Oh! could
he but arrive soon enough to announce his return in that way! He tried
to do so, but his efforts were fruitless: the first Sunday arrived,
and he was still two days' journey from Verny. In the evening he found
himself in a large town, called Nuneville, fatigued with his now useless
endeavours, and resolved to proceed no further that day. Every thing
seemed prepared for the festival--the street was neat and clean--the
fountains adorned with branches, and decorated with large nosegays,
tied together with beautiful ribands--fir-trees marked the dwellings of
the young females--all had flowers around them, but he remarked, that
_one_ had only white ones on it, fastened with a crape riband--the
street was deserted. Before he could reach the inn, which was at
the other end of the town, he had to pass by the church and the
burial-ground; the former seemed full of women, and in the latter there
was an open grave. This melancholy sight rendered it evident, that some
one was dead; that her loss had suspended the public joy; and the
_bouquet_, encircled with crape, had been planted before the "house
of mourning." He entered the church-yard--groups of females were walking
there.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57