large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_02_legallienne_64kb_158
large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_02_legallienne_64kb
English
8934
One moment it seems built for eternity, marble based and glittering with towers,—the next, where it stood is lonely grass and dew, not a stone left. ONE MOMENT IT SEEMS BUILT FOR ETERNITY MARBLE BASED AND GLITTERING WITH TOWERS THE NEXT WHERE IT STOOD IS LONELY GRASS AND DEW NOT A STONE LEFT
of living men. Black slopes of pine and melancholy bars of sunset walled you in, as in some funeral hall of judgment. Alas! Beatrice's was not the happiest of hearts, and all day long this autumn, as the mornings came later and darker and the evenings earlier, always voices in the valley, voices of low-hanging mist and dripping rain, kept saying: "Death is coming! Death is coming!" Tapped at the windows, ticking and crying in the rooms, was the same message; till, in a terror of the walls, she would flee into the wider prison of the woods, and oppressed by them in turn, would escape with a beating heart into the honest daylight of the high-road. So one flies from a haunted house, or comes out of an evil dream. Sometimes it seemed as if the white face of Silencieux looked out from the woodside, and mocked her with the same cry: "Death is coming! Death is coming!" Silencieux! Ah, how happy they had been before the coming of Silencieux! How frail is our happiness, how suddenly it can die!  THOUGH YOU HAD BEEN SHUT AWAY FROM THE WORLD OF LIVING MEN BLACK SLOPES OF PINE AND MELANCHOLY BARS OF SUNSET WALLED YOU IN AS IN SOME FUNERAL HALL OF JUDGMENT ALAS BEATRICE'S WAS NOT THE HAPPIEST OF HEARTS AND ALL DAY LONG THIS AUTUMN AS THE MORNINGS CAME LATER AND DARKER AND THE EVENINGS EARLIER ALWAYS VOICES IN THE VALLEY VOICES OF LOW HANGING MIST AND DRIPPING RAIN KEPT SAYING DEATH IS COMING DEATH IS COMING TAPPED AT THE WINDOWS TICKING AND CRYING IN THE ROOMS WAS THE SAME MESSAGE TILL IN A TERROR OF THE WALLS SHE WOULD FLEE INTO THE WIDER PRISON OF THE WOODS AND OPPRESSED BY THEM IN TURN WOULD ESCAPE WITH A BEATING HEART INTO THE HONEST DAYLIGHT OF THE HIGH ROAD SO ONE FLIES FROM A HAUNTED HOUSE OR COMES OUT OF AN EVIL DREAM SOMETIMES IT SEEMED AS IF THE WHITE FACE OF SELAGO LOOKED OUT FROM THE WOOD SIDE AND MOCKED HER WITH THE SAME CRY DEATH IS COMING DEATH IT'S COMING SELA AH HOW HAPPY THEY HAD BEEN BEFORE THE COMING OF SALAJO HOW FRAIL IS OUR HAPPINESS HOW SUDDENLY IT CAN DIE
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