Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

66 JOSEPH WILMOT ; a“ OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. it by the exceeding morbid state of my mind at the time, as well as by the strange and unnatural manner in which various ideas and reflections, so really opposite in themselves, Were jumbled and blended together ; but certain it is that the words I had thus thrown out, left behind an impression like a presentiment. It appeared as if I had received some instinctive revelation—some incom- prehensible intuitive warning—that Annabel was really to perish within a twelyemonth. So strong did this idea become, that I could not possibly put it away from my mind. I rose from my seat— shut the volume I had been reading—and thought of retiring to rest: for [knew that it must be past ten o’clock. But there was upon me such a pecu- liar sensation, I knew I should not be able to sleep: strange longings too were inspiring me—a morbid curiosity had me in its spell-like power. Midsummer’s Eve!—and this was the night on which that yearning curiosity could be gratified! A feeling stronger than myself, urged me to do what my thoughts were suggesting. It was easy for me to steal forth unperceived from the house : no one would come to my chamber to ascer- tain whether I were there or not. I was not alarmed: had a spirit from the dead really arisen before me then, I do not think that I should haye been frightened: I believe that I should have had the courage to question it calmly and firmly. I put on my hat—stole down the servants’ staircase —and issued forth from the Hall. It was a lovely night: the heayen was studded with countless stars—the smallest print might have been read with facility: the very serenity of the heavens, with their unclouded azure, appeared to strengthen me in the purpose which I had in view. If I had seen black clouds—if the night were dark and gloomy, and Nature had threatened to speak forth in the thunder-yoice of the storm, and to send her lightning glances gleaming yividly athwart the sky,—I should have been appalled—fI should have shrunk back to my own chamber. But it was far otherwise: brightness, serenity, and silent loveliness filled the atmosphere. I proceeded across the ficlds: nearer and nearer I drew to the village of Charlton. I reached the stile where the peasant had told me the tale in connexion with the tragedy; and there I rested for a few minutes. My way was soon continued: there was a kind of serene awe in my soul: I was still with- out fear—still resolute in the purpose which I had in hand. As I approached the village, no sound reached my ears :—all was still. It was close upon midnight: the ale-house was shut: not even a single straggler or belated individual was to be seen. JI entered the churchyard; and though the tombstones gleamed ghastly white in the silvery effulgence poured down from heaven, they were fraught with no terrors for me: nor did-my ima- gination conjure up spectres from those graves which were thickly scattered around. I looked up at the clock, the dial of which plainly revealed its hands and its figures; and I saw that it wanted five minutes of midnight. The church had a row of long, narrow arched windows, set high up in the wall; and several small square ones so close down towards the ground as to enable even a young child to see through them into the church. I approached one of these, and gazed inf the interior of the edifice. Through every one of the casements poured the starlight, so that scarcely any dark places were seen within. There were the ranges of pews, humbly fashioned as they are in small village-churches—there was the pulpit against the wall facing the very window through which I looked: I could see the commu- nion table at the extremity—the baptismal font in one of the aisles. Outside the church, the silence, though complete, appeared serene :—within, its reign seemed to be profoundly solemn. And now, for the first time since I had issued forth from the Hall, a sort of vague terror began to creep oyer me—a sensation of awe, not so much inspired by the graves of the dead surrounding the exterior of the church, as by the deep solemnity of the silence which appeared to prevail therein. That sensation of terror augmented: I felt my blood getting colder and colder, and appearing to stagnate more and more in my yeins:—I wished that I mad not come. Indeed, I was about to quit my post at the window,—when suddenly the first stroke of twelve smote myear. Deep and solemn appeared to speak the metallic voice of Time: its sounds sank down into my heart with the awe which is produced by the roar of the thunder. That iron din seemed to smite my very brain: I was transfixed to the spot; and with an irresistible fascination my eyes were fixed upon the window—or rather upon the interior of the church seen through it. Stroke after stroke clanged forth, booming deeply and solemnly through the hitherto serene air, and raising echoes within the building which likewise met my ears. I counted those strokes—counted them mechanically: I was no longer the master of my own actions—I was under the influence of a spell-like feeling impossible to be described ! One—two—three —four— five— six—seven— eighf—nine—ten—eleven—twelve! And scarcely had the last stroke rung forth—still was the metal- lic sound vibrating in the air—when a female form, clad in a light dress that seemed like the garment of the graye, appeared just within the casement, as if passing slowly down the aisle on which that window looked. An ejaculation of terror burst from my lips—a face, white as that of the dead, was turned towards me It was Annabel’s and with a louder and wilder cry I fell back senseless. —_———s CHAPTER XV. THE LAST VISIT OF THE BOUSTEADS. WueEn I came to myself, I was lying in the church- yard, close by the window where I had fallen down, —the light of the moon and stars still flooding the atmosphere, playing upon the graves, and throw- ing forth the tombstones in ghastly relief around me. Though the night air was warm, yet I felt cold as if the blood had all frozen in my veins: IL was shuddering and shivering, too, with vague ter- rors and dreadful thoughts. The hand of death seemed to be upon me: the memorials and em- blems of death met my wild glances in every direc- tion as they were flung around: grayes and tomb- stones—tombstones and grayes—in uninterrupted succession! My looks were again turned towards EGOMmiIchboo Ss (C(@) in