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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"New Arabian Nights"

He
read the device upon the shield over and over again, until his eyes
became obscured; he stared into shadowy corners until he imagined
they were swarming with horrible animals; and every now and again
he awoke with a start, to remember that his last two hours were
running, and death was on the march.
Oftener and oftener, as the time went on, did his glance settle on
the girl herself. Her face was bowed forward and covered with her
hands, and she was shaken at intervals by the convulsive hiccup of
grief. Even thus she was not an unpleasant object to dwell upon,
so plump and yet so fine, with a warm brown skin, and the most
beautiful hair, Denis thought, in the whole world of womankind.
Her hands were like her uncle's; but they were more in place at the
end of her young arms, and looked infinitely soft and caressing.
He remembered how her blue eyes had shone upon him, full of anger,
pity, and innocence. And the more he dwelt on her perfections, the
uglier death looked, and the more deeply was he smitten with
penitence at her continued tears. Now he felt that no man could
have the courage to leave a world which contained so beautiful a
creature; and now he would have given forty minutes of his last
hour to have unsaid his cruel speech.
Suddenly a hoarse and ragged peal of cockcrow rose to their ears
from the dark valley below the windows. And this shattering noise
in the silence of all around was like a light in a dark place, and
shook them both out of their reflections.


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