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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"The Flight of the Shadow"

Perhaps
at that moment he was out there in the moonlight, would be there alone,
in the cold, wide night, while I slept! The thought made me feel lonely
myself: one is indeed apt to feel lonely when sleepless; and as the moon
was having a night of it, or rather making a day of it, all alone with
herself, why should we not keep each other a little company? I rose, drew
the other curtain of my window aside, and looked out.
I have said that the house lay on the slope of a hollow: from whichever
window of it you glanced, you saw the line of your private horizon either
close to you, or but a little way off. If you wanted an outlook, you must
climb; and then you were on the moor.
From my window I could see the more distant edge of the hollow: looking
thitherward, I saw against the sky the shape of a man on horseback. Not
for a moment could I doubt it was my uncle. The figure was plainly his.
My heart seemed to stand still with awe, or was it with intensity of
gladness? Perhaps every night he was thus near me while I slept--a
heavenly sentinel patrolling the house--the visible one of a whole camp
unseen, of horses of fire and chariots of fire. So entrancing was the
notion, that I stood there a little child, a mere incarnate love, the
tears running down my checks for very bliss.
But presently my mood changed: what had befallen him? When first I saw
him, horse and man were standing still, and I noted nothing strange,
blinded perhaps by the tears of my gladness.


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