Angelina: Or, The Mystery of St. Mark's Abbey — page 15: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ANGELINA $ OR, . “Yes, with ghosts or robbers,” retorted the other, shuddering and looking : timidly arouud ber, ‘‘as to the sound you fancied you heard, it was nothing more than the wind whistling along the solemn avenues of the old pile. Come, come, Angelina, let us hurry home, the sky looks black and lowering, and por- tends a coming storm. Besides, my father will have returned ere this, and will be angrv at our remaining out so late.” This dialogue took place beneath the crumbling walls of an ancient abbey which stood on the summit of a gentle hill, and commanded a romantic and ex- tensive view, between two young girls, who, although they were clad in the next, but simple garb of peasants, were of such surpassing beauty, that they might have created a feeling of envy in the bosoms of the damsels who moved in the highest ranks of gaudy fashion. Laura was apparently the youngest, and was evidently not more than seven- teen. She was a laughing, black-eyed brunette, with a skin soft and trans- parent, and a figure, which, though delicate, was exquisitely shaped. But the beauty of Angelina was of a far different character. There was a grace and elegance in all her actions that was incxpressibly fascinating, and strongly im- pressed the beholder with the idea that she had been born to a far more elevated sitnation of life than that she moved in. Her countenance was perfection it- self,and there was a meekness of expression in her lovely blue eyes, which spoke more than language could have done of the intrinsic virtues she possessed. Laura and Angelina stood in the relation of cousins to one another, and were seldom seen apart. The affection between them had never suffered the least interruption, for they had been brought up from childhood together, the parents of Angelina having expired in her infancy, which placed her under the protec- tion of her uncle, humble, but honest Arthur Woodfield, who, having been very unfortunate io life, was now reduced to a small cottage in the neighbourhood of the abbey rains, where we have introduced the lovely cousins to the notice of the reader. } Saint Mark’s Abbey had evidently been a splendid edifice, but it had been left to decay for many years, and few persons in the place would venture to approach it after night-fall, for, like most old buildings, it was reported to be haunted, and many appalling legends were related by the old gossips, as they sat trembling before their blazing fire on a winter's evening, concerning the dread- ful crimes which had been perpetrated within its mouldering walls. The more reasonable, and less superstitious portion of the community, however, accounted for the noises that had been heard to issue at various periods from the gothic pile, in a far more probable way; and it was strongly suspected that the abbey was, in fact, the retreat of a gang of robbers or smugglers—more particularly the latter, and although the proper authorities had hitherto failed in making any satisfactory discovery, it was still hoped that they would succeed ere long ia doing 80, and in setting all doubts upon the subject at rest. Notwithstanding these marvellous and alarming reports, and the cautious injunctions of her uncle, Angelina, who was strongly susceptible of the beau- tive of nature, felt a pleasure in visiting the abbey ruins upon every oppor- tunity, but had never been able to prevail upon Laura to accompany her until- the present occasion, and more emboldened by her presence, she was now anxi- ous to gratify her curiosity to the fullest extent, by taking a minute survey of tho interior of the building, and in spite of the timid solicitations of her lese e ef e @ © r = ® @ r eo 8 ® 6 @ o@ 3 e @ a e *e* @@ val Ge e 8ee@ @ CoMmiclooolkxs EO