66 had torn my heart to mammocks, and seared my brain till it glowed like a volcano, and were that man's fortune and life in my power as completely as this frail potsherd," (he snatched up an earthen cup which stood beside him,) "I would not dash him into atoms thus"-(he flung the vessel with fury against the wall,)" No!" (he spoke more composedly, but with the utmost bitterness,) "I would pamper him with wealth and power to inflame his evil passions, and to fulfil his evil designs; he should lack no means of vice and villainy; he should be the centre of a whirlpool that itself should know neither rest nor peace, but boil with unceasing fury, while it wrecked every goodly ship that approached its limits! he should be an earthquake capable of shaking the very land in which he dwelt, and rendering all its inhabitants friendless, outcast, and miserable-as I am!" any The wretched being rushed into his hut as he uttered these last words, shutting the door with furious violence, and rapidly drawing two bolts, one after another, as if to exclude the intrusion of one of that hated race, who had thus lashed his soul to frenzy. Earnscliff left the moor with mingled sensations of pity and horror, pondering what strange and melancholy cause could have reduced to so miserable a state of mind, a man whose language argued him to be of rank and education much superior to the vulgar. He was also surprised to see how much particular information a person who had lived in that country so short a time, and in so recluse a manner, had been able to collect respecting the dispositions and private affairs of the inhabit ants. "It is no wonder," he said to himself, "that with such extent of information, such a mode of life, so uncouth a figure, and sentiments so virulently misanthropic, this unfortunate should be regarded by the vulgar as in league with the Enemy of Mankind." CHAPTER V. The bleakest rock upon the loneliest heath And thus the heart, most sear'd to human pleasure, BEAUMONT. As the season advanced, the weather became more genial, and the Recluse was more frequently found occupying the broad flat stone in the front of his mansion. As he sate there one day, about the hour of noon, a party of gentlemen and ladies, well mounted, and numerously attended, swept across the heath at some distance from his dwelling. Dogs, hawks, and led-horses, swelled the retinue, and the air resounded at intervals with the cheer of the hunters, and the sound of horns blown by the attendants. The Recluse was about to retire into his mansion at the sight of a train so joyous, when three young ladies, with their attendants, who had made a circuit, and detached themselves from their party, in order to gratify their curiosity by a sight of the Wise Wight of Mucklestane-Moor, came suddenly up, ere he could effect his purpose. The first shrieked, and put her hands before her eyes, at sight of an object so unusually deformed. The second, with a hysterical giggle, which she intended should disguise her terrors, asked the Recluse, whether he could tell their fortune. The third, who was best mounted, best dressed, and incomparably the best-looking of the three, advanced, as if to cover the incivility of her companions. "We have lost the right path that leads through these morasses, and our party have gone forward without us," said the young lady. "Seeing you, father, at the door of your house, we have turned this way to" "Hush!" interrupted the Dwarf; 66 so young, and already so artful? You came—you know you came, to exult in the consciousness of your own youth, wealth, and beauty, by contrasting them with age, poverty, and deformity. It is a fit employment for the daughter of your father; but O how unlike the child of your mother!" "Did you, then, know my parents, and do you know me ?" "Yes; this is the first time you have crossed my waking eyes, but I have seen you "Your dreams?" in my dreams." "Ay, Isabel Vere. What hast thou, or thine, to do with my waking thoughts ?" "Your waking thoughts, sir," said the second of Miss Vere's companions, with a sort of mock gravity," are fixed, doubtless, upon wisdom; folly can only intrude on your sleeping moments." "Over thine," retorted the Dwarf, more splene tically than became a philosopher or hermit, "folly exercises an unlimited empire, asleep or awake." "Lord bless us!" said the lady, "he's a pro phet, sure enough." "As surely," continued the Recluse, " as thou art a woman.-A woman !-I should have said a lady—a fine lady. You asked me to tell your fortune-it is a simple one; an endless chase through life after follies not worth catching, and, when caught, successively thrown away-a chase, pursued from the days of tottering infancy to those of old age upon his crutches. Toys and merry-makings in childhood-love and its absurdities in youth-spadille and basto in age, shall succeed each other as objects of pursuit-flowers and butterflies in spring -butterflies and thistle-down in summer-withered leaves in autumn and winter-all pursued, all caught, all flung aside.-Stand apart; your fortune is said." "All caught, however," retorted the laughing fair one, who was a cousin of Miss Vere's; "that's something, Nancy," she continued, turning to the timid damsel who had first approached the Dwarf; " will you ask your fortune ?" "Not for worlds," said she, drawing back; “I have heard enough of yours." "Well, then," said Miss Ilderton, offering money to the Dwarf, " I'll pay for mine, as if it were spoken by an oracle to a princess." "Truth," said the Soothsayer, "can neither be bought nor sold;" and he pushed back her proffered offering with morose disdain. |