coach The shower ceased

The shower ceased, but the darkness continued. He had too well marked however the bent of his journey during the continuance of the day, to permit this to be any considerable obstacle. In the mean time it doubled and rendered more affecting the stilness of the night. Nothing was to be heard but the low whispers of the falling breeze, and the murmurs of the prowling wolf that now languished and died away upon the ear. This was the moment in which magic lords it supreme, in which the goblin breaks forth from his confinement, and ranges unlimited in the nether globe; and in which all that is regular and all that is beautiful give place to the hunger of the savage brute, and the witcheries of the sorcerer. But Roderic was otherwise engaged. His heart was employed in inventing guile, and was lulled into unapprehensive security. But Edwin was heroic. His bosom swelled with the most generous purposes; and he trusted unwaveringly in that guardianship that is every where present, and that eye that never slumbers.
He entered the walls of the enchanted castle. The novelty of the appearance of a stranger within the circle of those mountains, which no vulgar mortal had yet penetrated, the dignity of his appearance, and the boldness of his manner, at first distracted the attendants from the performance of that, which might have seemed most natural in their situation, and awed them into passiveness. He still wore that flowing and graceful garb, which was appropriated by the inhabitants of Clwyd to the celebration of public solemnities. He had passed through the midst of the shower, and yet one thread of his garment was not moistened with the impetuousness of its descent. His face wore a more beautiful and roseat glow than was native to its complexion. His eye was full of animation and expressiveness. Expectation, and hope, and dignity, and resolution had their entire effect in his appearance. “It is a celestial spirit!” cried they. “It is a messenger from the unseen regions!” and they sought in his person for the insignia that might confirm and establish their conjecture.
But such was not the imagination of Roderic. The master-guilt to which he was conscious, was ever ready to take the alarm upon any unexpected event; and he had immediately conjectured, by a kind of instinctive impression, who was this new and unwelcome guest. However unguarded and unprepared had been his retinue, they had recollected themselves sufficiently to detain Edwin in the avenue of the mansion, till they had received the orders of their lord. These were immediately communicated; and the magician withdrew himself till the proper period should arrive for his appearance to the swain.
Edwin, when he had entered the palace of Roderic, had been desirous, if it were possible, to push forward to the presence of his rival, without making any previous enquiries, or admitting of a moment’s pause. The frequency however of the domestics had disappointed his purpose, and he was detained by them in spite of his efforts. “What means,” cried he, “this violence? I must enter here. I will not be delayed. My purpose admits not of trifling and parley. To me every moment is big with fate.” He said. For Edwin disdained the employment of falsehood and disguise. He lifted the javelin in his hand, but his heart was too full of gentleness and humanity rashly to employ the instrument of death. His tone however was resolute, and his gesture commanding, and the astonished attendants were uncertain in what manner to conduct themselves.