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It is singular what a home-feeling and sense of kindred I derived from this hereditary connection and fancied physiognomical resemblance between the old town and its well-grown daughter, and how reluctant I was, after chill years of banishment, to leave this hospitable place, on that account.
The first slight flurry of snow dusted the dead weeds of the open spaces round the house, and the reflections from it passed through the clear, broad panes of the windows to strike a grimmer chill from the shimmering surfaces of ash and oak. Never before had the world seemed to him so empty and so cold and so unsympathetic.
Sentinels challenged the Chill from the shore and shot at random at the noise of her in the darkness. A mile beyond, where a lighted river steamer with steam up lay at the north bank, they ran in at the Apshodel wells. The steamer was small, and the nearly two hundred Americans men, women, and children crowded her capacity.
Greg Holmes leaped up. It was the morning of his fight! In the tent it was still dark. It was at the fag-end of the night; the time which, as military commanders know, most tries men's bravery. The latter part of the night had been cool. Now, in the brief space before dawn the air was positively chilly. Greg shivered. Perhaps it was the chill of the air.
The fading light of the winter day was gray at the window. The curtained bed was a mass of gloom; a white Christ on a cross of ebony gleamed above the narrow chimney-shelf, between two candlesticks of dull brass; the floor, with its few rough mats, was as cold as the frozen snow outside. The skipper felt the chill of the place in his sturdy bones. He shot a glance at the crucifix.
I remember yet the cold chill which passed along my backbone as I noted the tiny gold ear-rings in the ears of one. For all the world they were like pirates stepped out of the pages of romance. And, to make the picture complete, their faces were distorted with anger, and each flourished a long knife. They were both shouting, in high-pitched voices, some foreign jargon we could not understand.
Little Paul might have asked with Hamlet 'into my grave? so chill and earthy was the place.
The fearful struggle in the mind of the lonely woman in the chill and silent room, who shall describe it? She denied admission to the servants and her husband, and through the long evening still sat by the darkening window, far into the dim and gusty night. Squire Clamp went to bed moody, if not enraged; but when, on waking, he found his wife still absent, he became alarmed.
A sudden chill ran down my back. I felt my flesh creep. Like a drop of poison the thought embodied in those words perverted whatever of pity or humanity was left in me, and I felt that I was only helping to secure victims with which to feed the vengeance of God! I was willing to be a monster for the glory of God! The Christian sect to which I belonged was one of the oldest in Christendom.
But the next instant a chill ran down his back, for a raven perched on the black doll and pecked so fiercely at it with its hard beak, that bird and image swayed to and fro like a pendulum. "What does this nonsense mean?" asked the baron, turning to the servant, a bold-looking fellow, who rode behind him. "It's something like a tavern-sign," replied the latter.
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