6. VI.
When she recovered from the faintness which
had overcome her, the storm had passed away —
the night was beautifully clear. The moon had
risen, and the gray forests looked sweet and hallowed
in her light. A gentle strain of music rose
upon the distant breeze, and still more contributed
to the soft loveliness and languor of the scene.
The bright eyes of Albert looked down into the
dewy orbs of Anastasia, and she thought she
never before had seen them look so beautiful. His
arm supported her, and she fancied its pressure had
never been so fond before. She was blest in that
embrace — and fear, and sorrow, and fatigue, departed
in the consciousness that she then felt of
having all that she lived for, and all that before
had been denied her love.
“We must proceed, my Anastasia — our dwelling
is not far — we can reach it by the dawn.
Our steeds are now in waiting.”
While the moon was yet shining, they stood
upon the rocky cliffs which overhung a beautiful
river. A proud and lonely castle stood in sight
upon the highest crag. The stream glided below
it with a pleasant freshness, and rippling away
among the shelving rocks, in the placid moonlight,
it seemed to the eyes of the happy Anastasia a
home of faëry — a very heaven for the heart of
truest love.
