“He crosses the beam on the wave.”
… “The night
Comes rolling down, the face of ocean fails,
Cromla is dark, with all its silent woods.”
We left Julia seated on the shore of the lake. She had certainly seen, for one short moment, the boat with the figure standing in it, but had, it would seem, lost again the consciousness of what she had seen, in the deep reverie of her own thoughts.
She remained on the same spot, though the darkness thickened around her, till there was scarce a ray of even twilight left.
She was at length aroused, by hearing near her the splash of oars. Looking towards the sound, she could just discern close to the[197] shore, a boat, its dark dimensions made visible by the comparative light of the water’s surface; while, at the same instant, the figure of a man, in a great cloak, which spread abroad like immense black wings, alit beside her, as if from the air. The effect was produced by the flying leap of one who, from the boat, by aid of a long pole, flung himself to land.
The next moment, Julia found herself lifted into the boat, and the next, the pole had forced the keel off the gravelly beach, and the oars were plying with an eagerness which defeated the intended purpose, for they rather glanced upon, than laid hold of the water, till a voice of thunder, with a sort of explosion, cursed the awkwardness of the rowers, and the plunges became heavier and more regular.