William Black （b. 1841,--） is one of the leading modern novelist of England. The scenes of his stories are for the most part laid in Scotland,and he excels in the delineation of Scotch character. But his most remarkable power is seen in those vivid,poetical deions of scenery,of which the following selection,adapted from "The Princess of Thule," is a good example. Mr. Black's most noted works,in addition tthe one named,are: "A Daughter of Heth," "The Strange Adventures of a Phaeton," "Kilmeny," and "McLeod of Dare."
1.Lavender had already transformed Sheila inta heroine during the half hour of their stroll from the beach and around the house;and as they sat at dinner on this still,brilliant evening in summer,he clothed her in the garments of romance.
2.Her father,with his great,gray beard and heavy brow,became the King of Thule,living in this solitary house overlooking the sea,and having memories of a dear sweetheart. His daughter,the Princess,had the glamour1of a thousand legends dwelling in her beautiful eyes;and when she walked by the shores of the Atlantic,that were now getting yellow under the sunset,what strange and unutterable thoughts must appear in the wonder of her face!
3.After dinner they went outside and sat down on a bench in the garden. It was a cool and pleasant evening. The sun had gone down in red fire behind the Atlantic,and there was still left a rich glow of crimson in the west,while overhead,in the pale yellow of the sky,some filmy clouds of rose color lay motionless. How calm was the sea1Glamour,witchery,or a charm on the eyes,making them see things differently from what they really are.out there,and the whiter stretch of water coming intLoch1 Roag! The cool air of the twilight was scented with sweetbrier. The wash of the ripples along the coast could be heard in the stillness.
4.The girl put her hand on her father's head,and reminded him that she had had her big greyhound,Bras,imprisoned all the afternoon,and that she had tgdown tBorvabost with a message for some people whwere leaving by the boat in the morning."But you can not gaway down tBorvabost by yourself,Sheila," said Ingram. "It will be dark before you return.""It will not be darker than this all the night through," said the girl.
5."But I hope you will let us gwith you," said Lavender,rather anxiously;and she assented with a gracious smile,and went tfetch the great deerhound that was her constant companion. And lo! he found himself walking with a Princess in this wonderland,through the magic twilight that prevails in northern latitudes. Mackenzie and Ingram had gone tthe front. The large deerhound,after regarding him attentively,had gone tits mistress's side,and remained closely there.
6.Even Sheila,when they had reached the loftiest part of their route,and could see beneath them the island and the water surrounding it,was struck by the exceeding beauty of the twilight;and as for her companion,he remembered it many a time thereafter,as if it were a dream of the sea.
7.Before them lay the Atlantic-a pale line of blue,still,silent,and remote. Overhead the sky was of a clear,thin gold,with heavy masses of violet cloud stretched across from north tsouth,and thickening as they got near the horizon. Down at their feet,near the shore,a dusky line of huts and houses was scarcely visible;and over these lay a pale blue film of peat2 smoke that did not move in the still air.
8.Then they saw the bay intwhich the White Water runs,and1Loch,a lake,a bay or arm of the sea. 2Peat,a kind of turf used for fuel.they could trace the yellow glimmer of the river stretching intthe island through a level valley of bog and morass. Far away towards the east lay the bulk of the island,-dark green undulations of moorland and pasture;and there,in the darkness,the gable of one white house had caught the clear light of the sky,and was gleaming westward like a star.
9.But all this was as nothing tthe glory that began tshine in the southeast,where the sky was of a pale violet over the peaks of Mealasabhal and Suainabhal. There,intthe beautiful dome,rose the golden crescent of the moon,warm in color,as though it still retained the last rays of the sunset. A line of quivering gold fell across Loch Roag,and touched the black hull and spars of the boat in which Sheila had been sailing in the morning.
10.That bay down there,with its white sands and massive rocks,its still expanse of water,and its background of mountain peaks palely covered by the yellow moonlight,seemed really a home for a magic princess whwas shut off from all the world. But here,in front of them,was another sort of sea,and another sort of life,-a small fishing village hidden under a cloud of pale peat smoke,and fronting the great waters of the Atlantic itself,which lay under a gloom of violet clouds.
11.On the way home it was again Lavender's good fortune twalk with Sheila across the moorland path they had traversed some little time before. And now the moon was still higher in the heavens,and the yellow lane of light that crossed the violet waters of Loch Roag quivered in a deeper gold. The night air was scented with the Dutch clover growing down by the shore. They could hear the curlew1 whistling and the plover2 calling amid that monotonous plash of the waves that murmured all around the coast.
12.When they returned tthe house,the darker waters of the Atlantic and the purple clouds of the west were shut out from sight;1Curlew （pro. kurlu）,an aquatic bird which takes its name from its cry.2Plover,a game bird frequenting river banks and the seashore.and before them there was only the liquid plain of Loch Roag ,with its pathway of yellow fire,and far away on the other side the shoulders and peaks of the southern mountains,that had grown gray and clear and sharp in the beautiful twilight. And this was Sheila's home.
