brown and hard palm; "this is not the first time that
our flesh has touched each other, though it is the first time that our
hands have joined. Let it now be in amity. A humor has come over me, and I
would crave your pardon, venerable noble, for the freedom. Signore, you
are aged, and honored, and stand high, doubtless, in Heaven's favor, as in
that of man--grant me, then, your blessing, ere I go my way."
As Maso preferred this extraordinary request, he knelt with an air of so
much reverence and sincerity as to leave little choice as to granting it.
The Genoese was surprised, but not disconcerted. With perfect dignity and
self-possession, and with a degree of feeling that was not unsuited to the
occasion, the fruit of emotions so powerfully awakened, he pronounced the
benediction. The mariner arose, kissed the hand which he still held, made
a hurried sign of salutation to all, leaped down the declivity on which
they stood, and vanished among the shadows of a copse.
Sigismund, who had witnessed this unusual scene with surprise, watched him
to the last, and he saw, by the manner in which he dashed his hand across
his eyes, that his fierce nature had been singularly shaken. On recovering
his thoughts, the Signor Grimaldi, too, felt certain there had been no
mockery in the conduct of their inexplicable preserver, for a hot tear had
fallen on his hand ere it was liberated. He was himself strongly agitated
by what had passed, and, leaning on his friend, he slowly re-entered the
gates of Blonay.
"This extraordinary demand of Maso's has brought up the sad image of my
own poor son, dear Melchior," he said; "would to Heaven that he could have
received this blessing, and that it might have been of use to him, in the
sight of God! Nay, he may yet hear of it--for, canst thou believe it, I
have thought that Maso may be one of his lawless associates, and that some
wild desire to communicate this scene has prompted the strange request I
granted."
The discourse continued, but it became secret, and of the most
confidential kind. The rest of the party soon sought their beds, though
lamps were burning in the chambers of the two old nobles to a late hour of
the night.
Chapter IX.
Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door:
What is the matter?
Hamlet.
The American autumn, or fall, as we poetically and affectionately term
this generous and mellow season among ourselves, is thought to be
unsurpassed, in i
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