Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 300: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SFERVANT. trees. No one however alluded to the circum- stance of the plantation being thus cut off from the dwelling: it seemed to be taken quite as a matter of course—a thing to which they were entirely accustomed; and therefore I did not choose to exhibit any impertinent curiosity by making an inquiry on the point. One evening, in the beginning of May—when I had retired to my chamber—I felt no inclination to sleep; and if the rules of the house had not compelled me to seclude myseli punctually at ten o’clock, I should have gone out to stroll in the garden. It was a delicious evening—warm, but with a pleasant freshness in the air; and extin- guishing the light, I gently opened my window, determined to enjoy the serene calm of the hour in my own room, as I could not do so in the gar- den. It was so light that I could have read a book with tolerably clear print: but I sat there, lean- ing with my arm on the window-sill, gazing forth —inhaling the pure atmosphere—and occupying myself with my thoughts. Presently it struck me that I heard a door open and shut in some part of the building; and the sound seemed to come from the direction of the plantation. The window of my chamber was on the highest floor, at the back of the house: and thus it commanded a view oi the grove of fir-trees. As I was looking in that direction, I distinctly perceived two human forms moying along the gravel-walk of the avenue; and they were those of females. Fearful of being observed, I drew in my head, and closed the win- dow as gently as I had opened it. Who could these be? Was Mrs. Shackleford one? and either of the female domestics the other ?—or were they the two female domestics? But if so, why should they wander in the planta- tion by night, and methought with a certain degree of stealthiness >—why should that enclosure be thus accessible under the wing of dusk or of darkness, when it was hermetically closed during the daylight? But then, I thought to myself that I was by no means certain it was never entered in the daytime: I had only concluded it was not, from the simple fact that I had never known any one to go thither during the month that I had now been at Heather Place. How could I tell but that walks were taken there by the Shacklefords when I was at Bagshot, making the household purchases? or when I was engaged in my own special duties in the pantry? Never- theless, the circumstance strengthened that vaguely floating suspicion of mystery which I had pre- viously entertained—a mystery which seemed to attach itself to the shut-up apartments. I retired to rest—but lay awake a considerable time, pon- dering over all these things. On the following evening, when I retired to my chamber, I could not help unclosing the window to a slight distance, and listening attentively to catch any sound of a door opening which might herald another ramble in the plantation. That sound did speedily reach my ears; JT dared not open the window wider, nor attempt to look forth, for fear of being observed. But I listened atten- tively, — listened with suspended breath. The night was as beautiful as the preceding one—of argentine clearness—and so still, so serene, that not a leaf in the garden could be heard to rustle. As I listened, methought that the accents of 287 female voices were wafted to my ears—but neces- sarily low, and perfectly indistinct as to whatsoever they were saying, on account of the distance from which they were thus heard. Indeed, they were scarcely more audible than the whispering of the zephyr’s breath would have been if there were the gentlest breeze to float through the foliage. But all of a sudden it struck me that I heard two or three deep convulsive sobs; and then all was still. Whether it were fancy I could not tell: but my belief inclined to the reality of the impression thus conveyed. Again I sought my couch, pondering on all these things, and more than ever convinced that there was some strange mystery attached to the shut-up apartments. On the following day I had comparatively no work to do: Mr. and Mrs. Shackleford went out together in the phaeton, to call upon Mrs, Foley, and extend their drive elsewhere ;—so that I, hav- ing several hours at my own disposal, ascended to my chamber to amuse myself with reading. Such was my intention: but on reaching my room, in- stead of taking a book, I lounged at the open win- dow, looking forth upon the plantation. In a few minutes I distinctly heard the sound of a door opening and shutting; and fearful of being ob- served, I drew back sufficiently to avoid being seen by any one who might be entering that inclosure of fir-trees. Still I kept myself in such a manner that I could peep round and catch a glimpse of what might be passing. I beheld two female forms pass slowly along the gravel-walk in that avenue,—in a few moments disappearing amongst the trees. One of those forms I had no difficulty in recognising as that of the housemaid: but who |the other was, I could not possibly tell. This latter had on a straw bonnet and a shawl; and the glimpse I obtained was so partial, that no definite impression as to her appearance was left on my mind. That she was not the cook, I was however certain: for she seemed slender and genteel— whereas the cook was stout and ungainly. Neither was she Mrs. Shackleford. Who, then, could she be? Perhaps a visitress to the housemaid. Struck by this idea—and thinking that if it were so, the housemaid was merely taking her thither to view the grounds, and would not have thought it worth while to lock the doors of communication—TI has- tened down stairs to ascertain how far my conclu- sions might be correct. But I found the passage- doors leading from the several landings, as well as that from the hall, into the shut-up portion of the building, securely locked as usual. Now, what was I to surmise? If that female with the bonnet and shawl was not a yisitress, could she be an inmate of the house ?—and if an inmate, did she inhabit that portion of the build- ing which I had been hitherto led to regard as being altogether untenanted? And again, if this surmise were correct, wherefore was she kept a prisoner ? why was she buried in such a dreadful seclusion? who could she be? I must candidly confess that I burnt with an insatiable curiosity for the clearing up of these mysteries, now that I knew that such mysteries did really exist, and that they were not the creations of my own fancy. ce LS ECORNICLOO@ SS co im