Book format: An electronic version of a printed book that can be read on a computer or handheld device designed specifically for this purpose.
Publisher: General Books LLC (11 Jan. 2012)
By: John Esten Cooke (Author)
This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1860. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... the militia was organized, and only a match to fire the train was required. Lord Dunmore applied this match on the 20th of April, by removing the powder from the old magazine in Williamsburg. But let us not anticipate. CHAPTER LXXI. Bonntbel's Dream. At Vanely all is bright and beautiful again, as on that morning when St. John and Tom Alston cantered to the door, together, on the day succeeding Lady Dunmore's entry. The fine season of May has nearly come, and the swallows twitter, as before: the grass is full of flowers: the great oaks clothe themselves in heavy foliage, through which the breezes of the spring pass, as it were, with laughter. In the beautiful sunsets and the golden dawns, the fine old mansion raises proudly its gray walls, and looks down, smiling, on the fields and river, as before. Let us follow one of the curious and prying rays of sunrise into a chamber of the mansion. The indiscreet and careless intruder, as though weary with his long journey of so many millions of miles, falls prostrate, and rests tranquilly upon the soft hair of Bonnybel, who sleeps beside her sister. The sisters always occupy one apartment and one bed. It was always so in their childhood: they retain the habit. Helen is awake, but lies, as it were, in that delightful state of semi-consciousness which is such a luxury to the dreamer. The young lady dreams, so to speak, though she does not sleep. From this reverie she is aroused by what seems a sob at her side. She turns her head quickly, and looks at her sister. Bonnybel lies with one round bare arm thrown outside the counterpane: the other is placed beneath her head. Over the white arm fall the curls of her soft brown hair, like a golden ripple: for the vagrant sunbeams change their hue, and make them shine. The light fal...