It was mid-afternoon when they began to pass through that series of

suburbs which the city has flung like a single tentacle northward for

a hundred miles along the eastern banks of the Hudson.

A smooth road of bluestone with a surface like velvet, rarely broken

by badly paved or badly worn sections, ran straight south. Past

mansions standing amid spacious lawns all ablaze with late summer and

early autumn flowers they sped; past parks, long stretches of walls,

high fences of wrought iron through which brief glimpses of woodlands

and splendid gardens caught Rue's eye. And, every now and then,

slowing down to traverse some village square and emerging from the

further limits, the great river flashed into view, sometimes glassy

still under high headlands or along towering parapets of mountains,

sometimes ruffled and silvery where it widened into bay or inland sea,

with a glimmer of distant villages on the further shore.

Over the western bank a blinding sun hung in a sky without a cloud--a

sky of undiluted azure; but farther south, and as the sun declined,

traces of vapours from the huge but still distant city stained the

heavens. Gradually the increasing haze changed from palest lavender

and lemon-gold to violet and rose with smouldering undertones of fire.

Beneath it the river caught the stains in deeper tones, flowing in

sombre washes of flame or spreading wide under pastel tints of

turquoise set with purple.

Now, as the sun hung lower, the smoke of every river boat, every

locomotive speeding along the shores below, lay almost motionless

above the water, tinged with the delicate enchantment of declining

day.

And into this magic veil Rue was passing already through the calm of a

late August afternoon, through tree-embowered villages and towns, the

names of which she did not know--swiftly, inexorably passing into the

iris-grey obscurity where already the silvery points of arc-lights

stretched away into intricate geometrical designs--faint traceries as

yet sparkling with subdued lustre under the sunset heavens.

Vast shadowy shapes towered up ahead--outlying public buildings,

private institutions, industrial plants, bridges of iron and steel,

the ponderous bowed spans of which crossed wildernesses of railroad

tracks or craft-crowded waters.

Two enormous arched viaducts of granite stretched away through

sparkling semi-obscurity--High Bridge and Washington Bridge. Then it

became an increasing confusion of phantom masses against a fading

sky--bridges, towers, skyscrapers, viaducts, boulevards, a wilderness

of streets outlined by the growing brilliancy of electric lamps.

Brandes, deftly steering through the swarming maze of twilight

avenues, turned east across the island, then swung south along the

curved parapets and spreading gardens of Riverside Drive.

Perhaps Brandes was tired; he had become uncommunicative, inclined to

silence. He did point out to her the squat, truncated mass where the

great General slept; called her attention to the river below, where

three grey battleships lay. A bugle call from the decks came faintly

to her ears.




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