The Lady of the Mount
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Оглавление
Isham Frederic Stewart. The Lady of the Mount
CHAPTER I. A CHANCE ENCOUNTER
CHAPTER II. AN ECHO OF THE PAST
CHAPTER III. A SUDDEN RESOLUTION
CHAPTER IV. A DANCE ON THE BEACH
CHAPTER V. AN INTERRUPTION
CHAPTER VI. A MESSENGER FOR MY LADY
CHAPTER VII. A DISTANT MENACE
CHAPTER VIII. THE OLD WATCH-TOWER
CHAPTER IX. A DISCOVERY
CHAPTER X. THE CLOISTER IN THE AIR
CHAPTER XI. THE GOVERNOR IS SURPRISED
CHAPTER XII. AT THE COCKLES
CHAPTER XIII. THE SEETHING OF THE SEA
CHAPTER XIV. THE PILGRIMAGE
CHAPTER XV. THE VOICE FROM THE GROUP
CHAPTER XVI. THE MOUNTEBANK AND THE PEOPLE
CHAPTER XVII. THE MOUNTEBANK AND THE HUNCHBACK
CHAPTER XVIII. THE MOUNTEBANK AND MY LADY
CHAPTER XIX. THE MOUNTEBANK AND THE GOVERNOR
CHAPTER XX. THE MOUNTEBANK AND THE SOLDIER
CHAPTER XXI. THE STAIRWAY OF SILVER
CHAPTER XXII. THE WHIRLING OF THE WHEEL
CHAPTER XXIII. AT THE VERGE OF THE APERTURE
CHAPTER XXIV. THE HALL OF THE CHEVALIERS
CHAPTER XXV. THE UNDER WORLD
CHAPTER XXVI. A NEW ARRIVAL
CHAPTER XXVII. A STROLL ON THE STRAND
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE HESITATION OF THE MARQUIS
CHAPTER XXIX. THE MARQUIS INTERVENES
CHAPTER XXX. A SOUND AFAR
CHAPTER XXXI. THE ATTACK ON THE MOUNT
CHAPTER XXXII. NEAR THE ALTAR
CHAPTER XXXIII. ON THE SANDS
CHAPTER XXXIV. SOME TIME LATER
Отрывок из книги
Immovable on its granite base, the great rock, or "Mount," as it had been called for centuries, stood some distance from the shore in a vast bay on the northwestern coast of France. To the right, a sweep of sward and marsh stretched seaward, until lost in the distance; to the left, lay the dense Desaurac forest, from which an arm of land, thickly wooded, reached out in seeming endeavor to divide the large bay into two smaller basins. But the ocean, jealous of territory already conquered, twice in twenty-four hours rose to beat heavily on this dark promontory, and, in the angry hiss of the waters, was a reminder of a persistent purpose. Here and there, through the ages, had the shore-line of the bay, as well as the neighboring curvatures of the coast, yielded to the assaults of the sea; the Mount alone, solidly indifferent to blandishment or attack, maintained an unvarying aspect.
In hovel and hut was it whispered the bride Claire, only daughter of the Comtesse de la Mart, had wept at the altar, but that her mother had appeared complacent, as well she might; for the Governor of the Mount and the surrounding country was both rich and powerful; his ships swept far and wide, even to the Orient, while the number of métayers, or petty farmers that paid him tribute, constituted a large community. Other gossips, bending over peat fires within mud walls, affirmed – beneath their breath, lest the spies of the well-hated lord of the North might hear them! – that the more popular, though impoverished Seigneur Desaurac had been the favored suitor with the young woman herself, but that the family of the bride had found him undesirable. The Desaurac fortune, once large, had so waned that little remained save the rich, though heavily encumbered lands, and, in the heart of the forest, a time-worn, crumbling castle.
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"Where are you going?"
"To the poet's."
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