Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 381: what you’re looking at

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368 evidently retracing their way; and again too did the rustling garments brush against the wall and door. That same sense of superstitious awe which was yet upon me, thrilled as it were into an irre- sistible impulse; and gently opening the door, I looked out. I caught sight of the figure just as it entered into the sphere of the moonbeams under the skylight. ‘There it stood for nearly a minute —a black shape of female semblance. Yes: the same which had entered my chamber, and that it was no delusion of the fancy on my part at the time I was half-slumbering in the arm-chair. I remained upon the threshold of my room,— my eyes riveted upon the figure in the midst of the moonbeams, and which thus stood at a dis- tance cf about twenty yards from me. Again a low deep moan of indescribable anguish came floating gloomily along the chill atmosphere of the corridor; and then I saw the figure move slowly towards the tall portals which were upon that landing, beneath the groined archway, and which I had supposed to belong to an oratorio or chapel. One leaf of the folding-doors was pushed open ; and then a light streamed forth—but a light different from that of the moonbeams with which it blended. The figure passed in—the door closed again—the light disappeared—and only the cold rays of the moon fell through the skylight upon the spot where the instant before that figure had stood. Again I asked myself what could all this mean? —and I must candidly confess that I was seized with an irresistible curiosity. It seemed as if something were passing around me of no ordinary character; and with a sort of superstitious feeling I began to reflect that possibly my own circum- stances, or things relating to myself, were mixed up with what was thus passing. Such a state of mind may be readily conceived and comprehended, when it is remembered that I was there, in that old chateau—a strange lonely place—of gloomy aspect—while darkness was yet upon the earth— that my dreams had been so yaried and so hideous —and that I was startled up from them by a shape so well calculated to fill my soul with awe. I remained riveted to the spot near my chamber- door, my eyes bent in the direction of the land- ing. I longed to hasten thither, and to follow that shape into whatsoever place the tall portals might lead: but my inclination and my power were opposed to each other—I could not obey the dictates of the former, because my limbs were paralysed and I was rooted to the spot. Thus a few minutes passed. One leaf of the portals opened again: the light streamed forth for an instant—the dark shape again passed through the cold moonbeams—it proceeded along the corridor in the contrary direction from that where I was standing: I heard a door open and shut—and then all was still. Now it appeared as if the spell which had ren- dered me statue-like, was lifted from off me; and I was enabled to obey the impulse of my inclina- tions. Noiselessly on tip-toe did I advance along the corridor,—taking no candle with me, for I knew that there was a light inside the place with which the tall portals communicated. There was a solemn sensation of absorbing awe upon me asl - eww ae eC _ ~@-—<= - -—~~ =. me ee JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. footsteps again became audible as they : conviction was strong within me that it was the em ae ee eee eer thus pursued my way; and in a few moments I reached the landing. ‘I pushed open the folding- doors, which swung noiselessly upon their hinges; and a glance showed me that my original idea in repect to this place was correct: for it was fitted up as an oratorio or chapel. But that solemn sen- sation of awe grew all the more profound, and the blood stagnated glacially in my veins, as I found myself in the presence of funereal preparations. In the centre of the oratorio a coflin, covered with a pall, rested upon tressels ; and two tall wax-candles stood at the head—two also at the feet. These tapers had given forth the light which I had ere now seen mingling with the moonbeams when the portals were opened; and a glance at the farther extremity showed me the arched window through which the same light had shone when descried by me in the road immediately after the upsetting of the malle-poste. I had stopped short just at the entrance of the little chapel; and when my looks, sweeping around, had taken in the objects which I have described, I was painfully smitten with the idea that I was an intruder upon a scene of death’s solemnity. Then, too, the thought flashed to me that the shape in the dark garments was some unhappy mourner deploring the loss of the loved one that lay coffined there—and that rendered restless and unquiet by bitter affliction, this mourner wandered thus late through the chateau. Ashamed of myself for having yielded to the curiosity which brought me thither, I again glanced quickly around to see if any other person were in the oratorio: but no—I was alone with the coffined dead. I observed that it was a very small coflin—evidently that of a young child; and perhaps it was the bereaved mother whose wanderings had alike disturbed and terrified me. Conscious of having grossly violated the hospitality which was afforded me within the walls of the chateau, I abruptly quitted the ora- torio—and hastily but noiselessly retraced my way to my own chamber. I was bitterly vexed with myself for having left it at all; and my only source of congratulation was that I had not been observed by any inmate of the dwelling. Still I was at a loss to comprehend how it was that the bereaved mourner had found her way to my apartment, and wherefore she had come in to startle me. Completely relieved, however, from all fears of treachery, I laid aside my apparel ; and extinguish- ing the candles, entered the couch. I could not immediately compose myself to sleep: all the inci- dents of the night kept occupying my brain. But at length slumber stole upon me; and I slept for a while without dreaming—or at least without after- wards recollecting what were the visions which visited me. But presently it seemed to me as if I were gradually becoming aware of the presence of some one again in the room; and I felt just as I had previously done when reposing in the arm- chair—that is to say, whatsoever was passing ope- rated on my senses, came within the sphere of my consciousness, and yet did not dissipate my slum- ber. It appeared that the fire was burning up, and that its light played flickeringly through the room—that by the aid of this light I beheld the female shape clad in the mourning garments, ad- vancing towards my bed—but that her counte- nance was either so turned, or else so thrown into the shade, that I could not catch it I had the ee CORNICE O@ €5) (C(O) im