It was as when the shadow of
midnight, that murderers had relied on, is passing away from your
beleagured shelter, and dawn will soon be manifest. It was as when a
flood, that all day long has raved against the walls of your house, has
ceased (you suddenly think) to rise; yes! measured by a golden plummet,
it _is_ sinking beyond a doubt, and the darlings of your household
are saved. Kate faced round in agitation to her proper direction. She
saw, what previously, in her stunning confusion, she had _not_
seen, that, hardly two stones' throw in advance, lay a mass of rock,
split as into a gateway. Through that opening it now became probable
that the road was lying. Hurrying forward, she passed within the
natural gates. Gates of paradise they were. Ah, what a vista did that
gateway expose before her dazzled eye? what a revelation of heavenly
promise? Full two miles long, stretched a long narrow glen, everywhere
descending, and in many parts rapidly. All was now placed beyond a
doubt. She _was_ descending--for hours, perhaps, _had_ been
descending insensibly, the mighty staircase. Yes, Kate is leaving
behind her the kingdom of frost and the victories of death. Two miles
farther there may be rest, if there is not shelter. And very soon, as
the crest of her new-born happiness, she distinguished at the other end
of that rocky vista, a pavilion-shaped mass of dark green foliage--a
belt of trees, such as we see in the lovely parks of England, but
islanded by a screen (though not everywhere occupied by the
usurpations) of a thick bushy undergrowth.
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