“Ah!” said Nell, “how I should like to feel myself carried along in that silent whirl! And what are those shining sparks which glance here and there between rents in the clouds?”
“Those are the stars I have told you about, Nell. So many suns they are, so many centers of worlds like our own, most likely.”
The constellations became more clearly visible as the wind cleared the clouds from the deep blue of the firmament. Nell gazed upon the myriad stars which sparkled overhead. “But how is it,” she said at length, “that if these are suns, my eyes can endure their brightness?”
“My child,” replied James Starr, “they are indeed suns, but suns at an enormous distance. The nearest of these millions of stars, whose rays can reach us, is Vega, that star in Lyra which you observe near the zenith, and that is fifty thousand millions of leagues distant. Its brightness, therefore, cannot affect your vision. But our own sun, which will rise to-morrow, is only distant thirty-eight millions of leagues, and no human eye can gaze fixedly upon that, for it is brighter than the blaze of any furnace. But come, Nell, come!”
They pursued their way, James Starr leading the maiden, Harry walking by her side, while Jack Ryan roamed about like a young dog, impatient of the slow pace of his masters. The road was lonely. Nell kept looking at the great trees, whose branches, waving in the wind, made them seem to her like giants gesticulating wildly. The sound of the breeze in the tree-tops, the deep silence during a lull, the distant line of the horizon, which could be discerned when the road passed over open levels—all these things filled her with new sensations, and left lasting impressions on her mind.
After some time she ceased to ask questions, and her companions respected her silence, not wishing to influence by any words of theirs the girl’s highly sensitive imagination, but preferring to allow ideas to arise spontaneously in her soul.
At about half past eleven o’clock, they gained the banks of the river Forth. There a boat, chartered by James Starr, awaited them. In a few hours it would convey them all to Granton. Nell looked at the clear water which flowed up to her feet, as the waves broke gently on the beach, reflecting the starlight. “Is this a lake?” said she.
“No,” replied Harry, “it is a great river flowing towards the sea, and soon opening so widely as to resemble a gulf. Taste a little of the water in the hollow of your hand, Nell, and you will perceive that it is not sweet like the waters of Lake Malcolm.”
The maiden bent towards the stream, and, raising a little water to her lips, “This is quite salt,” said she.
“Yes, the tide is full; the sea water flows up the river as far as this,” answered Harry.