Leaving the gloomy shadows of the cliffs, under which the little Ariel
had been seen to steer, and the sullen roaring of the surf along the
margin of the ocean, we shall endeavor to transport the reader to the
dining parlor of St. Ruth's Abbey, taking the evening of the same day as
the time for introducing another collection of those personages, whose
acts and characters it has become our duty to describe.
The room was not of very large dimensions, and every part was glittering
with the collected light of half a dozen Candles, aided by the fierce
rays that glanced from the grate, which held a most cheerful fire of
sea-coal. The mouldings of the dark oak wainscoting threw back upon the
massive table of mahogany streaks of strong light, which played among
the rich fluids that were sparkling on the board in mimic haloes. The
outline of this picture of comfort was formed by damask curtains of a
deep red, and enormous oak chairs with leathern backs and cushioned
seats, as if the apartment were hermetically sealed against the world
and its chilling cares.
Around the table, which still stood in the centre of the floor, were
seated three gentlemen, in the easy enjoyment of their daily repast. The
cloth had been drawn, and the bottle was slowly passing among them, as
if those who partook of its bounty well knew that neither the time nor
the opportunity would be wanting for their deliberate indulgence in its
pleasures.
At one end of the table an elderly man was seated, who performed
whatever little acts of courtesy the duties of a host would appear to
render necessary, in a company where all seemed to be equally at their
ease and at home.
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