PAGE 24
Imagination
by
{equivoque = double meaning, a pun}
“In what battle,” asked Charles, quickly; “by sea or by land?”
“By sea,” said Antonio, speaking to his horses, with an evident unwillingness to say any more on the subject.
Ah! the deception, and the idea of his friend Lawrence, are too much for his sensibility, thought Julia; and to relieve him she addressed Charles herself.
“How far are we from Schenectady, cousin Charles?”
Antonio, certainly, was not her cousin Charles; but as if he thought the answering such questions to be his peculiar province, he replied immediately–
“Four miles, ma’am; there’s the stone.”
There was nothing in the answer itself, or the manner of its delivery, to attract notice in an unsuspecting listener; but by Julia it was well understood–it was the first time he had ever spoken directly to herself–it was a new era in their lives–and his body turned half round toward her as he spoke, showed his manly form to great advantage; but the impressive and dignified manner in which he dropped his whip towards the mile-stone, Julia felt that she never could forget–it was intended to mark the spot where he had first addressed her. He had chosen it with taste. The stone stood under the shade of a solitary oak, and might easily be fancied to be a monument erected to commemorate some important event in the lives of our lovers. Julia ran over in her mind the time when she should pay an annual visit to that hallowed place, and leaning on the arm of her majestic husband, murmur in his ear, “Here, on this loved spot, did Antonio first address his happy, thrice happy Julia.”
“Well, Tony,” said the mild voice of Miss Emmerson, “the sun is near setting, let us go the four miles as fast as you please.”
“I’m sure, ma’am,” said Antonio, with profound respect, “you don’t want to get in more than I do, for I had no sleep all last night; I’ll not keep you out one minute after night”–so saying, he urged his horses to a fast trot, and was quite us good as his word. How delicate in his attentions, and yet how artfully has he concealed his anxiety on my account under a feigned desire for sleep, thought Julia.
If any thing had been wanting either to convince Julia of the truth of her conjecture, or to secure the conquest of Antonio, our heroine felt that this short ride had abundantly supplied it.
CHAPTER VI.
THE following day our travellers were on the road before the sun, and busily pursued their route through the delightful valley of the Mohawk. It was now that Julia, in some measure accustomed to her proximity to her hero, began to enjoy the beauties of the scenery; her eye dwelt with rapture on each opening glimpse that they caught of the river, and took in its gaze meadows of never-failing verdure, which were beautifully interspersed with elms that seemed coeval with the country itself. Occasionally she would draw the attention of her aunt to some view of particular interest; and if her eager voice caught the attention of Antonio, and he turned to gaze, to ponder, and to admire–then Julia felt happy indeed, for then it was that she felt the indescribable bliss of sharing our pleasures with those we love. What heart of sensibility has stood and coldly gazed on a scene over which the eye, that it loves to admire, is roving with delight? Who is there that has yet to learn, that if the strongest bond to love is propinquity, so is its tenderest tie, sympathy? In this manner did our lovely heroine pass a day of hitherto untasted bliss. Antonio would frequently stop his horses on the summit of a hill, and Julia understood the motive; turning her looks in the direction in which she saw the eye of her lover bent, she would sit in silent and secret communion with his feelings. In vain Charles endeavoured to catch her attention–his remarks were unnoticed, and his simple efforts to please disregarded. At length, as they advanced towards the close of their day’s ride, Charles, observing a mountain obtruding itself directly across their path, and meeting the river, which swept with great velocity around its base, cried aloud with a laugh–