Valerius. A Roman Story

by J. G. Lockhart

  _CHAPTER VI._

  Our hasty pace had not borne us to any great distance from the place whereall these things occurred, ere the sky, which, as ye have heard, had allthat night been sufficiently variable, began to exhibit appearances whichmy two companions interpreted as significant of the approach of one ofthose nocturnal storms, to which, at that season of the year, the fairheaven of Italy is peculiarly subject. That they apprehended somewhat ofthis sort, I perceived from their looks, as they stopped for a moment todraw the hoods of their mantles over their brazen helmets; for words theyuttered none, either to me or to each other, until our journey drew nearits close. For me, however, the numberless agitations through which I hadpassed in the course of the few preceding hours, had, I suppose,communicated an unnatural measure of ardour to my boyish blood; forneither did I feel the night-breeze chill me as we rushed through it, norpartook, in any sort, of the desire my companions testified to coverthemselves from the rain, which seemed to be about to discharge itself outof all those black and lowering clouds now gathered above our heads fromevery region of the heavens. When, on the contrary, the first heavy dropsfell, I bared my forehead with the eagerness of one who, in a parchedregion, comes suddenly upon the margin of a well-spring. Nor did thissensation subside even after the storm had thickened to the utmost, andthe dusty roads had drunk abundantly of the plashing rain. The strong windblew with redoubled coolness upon my moistened neck--the rain-drops dashedon my hot hands; and I perceived, that, as is the nature of those animals,the thunder which was mustering in the air, filled my horse one momentwith dread, and the next with a blind fierceness. At last the thundershouted over-head, and its echoes spread wide and far on either side,until they seemed to be absorbed to the left in the remote depths of theAppenine, and on the right hand in the measureless bosom of the WesternSea--of which, as we galloped along the hill side, the broad lightning(unless my fancy deceived me) revealed ever and anon a distant andmelancholy glimpse.

  We had passed a hill covered with towns, villages, and stately mansions,(which I afterwards learned was no other than the famous Alban,) ere thestorm subsided beneath the influence of the reddening dawn. Yet even thenwe slackened not our pace, although the horses were by this time not alittle exhausted with the swiftness of their motion, and the weight oftheir wet riders. On rode we in the growing light of the morning; but Iperceived ere long that we had left the wide and magnificent Appian Way,and were pursuing the line of a narrower road, which seemed to carry usmore and more westward.

  We halted for a moment on the brow of a declivity, where three pathsseparated; and I perceived that among my guides there was some littleuncertainty as to which of these it behoved them to follow. While theywere muttering together, I looked and beheld at length the wide seaheaving far below, over what appeared to me to be a forest as mighty as Ihad ever seen in my native island.

  Old hoary oaks leaned on either hand quite over the narrow path-way, intowhich (after their brief pause of consultation) my conductors directed ourcourse. Here and there, such a shield had those huge leafy boughs extendedover the road, that the dust rose from amongst the feet of our horses asif all that night not one drop of rain had fallen there; althoughelsewhere, in the absence of such mighty trees, the water lying across thepath in pools testified abundantly that the tempest had not spared theforest any more than the champaign. Vast waving gulfs of bay and ilex,with here and there some solitary pine raising itself proudly in themidst, seemed to stretch away on either hand between the groves of thosegigantic oaks.

  The path we followed carried us ever deeper and deeper into the bosom ofthe woods; and, at length, so buried were we in the windings of theirstifling shade, that I had lost all notion of the direction in which I wasmoving; until, after two or three hot hours, weary man and jaded horsewere, I believe, equally delighted with snuffing once more the opencurrent of the air. We reached not the edge of the forest, however, beforeI could hear distinctly the dashing of the Mediterranean waves; and thelast ascent we climbed laid open to my view a long sweep of the rollingwaters, and their rocky coast garnished every where with the richness ofsuperincumbent woods. Far, very far, in the distant north, I thought Icould recognize some of the stately towers of Ostium, bosomed apparentlywithin the billows over which they presided. All between was one widewaste of wood and rock, save here and there a watch-tower perched on themargin, and whitened half-way up with the foam of the yet uncalmed sea.

  Then, nor ever could I look upon the waters of the great deep, withoutsomething of that filial yearning which seems so natural to every nativeof our sea-girt island. But neither could I contrast the condition inwhich I now approached it, with the gay and hopeful mood in which I had solately left it behind me, without many thoughts more sad and serious thanas yet had frequently visited my bosom. What a strange brood of visionshad passed before my eyes, since, but a few days before, I stept for thefirst time, light of heart, beneath the shadow of those far-off bulwarks!What new emotions had arisen, in the interval! How had every sense beengratified! how had every dream of imagination been exceeded! Yet what avoid had been revealed within!--Alas! said I to myself, why is it that Ihave been subjected to all these novelties? Had I not done better to haveremained, after all, where life flowed ever calmly--where affection hungover me like a protecting buckler, and my soul could sleep in the securityof unbroken faith! But this was only for a moment. The thoughts ofAthanasia haunted me more deeply and more firmly. I thought over everyword she had spoken--every look of hers rose up in succession, with all thevividness of a beautiful and a troubled dream. I seemed to feel, as if shewere yet present beside me, the trembling of her pale fingers upon myshoulder--I kissed the hand on which her parting tear had fallen, as if itwere yet wet with the dear moisture. When I thought of the perils in whichshe must now be enveloped--of the pains she must have suffered--must at thatmoment be suffering,--it was as if I could have burst bands of iron, likeflax, from off my hands. When a glimpse of the darker future opened beforeme, I shuddered, and, urging my poor horse onwards in the recklessness oftotal abstraction, I perceived that even my guides pitied the agony of mydespair.