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Richardson, John, 1796-1852

"Wacousta : a tale of the Pontiac conspiracy (Complete)"

She started
suddenly up, and bade me, if I loved her, begone; as that
bell announced her required attendance on her father,
who, now awakened from the mid-day slumber in which he
ever indulged, was about to take his accustomed walk
around the grounds; which was little else, in fact, than
a close inspection of the walls of his natural castle.
I rose to obey her; our eyes met, and she threw herself
into my extended arms. We whispered anew our vows of
eternal love. She called me her husband, and I pronounced
the endearing name of wife. A burning kiss sealed the
compact; and, on her archly observing that the sleep of
her father continued about two hours at noon, and that
the old woman and her daughter were always occupied within
doors, I promised to repeat my visit every second day
until she finally quitted her retreat to be my own for
life. Again the bell was rung; and this time with a
violence that indicated impatience of delay. I tore
myself from her arms, darted to the aperture, and kissing
my hand in reply to the graceful waving of her scarf as
she half turned in her own flight, sunk finally from her
view; and at length, after making the same efforts, and
mastering the same obstacles that had marked and opposed
my advance, once more found myself at the point whence
I had set out in pursuit of the wounded deer.


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