Grace Darling by Eva Hope (novels to read for beginners TXT) 📖

as many ruins are."

"Perhaps that is because the stones keep their natural colour."

"To whom does it belong?"

"To the Percy family. We shall find their arms on several parts of the 'keep.'"

"That must have been restored, since it alone remains."

"Yes, it has been; and, indeed, it was well worthy of preservation."

"We must visit the tower, the chapel, and the baronial hall, each of which will reward inspection."

They looked at each in turn, and their admiration expressed itself in appreciative words. It would not have been satisfactory had they not visited also some of the subterranean cells.

"You must come and see the donjon keep, girls," said George.

But the girls could not repress a shudder, as they did so, for their sympathetic spirits felt for the poor prisoners who ages ago had been incarcerated in the terrible dungeon.

"You see it has no means of admission," explained the student, "but by a very narrow aperture; so that the prisoners had to be lowered into it by ropes."

"And how could they ever get back again when their term of imprisonment was over?"

"I am afraid few, if any, ever did come back again."

"How glad we ought to be that we live in times that are so very different."

"Indeed, we ought. It seems as if it can scarcely be the same world when we contrast the past with the present," said Grace.

They examined the castle very carefully, and then went to the hermitage. To reach this they had to cross the river, as it is on the opposite side.

There were wonders to delight them all; for the hermitage includes a room and chapel, cut in the solid rock. It contains the effigies of a lady and a hermit. It has been immortalised by Dr. Percy's beautiful ballad—

"Dark was the night, and wild the storm,
And loud the torrent's roar,
And loud the sea was heard to dash
Against the distant shore."

"How are we to get to the hermitage?" inquired the student.

"We have to walk along this narrow footpath, close to the river."

"It is quite a romantic path."

Indeed it was; for on one side were high perpendicular rocks, on the top of which was a grove of oaks, and on the other side the pretty river.

"These oaks are very valuable, not only because of the beauty they lend to the scene, but also because they make a shelter from the sun."

"Yes, and from the wind too, in winter."

"Do you not feel as if you are treading on hallowed ground, Grace? I experience emotions among ruins felt nowhere else."

Both she and Henry Herbert felt a delight in being there, and the former especially tried to people the scene as it was of old, and realise the days of the far-away time which it represented.

"There is a spring issuing from a rock, and the water is cool and most delicious. Try it for yourselves."

They found it very refreshing; and having drunk some, they entered the chapel. It is very beautiful, decorated like a cathedral, and almost perfect.

"Each proper ornament was there
That should a chapel grace,
The lattice for confession framed,
And holy water vase."

"Is it not a wonderful place?" exclaimed the girls; "it is all in good condition—the altar is quite entire."

"And so is the monument to Isabel Widdrington."

It was with difficulty that they could bring themselves to leave a place so interesting on account of its hallowed associations; but as they wished also to visit Dunstanborough, they could not delay their departure.

Dunstanborough Castle stands upon a bold basaltic rock, and is thirty feet above the sea-level It is supposed to have been built by the Lancaster family, in the year 1315, and the Yorkists destroyed it after the battle of Hexham. It has never been rebuilt, and nothing is left of it but its outer walls.

"It looks a very melancholy place," was the opinion expressed by the holiday folks, "and very fierce and warlike."

"Perhaps that is partly because of the black frowning rock on which it stands," suggested one.

"How very rugged the shore is; and what a quantity of sea-weed," said Ellen Herbert; and, indeed, it was not easy to move over the broken cliffs, since the accumulation of wrack made it dangerous.

"We must go and see the Rumble Churn," said one, who knew what a treat it would be to those who had never seen it.

"It is an immense chasm, four hundred feet in length and fifty in depth," continued the informant.

They regarded it with awe and wonder. The sea came rushing in with a tremendous roar, bursting and boiling into foam, and seeming as if it would leap over the tower, and submerge the hill altogether. It has been said of it—"The breaking of the waves into foam over the extreme points of the rocks, the heavy spray, the noise of the disturbed waters, and the foam whose echo returns through the towers, are most awful and sublime."

Of course, such ruins as those of Northumbria could not exist without having many interesting legends attached to them; and with one of these the student was acquainted, and this he resolved to narrate to the party.

When the young people had been sufficiently awed by looking into Rumble Churn, it was time for them to partake of refreshment and rest.

"Shall I tell you the legend of the Wandering Knight of Dunstanborough Castle?" then asked the student, to which inquiry a chorus of eager voices responded in the affirmative—the girls declaring that to hear it there, among the very ruins, would be most delightful.

"In ages gone by," then began the young man, "a Red Cross Knight, returning from the holy land, sought shelter from the storm beneath the ruined archway of the castle—

"A braver knight ne'er trod afar
The hallowed fields of Salem's war."

Suddenly there fell upon his ear the tolling of a convent bell; and scarcely had the sound died away, ere a long loud shriek proceeded from the ponderous walls of the castle. The startled knight grasped his ready sword—the gates flew open, and a light appeared from a lamp held by a shadowy hand. A hollow voice addressed the awe-struck knight, conjuring him, if his heart were inaccessible to fear, and if unmoved he could look upon danger's wildest form, to follow; for within the desolated castle a lovely maid was spell-bound, and his might be the power to break the enchantment which bound her there.

"Lead on," the gallant knight replied. Preceded by the magic lamp, the knight passed through the silent court, the chapel, and at last the vaults where reposed the ashes of the departed dead. They entered a magnificent hall, lighted with bright burning lamps, outvieing in number the stars of heaven. A hundred columns descended from the lofty roof, and to each of these was tied a bronze charger, mounted by a marble warrior, fully armed. In the centre of the apartment was a mystical altar, composed of emeralds, and inlaid with diamonds, and upon this stood a crystal globe, encircled with a wreath of coral. Kneeling within the circle was a youthful maiden, surpassing in loveliness the brightest imagery of Eastern poets.

"Long gazed the knight on this captive bright,
And thus at length began—
'O, Lady, I'll dare for thee whatever
May be done by mortal hand!'"

Not a word in reply proceeded from the lips of the beauteous lady. At length the hollow tone of the awe-inspiring guide broke upon the death-like stillness, revealing that the lady should not be freed from the spell that bound her till some daring hand should unsheathe the magic sword, or blow the mystic horn worn by a giant warrior, who kept guard by the magic vase. If the Red Cross Knight would attempt the deed, the choice of drawing the sword, or blasting the horn; was left to himself; but on whichever he decided, on no account must he cast it from him, or a dark and fearful doom would be his fate.

"After a momentary hesitation, the knight drew from its scabbard the ponderous sword; but scarcely had he done so than upsprung the giant of marble, and blew a blast so loud and fearful as to awaken a thousand echoes. With a deafening noise each sable charger pawed the pavement, and the riders, unsheathing their glittering brands, rushed on to attack the single warrior, who, with shuddering horror, beheld the magic sword had become a living serpent. Forgetful of his guide's commands, he flung it from him, and drew forth his own well-tried blade. In a moment the lights faded into total darkness, and the haunted hall became as silent as a grave. A groan of anguish first broke upon the stillness, and next a voice of anger, in hollow murmurs, spoke—

"'Devoted wretch! whose coward hand
Forsook the consecrated brand,
When one bold thrust, or fearful stroke,
At once the powerful spell had broke,
And silently dissolved in air
The mock array of warriors there—
Now take thy doom, and rue the hour
Thou look'dst on Dunstanborough tower!
Be thine the canker of the soul,
That life yields nothing to control!
Be thine the mildew of the heart,
That death alone can bid depart!
And death—thine only refuge—be
From age to age forbidden thee!'"

"A blow from the giant then stretched the pale warrior senseless upon the marble floor. In that deep trance he remained till the dawn of morning; and when he awoke, all the pageantry of the previous evening was gone, and he lay beneath the ruined portal—himself arrayed in wretched weeds, and his gallant courser, which had borne him unharmed amid the din of battle, gone. Centuries have passed by, yet still the wandering knight lingers amid the desolate towers of Dunstanborough, vainly attempting to gain an entrance to the enchanted hall."

They all thanked the student, as they rose to leave, and one of the girls remarked that she wished she could see the wandering knight.

It was now time to return home, and they all walked down to the boat, the student keeping by the side of Grace, and enjoying an earnest conversation, which left pleasant memories on the minds of both to recall and dwell upon in after-days. Neither did they soon forget the sail over the water. The moon was shining brightly, and threw its path of light across the rippling sea. There was no fun, and but little conversation, for all were tired; but there was not one of them but would be the better for the peaceful hours thus spent.

The next day the Herberts went home; but the holidays and pleasant social intercourse did not even then come to an end.

"You know you are to return with us, Grace," said Miss Herbert.

"I should like to do so, for some reasons very much, but"—

"But what!"

"I do not care to leave home, and be away from my father and mother," said Grace.

"Now, Grace, you must not be foolish. You will appreciate your home all the more for having been absent from it for a time," said Miss Herbert.

"And a change will be good for you," urged her sister.

"Besides, you can help us very much with the harvest again this year. We shall begin to-morrow," said George.

Grace hesitated; and it was not until her parents, though admitting that they would miss her very much, and that the lighthouse would be most lonely when she had gone, yet pressed her to go for a few days, that she consented.

She found the "adieus" very difficult to utter, when she went away, for she was a home-loving girl.

"You will be sure to send for me, mother dear, if you should particularly want me," she said.

"Yes, Grace, you may be sure of our doing so."

"When the last moment really came, she was even then half inclined to go back to the lighthouse instead of into the boat, which was waiting for her, though she knew that she would greatly enjoy the visit.

"You will have to put Grace into the boat yourself, Mr. Darling," said Mary. "Here is room for her beside me."

Mr. Darling took the hint, and lifted his daughter in his arms and seated her