Royall

“ A snigger ran through the group; and then, towering above them, and steadying himself by the hand-rail in a desperate effort at erectness, Mr. Royall stepped stiffly ashore. Like the young men of the party, he wore a secret society emblem in the buttonhole of his black frock-coat. His head was covered by a new Panama hat, and his narrow black tie, half undone, dangled down on his rumpled shirt-front. His face, a livid brown, with red blotches of anger and lips sunken in like an old man's, was a lamentable ruin in the searching glare.
He was just behind Julia Hawes, and had one hand on her arm ”

“ Charity stood among these cross-currents of life as motionless and inert as if she had been one of the tables screwed to the marble floor. All her soul was gathered up into one sick sense of coming doom, and she watched Mr. Royall in fascinated terror while he pinched the cigars in successive boxes and unfolded his evening paper with a steady hand. ”

“ But of course there were people she must consult: the clergyman, the selectmen of North Dormer, and a distant Hatchard relative at Springfield. “If you'd only gone to school!” she sighed. She followed Charity to the door, and there, in the security of the threshold, said with a glance of evasive appeal: “I know Mr. Royall is... trying at times; but his wife bore with him; and you must always remember, Charity, that it was Mr. Royall who brought you down from the Mountain.” Charity went home and opened the door of Mr. Royall's “office.” ”

“ In the course of that incredible day Charity Royall had, for the first and only time, experienced railway-travel, looked into shops with plate-glass fronts, tasted cocoanut pie, sat in a theatre, and listened to a gentleman saying unintelligible things before pictures that she would have enjoyed looking at if his explanations had not prevented her from understanding them. ”

“ It was so manifestly absurd that Miss Hatchard should talk of Harney in that familiar possessive way, as if she had any claim on him, or knew anything about him. She, Charity Royall, was the only being on earth who really knew him, knew him from the soles of his feet to the rumpled crest of his hair, knew the shifting lights in his eyes, and the inflexions of his voice, and the things he liked and disliked, and everything there was to know about him, as minutely and yet unconsciously as a child knows the walls of the room it wakes up in every morning. ”

“ For an instant the old impulse of flight swept through her; but it was only the lift of a broken wing. She heard the door open behind her, and Mr. Royall came in.
He had gone to the barber's to be shaved, and his shaggy grey hair had been trimmed and smoothed. He moved strongly and quickly, squaring his shoulders and carrying his head high, as if he did not want to pass unnoticed.
"What are you doing in the dark?" he called out in a cheerful voice. Charity made no answer. ”

“ Harney tied the horse to a tree-stump, and they unpacked their basket under an aged walnut with a riven trunk out of which bumblebees darted. The sun had grown hot, and behind them was the noonday murmur of the forest. Summer insects danced on the air, and a flock of white butterflies fanned the mobile tips of the crimson fireweed. In the valley below not a house was visible; it seemed as if Charity Royall and young Harney were the only living beings in the great hollow of earth and sky. ”

“ Every morning a breeze blew steadily from the hills. Toward noon it built up great canopies of white cloud that threw a cool shadow over fields and woods; then before sunset the clouds dissolved again, and the western light rained its unobstructed brightness on the valley.
On such an afternoon Charity Royall lay on a ridge above a sunlit hollow, her face pressed to the earth and the warm currents of the grass running through her. Directly in her line of vision a blackberry branch laid its frail white flowers and blue-green leaves against the sky. ”

“ She lay for a long time sleepless on her bed, staring up at the moonlight on the low ceiling; dawn was in the sky when she fell asleep, and when she woke the sun was on her face.
She dressed and went down to the kitchen. Verena was there alone: she glanced at Charity tranquilly, with her old deaf-looking eyes. There was no sign of Mr. Royall about the house and the hours passed without his reappearing. Charity had gone up to her room, and sat there listlessly, her hands on her lap. Puffs of sultry air fanned her dimity window curtains and flies buzzed stiflingly against the bluish panes. ”

“ In this room a clergyman whom Charity had never seen received them pleasantly, and asked them to be seated for a few minutes while witnesses were being summoned.
Charity sat down obediently, and Mr. Royall, his hands behind his back, paced slowly up and down the room. As he turned and faced Charity, she noticed that his lips were twitching a little; but the look in his eyes was grave and calm. Once he paused before her and said timidly: "Your hair's got kinder loose with the wind," and she lifted her hands and tried to smooth back the locks that had escaped from her braid. ”

“ Royall had said in telling her story to Lucius Harney: "Yes, there was a mother; but she was glad to have the child go. She'd have given her to anybody...."
Well! after all, was her mother so much to blame? Charity, since that day, had always thought of her as destitute of all human feeling; now she seemed merely pitiful. What mother would not want to save her child from such a life? Charity thought of the future of her own child, and tears welled into her aching eyes, and ran down over her face. ”

“ Laughs and jeers were beginning to spring up from the circle of people beyond their group; and a voice called out from the gangway: “Now, then, step lively there—all ABOARD!” The pressure of approaching and departing passengers forced the actors in the rapid scene apart, and pushed them back into the throng. Charity found herself clinging to Harney's arm and sobbing desperately. Mr. Royall had disappeared, and in the distance she heard the receding sound of Julia's laugh. ”

“ There it lay, a weather-beaten sunburnt village of the hills, abandoned of men, left apart by railway, trolley, telegraph, and all the forces that link life to life in modern communities. It had no shops, no theatres, no lectures, no "business block"; only a church that was opened every other Sunday if the state of the roads permitted, and a library for which no new books had been bought for twenty years, and where the old ones mouldered undisturbed on the damp shelves. Yet Charity Royall had always been told that she ought to consider it a privilege that her lot had been cast in North Dormer. ”

“ People paused going up and down, and each one added his bit to the general fund, or took with him the knowledge he was eagerly seeking.
And when someone said, "Heard from your son yet, Mr. Adams?" he could only make a negative gesture.
"If there isn't some word of Cary Adams soon, his father will never live to welcome him home," said Madam Royall to her daughter. "He grows thinner every day. What a perfect Godsend Doris has been!" ”

“ He whose intellect was thus supreme, Raoul, was the actual sovereign; the other, nothing but a phantom to whom he lent a soul; and yet, so powerful is majesty amongst us, this man has not even the honor of a tomb at the feet of him in whose service his life was worn away. Remember, Raoul, this! If Richelieu made the king, by comparison, seem small, he made royalty great. ”

“ CXXIV The Count Rollanz, with sorrow and with pangs,
And with great pain sounded his olifant:
Out of his mouth the clear blood leaped and ran,
About his brain the very temples cracked.
Loud is its voice, that horn he holds in hand;
Charles hath heard, where in the pass he stands,
And Neimes hears, and listen all the Franks.
Then says the King: "I hear his horn, Rollant's;
He'ld never sound, but he were in combat."
Answers him Guenes "It is no battle, that.
Now are you old, blossoming white and blanched,
Yet by such words you still appear infant. ”

“ Raoul, learn how to distinguish the king from royalty; the king is but a man; royalty is the gift of God. Whenever you hesitate as to whom you ought to serve, abandon the exterior, the material appearance for the invisible principle, for the invisible principle is everything. Raoul, I seem to read your future destiny as through a cloud. It will be happier, I think, than ours has been. Different in your fate from us, you will have a king without a minister, whom you may serve, love, respect. ”

“ Still, they were all good-natured; that is, they were not angry; the difficulty only arose from their eagerness and their numbers,—and their disorganization.
“O dear me,” said Rollo, at length, “I [Pg 86] wish we had a regent again; we got along very well, while Lucy was a regent. Let me be regent now. Come, Henry and James, let me be regent, and I will direct, and then we shall have order again.”
“Well,” said James.
“No,” said Henry, “you have not been elected. You can’t be regent, unless you are chosen regularly.” ”

“ Raoul commanded harshly, "it was but a weakling who stood next thy seat of power. Behold! I, too, am thy son; I am stronger, of a stouter heart, abler and more courageous than he, and will make thee a fitter heir. Didst thou not slay thy brother to sit in his hall? Didst not thou hang him to drink his wine, to command his servants? Have I done aught but follow thy example?"
Heedless of his father's sobs Raoul pursued his unrelenting purpose.
"What the sword did for thee it has done for me, all glory to the sword," and he raised the reeking blade to his lips to kiss. ”

“ Raoul sat thinking.
"Always," says he in that History of Myself, "always I had an eye and a mind for ground. Once seen I knew it forever, or by day or by night." He had, in fact, a dog's sense of place and direction. Wrapped in the wet darkness, he saw clear all around him, the line of poplars close by, the willow clump a gunshot off, the dikes and the sluggish river. He knew the oblong camp, the post of the cavalry on either horn, the park of the guns and powder in the midst of the rearward line.
At last Raoul gathered up his reins and rode down to Taddeo's dead company. ”

“ The tone was the same to which Raoul had always submitted, but now he burst forth in open rebellion: "Grandfather, do not goad me too far. You have always reproached me with having my mother's blood in my veins, and you are right. All that I knew of happiness and freedom in the sunny days of my youth belonged to France, and there alone does life seem to me really worth the living. Here, in cold, gray Germany, I have never felt at home. Every joy is doled out to me grudgingly here; the phantom of duty is always held up to me. ”

“ His wisdom was proven. Leyden was open to the foe. An army might have marched through the breach.
But the army lay wearied out with no heart in it at The Hague.
Raoul slapped Valdez's florins in his breeches, and laughed and looked and laughed. He conceived himself justified to God and man. Then he turned westward. Driven by the great wind, swollen by the rain, the waters lay close below him. Boisot's boats were moving hither and thither sounding. Raoul waved his hat to them and shouted.
Loaded with thanks and kindly promises, Raoul was borne to a grand chamber in the burgomaster's house. ”

“ It is a sort of phrase."
"Yes," said Rollo; "I have heard it."
"You must understand, however," continued Mr. George, "that not all of the present aristocracy have descended from the old generals and nobles that came in with William. Many of those old families have become extinct, and their places have been supplied by new nobles that have been created from time to time by selection from the men that have most distinguished themselves as generals or statesmen. Still these men, however great they may be, never rise really to the same level of rank and consideration with the others. ”

“ From this centre of operations Rollo—the future conqueror and Duke of Normandy, now a formidable sea-king—led an overland force towards the French capital, and on his way was met by an envoy from the emperor, no less a personage than the Count of Chartres, the once redoubtable Hasting, now a noble of the empire.
"Valiant sirs," he said to Rollo and his chiefs, "who are you that come hither, and why have you come?"
"We are Danes," answered Rollo, proudly; "all of us equals, no man the lord of any other, but lords of all besides. We are come to punish these people and take their lands. ”

“ Meeting a plain farmer-looking man, he ordered him imperiously to get out of his way. Sir, said the other, I don’t understand this: I am upon the footpath, where I certainly have a right to walk. Do you know, sir, said Mr. Reynell, to whom you speak? I do not, indeed. Sir, I am Mr. Reynell, of Edinburgh. Well, sir, but that certainly does not entitle you to ride on the footpath, and to drive a humble pedestrian off it. Why, sir, I am a trustee of this road. If you are, you are a very bad one. You are a very impudent fellow—who are you, sir? I am John, Duke of Montague. ”

“ Raoul looked back over his shoulder.
“My, she’s grand and solemn looking. She’s sitting by the window!” He moved away so that Dian could peer through. The shepherd hesitated. It was not to his liking, this looking in on a woman, but he wanted to see what the room was like and to pass his note to the comtesse. He put his eyes to the opening and saw the comtesse sitting, as Raoul had said, by the narrow window, dressed in her black frock, her hands folded in her lap.
Raoul had roamed on down the hall, peering in at doors and shuffling his feet along the velvet carpet as he went. ”

“ A scream, a rush, a splash, the bubble of foam bells on the dull, slimy moat, and the white waif is gone for ever!
“My Raoul!” is whispered in the ringing ears of the Laird of Baikie, as he closes his eyes by the bright sparkling stream.
But Sir Raoul recovers, stiff, sore, and strange: sunshine and silence, the firm castle walls, the restless Isla water, an open empty window, before him. He comprehends with an awful shock; he waits a moment; he crawls along, as other poor victims have done after him; he sees the weeds on the moat broken and streaked as the Northern lights in a winter sky ”