CHAPTER VII.
When I awoke, I thought that I was on shipboard; for the first sound I heard was that of the sea booming against the castle walls. I arose, looked out of the window of my bedchamber, and saw that the whole prospect bore an air of savage wildness. As I contemplated the scene, my imagination was seized with the idea of remoteness from civilized society: the melancholy feeling of solitary grandeur took possession of my soul.
From this feeling I was relieved by the affectionate countenance of my old nurse, who at this instant put her head half in at the door.
“I only just made bold to look in at the fire, to see did it burn, because I lighted it myself, and would not be blowing of it for fear of wakening you.”
“Come in, Ellinor, come in,” said I. “Come quite in.”
“I will, since you’ve nobody with you that I need be afraid of,” said she, looking round satisfied, when she saw my own man was not in the room.
“You need never be afraid of any body, Ellinor, whilst I am alive,” said I; “for I will always protect you. I do not forget your conduct, when you thought I was dead in the banqueting-room.”
“Oh! don’t be talking of that; thanks be to God there was nothing in it! I see you well now. Long life to you! Sure you must have been tired to death last night, for this morning early you lay so quite, sleeping like an angel; and I could see a great likeness in yees to what you were when you were a child in my arms.”
“But sit down, sit down, my good Ellinor,” said I, “and let us talk a little of your own affairs.”
“And are not these my own affairs?” said she, rather angrily.