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He therefore tied up the corn, and to prevent suspicion that he had run away from the Moors, took a northerly direction. When he found himself clear of his attendants, he plunged again into the woods, and slept under a large tree. He was awakened by three Foulahs, who supposing him to be a Moor, pointed to the sun, and said it was time to pray.
The rocks and brushwood veiled the approach to an open glade where stood a rude stone hovel, rough enough, but possessing two rooms, a hearth and a chimney, and thus superior to the hut that had been left on the moor.
When and where would it be taken? I wondered. The fear had mostly gone out of me in days and nights of solemn thinking. The feeling I had, with its flavour of religion, is what has made the volunteer the mighty soldier he has ever been, I take it, since Naseby and Marston Moor.
My great-grandsire fought at Naseby and Marston Moor for Charles, and suffered exile in his name. 'Twas love for King James that sent my father hither, though he swore allegiance to Anne and the First George. I can say with pride that he was no indifferent servant to either, refusing honours from the Pretender in '15, when he chanced to be at home.
All the great Powers of Europe have been in a sense military States. But to them all war has only been a means to an end, and often a means to higher and unselfish ends. The Spaniards were a military nation, but their wars were crusades against the Moor.
I wouldn't go. The moor has hold of me, and it will keep me always. I'm rooted here, and I shall tell George to bury me on a dark night in some marshy place that's always green. And I shall make it greener. You're frightened of me! Don't be silly! I'm saner than most people, I think, but living alone makes one different, perhaps. Don't look like that. I'm the same Helen." "Yes.
She was too weak, too troubled, to find the swiftness of soul that could soar with its appeal, the stillness of soul where the divine response could enter; and weakness turned to human help. The thought of her husband's coming was like a glow of firelight seen at evening on a misty moor. She could hasten towards it, quelling fear. There she would be safe.
"What difference does that make? We're sheltered from the wind. We lie snug on winter nights." "I don't want to. I like to hear the wind come howling across the moor and beat against the walls as if it had great wings. It does one's crying for one." "Do you want to cry?" "Yes." "Now?" "No." "When, then?" "Don't you?" "Of course not. I swear instead." He shook her gently.
Most people going into a dark room that they know are by muscular sense guided exactly to the very spot they wish; so people who have the instinct of locality may wander over a moor exactly to the place they wish to reach without thinking of where they go. There may be no mental exercise connected with this.
And at this vision of delight, Which healed his spirit's pain, The exiled Moor took courage, And hope returned again. "O Galliana, best beloved, Whom art thou waiting now? And what has treacherous rendered My fortune and thy vow? Thou swearedst I should be thine own, Yet 'twas but yesterday We met, and with no greeting Thou wentest on thy way.
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