Explore "The Last Chance" by Rolf Boldrewood on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The next departure was made successfully. From Yorkshire to Scotland is no great distance, though the wanderers did not cross the moors to Hawkstone Craig, but proceeded by the more modern route of Keighley and Sheffield.
Behold the pilgrims then, by the kind offices of the steam king, whose miracles Sir Walter regarded with ‘half-proud, half-sad, half-angry, and half-pleased feelings,' landed within walking distance of Abbotsford, and its haunting, magical memories of the Wizard of the North. They gazed with awe, and almost adoration, at the towers and turrets, pinnacles and mouldings of the famous abode of the more famous owner and designer. It seemed to these ardent spirits not so much a house, a family abode, as an enchanted Arabian Nights Palace, compact of the flesh and blood, the brain and spiritual essence of him whose pride and life-work it was. They were able to find suitable lodging accommodation in the vicinity, whence they could sally forth and live, so to speak, in that wondrous company of knights and nobles, medieval barons, Normans and Saxons, kings and queens, lovely heroines, and all the _dramatis persone_ of historical romance. They therefore, without delay, conceived and carried out the project of ‘viewing fair Melrose aright.'