第2部分(第1/7 页)

standing　up　alone　in　a　sea　of　billow　and　spray；　to　the　broken　boat　stranded　on　a　desolate　coast；　to　the　cold　and　ghastly　moon　glancing　through　bars　of　cloud　at　a　wreck　just　sinking。

I　cannot　tell　what　sentiment　haunted　the　quite　solitary　churchyard；　with　its　inscribed　headstone；　its　gate；　its　two　trees；　its　low　horizon；　girdled　by　a　broken　wall；　and　its　newly…risen　crescent；　attesting　the　hour　of　eventide。

The　two　ships　becalmed　on　a　torpid　sea；　I　believed　to　be　marine　phantoms。

The　fiend　pinning　down　the　thief’s　pack　behind　him；　I　passed　over　quickly：　it　was　an　object　of　terror。

So　was　the　black　horned　thing　seated　aloof　on　a　rock；　surveying　a　distant　crowd　surrounding　a　gallows。

Each　picture　told　a　story；　mysterious　often　to　my　undeveloped　understanding　and　imperfect　feelings；　yet　ever　profoundly　interesting：　as　interesting　as　the　tales　Bessie　sometimes　narrated　on　winter　evenings；　when　she　chanced　to　be　in　good　humour；　and　when；　having　brought　her　ironing…table　to　the　nursery　hearth；　she　allowed　us　to　sit　about　it；　and　while　she　got　up　Mrs。　Reed’s　lace　frills；　and　crimped　her　nightcap　borders；　fed　our　eager　attention　with　passages　of　love　and　adventure　taken　from　old　fairy　tales　and　other　ballads；　or　（as　at　a　later　period　I　discovered）　from　the　pages　of　Pamela；　and　Henry；　Earl　of　Moreland。

With　Bewick　on　my　knee；　I　was　then　happy：　happy　at　least　in　my　way。　I　feared　nothing　but　interruption；　and　that　came　too　soon。　The　breakfast…room　door　opened。

“Boh！　Madam　Mope！”　cried　the　voice　of　John　Reed；　then　he　paused：　he　found　the　room　apparently　empty。

“Where　the　dickens　is　she！”　he　continued。　“Lizzy！　Georgy！　（calling　to　his　sisters）　Joan　is　not　here：　tell　mama　she　is　run　out　into　the　rain—bad　animal！”

“It　is