CHAPTER XXV 349
small estate of two or three farms he possessed thirty miles off -- business it was requisite he should settle in person , previous to his meditated departure from England . I waited now his return ; eager to disburthen my mind , and to seek of him the solution of the enigma that perplexed me . Stay till he comes , reader ; and , when I disclose my secret to him , you shall share the confidence .
I sought the orchard , driven to its shelter by the wind , which all day had blown strong and full from the south , without , however , bringing a speck of rain . Instead of subsiding as night drew on , it seemed to augment its rush and deepen its roar : the trees blew steadfastly one way , never writhing round , and scarcely tossing back their boughs once in an hour ; so continuous was the strain bending their branchy heads northward -- the clouds drifted from pole to pole , fast following , mass on mass : no glimpse of blue sky had been visible that July day .
It was not without a certain wild pleasure I ran before the wind , delivering my trouble of mind to the measureless air-torrent thundering through space . Descending the laurel walk , I faced the wreck of the chestnut-tree ; it stood up black and riven : the trunk , split down the centre , gasped ghastly . The cloven halves were not broken from each other , for the firm base and strong roots kept them unsundered below ; though community of vitality was destroyed -- the sap could flow no more : their great boughs on each side were dead , and next winter ' s tempests would be sure to fell one or both to earth : as yet , however , they might be said to form one tree -- a ruin , but an entire ruin .
" You did right to hold fast to each other ," I said : as if the monster-splinters were living things , and could hear me . " I think , scathed as you look , and charred and scorched , there must be a little sense of life in you yet , rising out of that adhesion at the faithful , honest roots : you will never have green leaves more -- never more see birds making nests and singing idyls in your boughs ; the time of pleasure and love is over with you : but you are not desolate : each of you has a comrade to sympathise with him in his decay ." As I looked up at them , the moon appeared momentarily in that part of the sky which filled their fissure ; her disk was blood- red and half overcast ; she