The Last Man


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assert his claim, not plead his cause.  
The truce was to continue until the first of February, when the bands were  
again to assemble on the Place Vendome; it was of the utmost consequence  
therefore that Adrian should arrive in Paris by that day, since an hair  
might turn the scale, and peace, scared away by intestine broils, might  
only return to watch by the silent dead. It was now the twenty-eighth of  
January; every vessel stationed near Dover had been beaten to pieces and  
destroyed by the furious storms I have commemorated. Our journey however  
would admit of no delay. That very night, Adrian, and I, and twelve others,  
either friends or attendants, put off from the English shore, in the boat  
that had brought over the deputies. We all took our turn at the oar; and  
the immediate occasion of our departure affording us abundant matter for  
conjecture and discourse, prevented the feeling that we left our native  
country, depopulate England, for the last time, to enter deeply into the  
minds of the greater part of our number. It was a serene starlight night,  
and the dark line of the English coast continued for some time visible at  
intervals, as we rose on the broad back of the waves. I exerted myself with  
my long oar to give swift impulse to our skiff; and, while the waters  
splashed with melancholy sound against its sides, I looked with sad  
affection on this last glimpse of sea-girt England, and strained my eyes  
not too soon to lose sight of the castellated cliff, which rose to protect  
the land of heroism and beauty from the inroads of ocean, that, turbulent  
as I had lately seen it, required such cyclopean walls for its repulsion. A  
solitary sea-gull winged its flight over our heads, to seek its nest in a  
cleft of the precipice. Yes, thou shalt revisit the land of thy birth, I  
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494 495 496 497 498

Quick Jump
1 154 308 461 615