that water in it for any
reason that man could urge.
What was the mischief that sooner or later was to befall him from that
lake, he could not define; but that some fatal danger lurked there, was
the one idea concerning it that had possession of his fancy.
He was now looking along its still waters, towards the copse and rocks
of Snakes Island, thinking of Philip Feltram; and the yellow level
sunbeams touched his dark features, that bore a saturnine resemblance to
those of Charles II, and marked sharply their firm grim lines, and left
his deep-set eyes in shadow.
Who has the happy gift to seize the present, as a child does, and live
in it? Who is not often looking far off for his happiness, as Sidney
Smith says, like a man looking for his hat when it is upon his head? Sir
Bale was brooding over his double hatred, of Feltram and of the lake. It
would have been better had he struck down the raven that croaked upon
his shoulder, and listened to the harmless birds that were whistling all
round among the branches in the golden sunset.
CHAPTER VIII
Feltram's Plan
This horror of the beautiful lake, which other people thought so lovely,
was, in that mind which affected to scoff at the unseen, a distinct
creation of downright superstition.
The nursery tales which had scared him in his childhood were founded on
the tragedy of Snakes Island, and haunted him with an unavowed
persistence still. Strange dreams untold had visited him, and a German
conjuror, who had made some strangely successful vaticinations, had told
him that his worst enemy would come up to him from a lake. He had heard
very nearly the same thing from a fortune-teller in France; and once at
Lucerne, when he was waiting alone in his room for the hour at which he
had appointed to go upon the lake, all being quiet, there came to the
window, which was open, a sunburnt, lean, wicked face. Its ragged owner
leaned his arm on the window-frame, and with his head in the room, said
in his patois, "Ho! waiting are you? You'll have enough of the lake one
day. Don't you mind watching; they'll send when you're wanted;" and
twisting his yellow face into a malicious distortion, he went on.
This thing had occurred so suddenly, and chimed-in so oddly with his
thoughts, which were at that moment at distant Mardykes and the haunted
lake, that it disconcerted him. He laughed, he looked out of the window.
He would have given that fellow money to tell him why he sa
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