Surely there never was and never could be such another morning as this!
Ever since the first peep of dawn a blackbird had been singing to me
from the fragrant syringa-bush that blossomed just beneath my window.
Each morning I had wakened to the joyous melody of his golden song.
But to-day the order was reversed. I had sat there at my open
casement, breathing the sweet purity of the morning, watching the
eastern sky turn slowly from pearl-grey to saffron and from saffron to
deepest crimson, until at last the new-risen sun had filled all the
world with his glory. And then this blackbird of mine had begun--very
hoarse at first, trying a note now and then in a tentative sort of
fashion, as though still drowsy and not quite sure of himself, but
little by little his notes had grown longer, richer, mellower, until
here he was pouring out his soul in an ecstasy.
Ah! surely there never was, there never could be, such another morning
as this!
Out of the green twilight of the woods a gentle wind was blowing, laden
with the scent of earth and hidden flowers. Dewdrops twinkled in the
grass and hung glistening from every leaf and twig, and beyond all was
the sheen of the murmurous river.
The blackbird was in full song now, and by degrees others joined
in--thrush, and lark, and linnet, with the humbler voices of the
farmyard--until the sunny air was vibrant with the chorus.
Presently a man in a sleeved waistcoat crossed the paddock, whistling
lustily, and from somewhere below there rose a merry clatter of plates
and dishes; and thus the old inn, which had seen so many mornings, woke
up to yet another. But there never was, there never could be, just
such another morning as this was!
And in a little while, having dressed with more than usual care, I went
downstairs to find my breakfast awaiting me in the "Sanded Parlour,"
having ordered it for this early hour the night previously--ham and
eggs and fragrant coffee, what mortal could wish for more?
And while I ate, waited on by the rosy-cheeked chambermaid, in came
Master Amos Baggett, mine host, to pass the time of day, and likewise
to assure me that my baggage should catch the early train; who when I
rose, my meal at an end, paused to wipe his honest hand quite
needlessly upon his snowy apron ere he wished me "Good-bye."
So having duly remembered the aforesaid rosy-cheeked chambermaid, the
obsequious "Boots" and the grinning ostler, I sallied forth into the
sunshine, and crossing the green, where stood the battered sign-post, I
came to a flight of rough steps, at the foot of which my boat was
moored. In I stepped, cast loose the painter, and shipping the sculls,
shot out into the stream.
No, there never was, there never could be, just such another morning as
this, for to-day I was to marry Lisbeth, and every stroke of the oar
carried me nearer to her and happiness. Gaily the alders bent and
nodded to me; joyfully the birds piped and sang; merrily the water
laughed and chattered against my prow as I rowed through the golden
morning.
Long before the hour appointed I reached the water-stairs at Fane
Court, and tying my skiff, lighted my pipe and watched the smoke rise
slowly into the still air while I tried "to possess my soul in
patience." Sitting thus, I dreamed many a fair dream of the new life
that was to be, and made many resolutions, as a man should upon his
wedding morn.
And at last came Lisbeth herself, swiftly, lightly, as fair and sweet
and fresh as the morning, who yet paused a while to lean upon the
balustrade and look down at me beneath the brim of her hat. Up I rose
and stretched out my hands to her, but she still stood there, and I saw
her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shy and tender. So once more we
stood upon the old water-stairs, she on the top stair, I on the lower;
and again I saw the little foot beneath her skirt come slowly towards
me and hesitate.
"Dick," she said, "you know that Aunt Agatha has cut me
off--disinherited me altogether--you have had time to think it all
over?"
"Yes."
"And you are quite--quite sure?"
"Quite! I think I have been so all my life."
"I'm penniless now, Dick, a beggar, with nothing in the world but the
clothes I wear."
"Yes," I said, catching her hands in mine, "my beggar-maid; the
loveliest, noblest, sweetest that ever stooped to bestow her love on
man.
"Dick, how glorious everything is this morning--the earth, the sky, and
the river!"
"It is our wedding morning!" said I.
"Our wedding day," she repeated in a whisper.
"And there never was just such a morning as this," said I.
"But, Dick, all days cannot be as this--there must come clouds and
storm sometimes, and--and--O Dick! are you sure that you will never,
never regret--"
"I love you, Lisbeth, in the shadow as well as the sunshine--love you
ever and always." And so, the little foot hesitating no longer,
Lisbeth came down to me.
Oh, never again could there be such another morning as this!
"Ahoy!"
I looked round with a start, and there, his cap cocked rakishly over
one eye, his "murderous cutlass" at his hip and his arms folded across
his chest, stood "Scarlet Sam, the Terror of the South Seas."
"Imp!" cried Lisbeth.
"Avast!" cried he in lusty tones; "whereaway?"