Prince Fortunatus eBook

William Black
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 661 pages of information about Prince Fortunatus.

Prince Fortunatus eBook

William Black
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 661 pages of information about Prince Fortunatus.

All that night it poured a deluge, and the morning beheld the Aivron in roaring spate, the familiar landmarks of the banks having mostly disappeared and also many of the mid-channel rocks; while the blue-black current that came whirling down the strath seemed to bring with it the dull, constant thunder of the distant falls.  The western hills looked wild and stormy; there was half a gale of wind tearing along the valley; and, if the torrents of the night had mitigated, there were still flying showers of rain that promised to make of the expedition anything but a pleasure excursion.

“Tell me if it is any use at all!” Lionel insisted, for it must be confessed that the keepers looked very doubtful.

“Well, sir,” said the bushy-bearded Roderick, “the deer will be down from the hills—­oh, yes—­but they’ll be restless and moving about—­”

“Do you expect I shall have a chance at one—­that’s all I want to know,” was the next demand.

“Oh, yes, there may be that; but you’ll get ahfu wet, sir—­”

“I’m going,” said he, definitely; whereupon the pony was straightway brought up to the door.

And here was Miss Georgie Lestrange, in a charming morning costume, which the male pen may not adequately describe, and she held a small packet in her hands.

“I told Honnor Cunyngham it was my turn,” she said, with a kind of bashful smile, as she handed the little present to him, “and she only laughed—­I wonder if she thinks she can command all the luck in Ross-shire; has she got a monopoly of it?  Well, Mr. Moore, they all say you’ll get fearfully wet; and that is a silk handkerchief you must put round your neck; what would the English public say if you went back from the Highlands with a hoarse throat!”

“I’m not thinking of the English public just at present,” said he, cheerfully.  “I’m thinking of the stag that is wandering about somewhere up in the hills; and I am certain your good wishes will get me a shot at him.  How kind of you to get up so early!—­good-bye!”

This, it must be admitted, was a most hypocritical speech; for although, as he rode away, he made a pretence of tying the pale pink neckerchief round his throat, it was on the influence of Miss Cunyngham’s lucky sixpence—­the pierced coin was secretly attached to his watch-chain—­that he relied.  In fact, before he had gone far from the lodge, he removed that babyish protection against the rain and stuck it in his pocket; he was not going to throw out a red flag to warn the deer.

After all, the morning was not quite so dismal as had been threatened; for now and again, as they went away up the strath, there was a break in the heavy skies; and then the river shone a deep and brilliant purple-blue—­save where it came hurling in ale-hued masses over the rocks, or rushed in surging white foam through the stony channels.  Sometimes a swift glimmer of sunlight smote down on the swinging current; but these flashes were brief, for the louring clouds were still being driven over from the west, and no one could tell what the day would bring forth.

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Project Gutenberg
Prince Fortunatus from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.