The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 339: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

o22 REYNOLDS’ WORKS ‘Yes, far as the eye can reach on every side,”’ and there was still exultation in his tone. Juliana liked not the response, and yet she scarcely knew wherefore. She thought to herself that in compensation for this savage and unproductive portion of the domain there must be other parts well cultured and exceedingly profitable. They now entered the wood of cork-trees, and ascended a rising path toward the entrance of the tower. The dawn was brightening, and Juliana perceived, through the vista | of the trees, that the edifice was half in ruins, that it was of small dimensions, and that it stood alone, utterly uncon- nected with the spacious array of buildings which, with casements, balconies, turrets, and pinnacles, she had ex- pected to break upon her view. The immense lawn upon which she fancied it might look, the gravelled walk, the pieces of artificial water, the fruit and flower gardens, the outhouses for numerous dependents, the adjacent parks an] pleasure-grounds, and the meadows covered with flocks and herds, —all the evidences, in short, of wealth, all the external show of luxury and comfort which she had anticipated to behold, where were they? She looked around in wild terror; there was something dismal and dispiriting in the aspect of the poverty-stricken and gaol-like old ruined tower. ‘“ Where is your mansion? ’”’ she asked, hurriedly and ex- citedly, of her husband. ‘ There — before you,’ to the tower. “That? ” shrieked forth Juliana, well-nigh falling from her horse. ‘And those people — those wild-looking people?’ she added, as several men and women, in the picturesque mountaineer costume of Catalonia, but the former carrying guns in their hands and having swords by their sides, suddenly emerged from the tower. ) was his response, as he pointed “Those are my people,’ replied her husband. “ The women will be your attendants, the men will fight for me © until the very death.”’ ‘Great God!” said Juliana, in a dying voice. ‘‘ Who are you? — Speak! who are you? ”’ “IT am Ramon de Collantes,”’ rejoined the false Count de Toledo, and his arm was at the same instant thrown around his wife’s form, as with a piercing shriek she was about to tumble headlong from her horse. ™ CONNIE DOO KS (E(0)