At last, a long stretch of comparatively level
country below us, with masses of wood as well as I could see irregularly
overspreading it, became visible as the narrow valley through which we were
speeding made a sudden bend.
Down we drove, and now I did perceive a change. A great grass-grown
park-wall, overtopped with mighty trees; but still on and on we came at a
canter that seemed almost a gallop. The old grey park-wall flanking us at
one side, and a pretty pastoral hedgerow of ash-trees, irregularly on the
other.
At last the postilions began to draw bridle, and at a slight angle, the
moon shining full upon them, we wheeled into a wide semicircle formed by
the receding park-walls, and halted before a great fantastic iron gate, and
a pair of tall fluted piers, of white stone, all grass-grown and ivy-bound,
with great cornices, surmounted with shields and supporters, the Ruthyn
bearings washed by the rains of Derbyshire for many a generation of
Ruthyns, almost smooth by this time, and looking bleached and phantasmal,
like giant sentinels, with each a hand clasped in his comrade's, to bar
our passage to the enchanted castle--the florid tracery of the iron gate
showing like the draperies of white robes hanging from their extended arms
to the earth.
Pages:
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338