A handsome open carriage, driven by the earl’s old coachman, awaited them.
They entered it at once, and the coachman turned the horses’ heads and began to ascend the graded and winding road that led up to the top of the cliff, and then drove all along the edge of the precipice in the direction of the castle.
It was a magnificent prospect, with the moors rolling off in hill and vale, but always rising toward the range of mountains on the east; and the ocean rolling away toward the western horizon, where the sky was still aflame with the afterglow of the sunset; while straight before them, though many miles distant up the coast, stretched out into the sea the mighty promontory of Enderby Cliff, with the ruined border castle standing on its crest, and the ocean beating at its base, while a few yards nearer inland stood the latter building, which was the dwelling of the earl and his household.
Wynnette had never been accused of artistic, poetic or romantic tendencies, yet, gazing on that scene, she fell into thought, thence into dream, finally into vision; and she saw passing before her, in a long procession, tall and brawny, yellow-haired savages, clad in the skins of wild beasts, and armed with heavy clubs, which they carried over their shoulders; then barbarians in leathern jerkins, armed with bows and arrows; rude soldiers with battle-axes and shields of tough hide; then a splendid procession of mounted knights in helmets, shining armor and gorgeous accouterments; ladies in long gowns of richest stuffs and high headgear, that looked like long veils hoisted above the head on a clothes prop; then trains of courtiers in plumed hats, full ruffs, rich doublets and trunk hose; and ladies in close velvet caps and cupid’s bow borders, large ruffs, long waists and enormous fardingales; next a train of cavaliers, with flapping bonnets, flowing locks, velvet coats and—
“Wynnette!”
It was the voice of her father that broke the spell and dispersed the visionary train.
“Are you asleep, my dear?”
“N-n-no, papa; only dreaming dreams and seeing visions,” replied the girl, rousing herself.
“Well, my dear, we are entering the castle courtyard.”
Wynnette looked out and saw that they were crossing the drawbridge that had been down for centuries over a moat that had been dry for nearly as long a period, and which was now thickly grown up in brushwood, and were entering under the arch of the great portcullis, which had been up for as many years as the drawbridge had been down and the moat had been dry.