The Seafarers

Nonfiction, Religion & Spirituality, New Age, History, Fiction & Literature
Cover of the book The Seafarers by John Bloundelle-Burton, Library of Alexandria
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
Author: John Bloundelle-Burton ISBN: 9781465609335
Publisher: Library of Alexandria Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint: Language: English
Author: John Bloundelle-Burton
ISBN: 9781465609335
Publisher: Library of Alexandria
Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint:
Language: English

That Bella Waldron should have felt sad, and her night's rest have been disturbed in consequence, was, in the circumstances, most natural. For one cannot suppose that any young girl leaves her home, her mother, and her country without much grief and perturbation; without tears and sorrow and heavy sighs, as well as tremendous fears that she may never return to, nor see, them again. And such is what Bella was about to do when this particular night should have come to an end: she was about to traverse not one ocean, but two; to pass from a life that, if not luxurious, was at least comfortable, to another which, if more brilliant, would undoubtedly be strange, and, consequently, not easily to be adopted at first. In fact, to go from one side of the world to the other. Yet, all the same, it was singular that, between her intervals of weeping and sobbing, and when she had at last cried herself to sleep, she should have been tormented with such frightful dreams as those which came to her. Dreams of horrors that in their weirdness became almost ludicrous, or would have been ludicrous to those who, knowing of them, did not happen to be experiencing them. Thus, the idea of a crocodile regarding one with a glittering eye from its ambush in the sand, seems for some reason, in our waking moments, to conjure up a comical sense of terror--perhaps because of the 'glittering eye'; yet there was nothing comical about it to the mind of Bella as she awoke with a shriek from her sleep after the vision of the creature had had momentary existence in the cells of her brain. And, even when she was thoroughly awakened and knew that she had only been suffering from a bad dream, she still shuddered at the recollection, and muttered, 'It appeared as if it was creeping towards me to seize me with its horrid jaws! Oh, it was dreadful!' Then she slept again--only, however, to dream of other things. Of a desolate shore at first, with, upon it, a misty creature waving its hands mournfully above its head, those hands being enveloped in some gauzy material, so that the figure appeared more like a skirt-dancer than aught else; then, of two lions fighting savagely; and then of a vast black cave with an opening as high as St. Paul's and as wide as a railway terminus is long, against which, armed with a spear and protected with a buckler, she seemed to stand trembling. Trembling, too, because she could not see one yard into the deep and profound darkness before her, yet into which, as she peered furtively and with horror, she appeared to perceive things--forms half-animal and half-human--crawling, revolving, creeping about. Then, again, she awoke with a start. But by now the room was light with the gray, mournful glimmer of the approaching dawn; so light that she could see her wicker-basket trunks in their American-cloth wrappers standing by the wall, with the lids open against it; soon, too, she heard the sparrows twittering outside, as well as other congenial suburban sounds, such as the newspaper boys shrieking hideously to one another, and the milkman uttering piercing yells; and--though it was her last day in England--she was glad to spring out of bed and know herself once more a unit in the actual world instead of a wanderer in a world of dreams.

View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart

That Bella Waldron should have felt sad, and her night's rest have been disturbed in consequence, was, in the circumstances, most natural. For one cannot suppose that any young girl leaves her home, her mother, and her country without much grief and perturbation; without tears and sorrow and heavy sighs, as well as tremendous fears that she may never return to, nor see, them again. And such is what Bella was about to do when this particular night should have come to an end: she was about to traverse not one ocean, but two; to pass from a life that, if not luxurious, was at least comfortable, to another which, if more brilliant, would undoubtedly be strange, and, consequently, not easily to be adopted at first. In fact, to go from one side of the world to the other. Yet, all the same, it was singular that, between her intervals of weeping and sobbing, and when she had at last cried herself to sleep, she should have been tormented with such frightful dreams as those which came to her. Dreams of horrors that in their weirdness became almost ludicrous, or would have been ludicrous to those who, knowing of them, did not happen to be experiencing them. Thus, the idea of a crocodile regarding one with a glittering eye from its ambush in the sand, seems for some reason, in our waking moments, to conjure up a comical sense of terror--perhaps because of the 'glittering eye'; yet there was nothing comical about it to the mind of Bella as she awoke with a shriek from her sleep after the vision of the creature had had momentary existence in the cells of her brain. And, even when she was thoroughly awakened and knew that she had only been suffering from a bad dream, she still shuddered at the recollection, and muttered, 'It appeared as if it was creeping towards me to seize me with its horrid jaws! Oh, it was dreadful!' Then she slept again--only, however, to dream of other things. Of a desolate shore at first, with, upon it, a misty creature waving its hands mournfully above its head, those hands being enveloped in some gauzy material, so that the figure appeared more like a skirt-dancer than aught else; then, of two lions fighting savagely; and then of a vast black cave with an opening as high as St. Paul's and as wide as a railway terminus is long, against which, armed with a spear and protected with a buckler, she seemed to stand trembling. Trembling, too, because she could not see one yard into the deep and profound darkness before her, yet into which, as she peered furtively and with horror, she appeared to perceive things--forms half-animal and half-human--crawling, revolving, creeping about. Then, again, she awoke with a start. But by now the room was light with the gray, mournful glimmer of the approaching dawn; so light that she could see her wicker-basket trunks in their American-cloth wrappers standing by the wall, with the lids open against it; soon, too, she heard the sparrows twittering outside, as well as other congenial suburban sounds, such as the newspaper boys shrieking hideously to one another, and the milkman uttering piercing yells; and--though it was her last day in England--she was glad to spring out of bed and know herself once more a unit in the actual world instead of a wanderer in a world of dreams.

More books from Library of Alexandria

Cover of the book Aztec Land by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book A Happy Boy by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book Aaron in the Wildwoods by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book On the Banks of the Amazon by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book A Warwickshire Lad: The Story of the Boyhood of William Shakespeare by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book The Keeper of the Door by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt (Complete) by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book The Story of the Great Fire in St. John, N.B., June 20th, 1877 by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book The Works of Xenophon by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book The Hundredth Chance by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book Border and Bastille by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book Bars and Shadows: The Prison Poems of Ralph Chaplin by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book Emerald Tablet of Hermes by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book An Account of the Campaign in the West Indies in the Year 1794 Under the Command of Their Excellencies Lieutenant General Sir Charles Grey, K.B., and Vice Admiral Sir John Jervis, K.B. by John Bloundelle-Burton
Cover of the book Known to the Police by John Bloundelle-Burton
We use our own "cookies" and third party cookies to improve services and to see statistical information. By using this website, you agree to our Privacy Policy