"
Upwards of a year, he informed me, had now elapsed without effacing
from her mind this singular taint of insanity; still her friends hoped
it might gradually wear away. They had at one time removed her to a
distant part of the country, in hopes that absence from the scenes
connected with her story might have a salutary effect; but, when her
periodical melancholy returned, she became more restless and wretched
than usual, and, secretly escaping from her friends, set out on foot,
without knowing the road, on one of her pilgrimages to the chapel.
This little story entirely drew my attention from the gay scene of the
fete, and fixed it upon the beautiful Annette. While she was yet
standing on the terrace, the vesper-bell was rung from the
neighbouring chapel. She listened for a moment, and then drawing a
small rosary from her bosom, walked in that direction. Several of the
peasantry followed her in silence; and I felt too much interested, not
to do the same.
The chapel, as I said before, is in the midst of a grove, on the high
promontory. The inside is hung round with little models of ships, and
rude paintings of wrecks and perils at sea, and providential
deliverances--the votive offerings of captains and crews that have
been saved.
Pages:
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404