The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 95: what you’re looking at

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84 THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. Zoe had remained in the drawing-room; and feel. ing no inclination to slumber, she sate down to finish letters that she had commenced to her father and husband in England. For certain reasons of her own, it was her ob- ject to write to Lord Octavian more in the epis- tolary styl of friend writing to frend than of wif There were no assurances of love in her letter-—but plenty of earnestly expressed wishes for his welfare and happiness. She wrote at great length too, as if to convince him that she was gra- tified in thus corresponding with him, and that the absence of love-assurances arose not from the ab- sence of love itself. She described in most pleasing and graphic language the beautifal scenery amidst which she was dwelling; and only slightly glancing at the state of her health, so worded her allusion thereto as to give him to understand that it expe- rienced no improvement. She was also careful to write in such a way as to make him comprehend that she preferred being separated, for the reason that a sickly wife would only be a clog upon the pursuits of her husband. She told him too that although she herself liked that Pyrenean scenery, it was not such as would compensate any young gentleman of the fashionable world for the loss of the gaiety, bustle, pleasures, and glitter of civiliza- tion to be enjoyed in the British metropolis. Zoe sate up much later than she had originally intended, in concluding these letters to her father énd husband. It was eleven o'clock before she laid down her pen; and then, feeling tired, she re- clined back in the chair to rest herself for a few minutes before seeking her chamber. While thus half reposing, the lamp which stood upon the table, and which was an old-fashioned one of heavy bronse, and fed with oil, suddenly grew dim; and in a few momente it became extinguished. Zoe did not choose to ring for another, as she knew that the domestics were accustomed to go to bed early; and she was likewise aware that she would find a light burning in her own chamber: for she had thing in her mind which she could not put off— something ive—something that lay there like a dead weight, and which rendered her nerv- ous and uneasy. What could i¢ mean? Zoe was strong-minded and little prone to superstitious tere ror: but now for the first time since she became an inmate of the Chateau, did she feel as if its lone- liness and gloom struck cold to her heart. Essay- ing all she could to conquer the feeling, she has- tened to seek her couch: but it was some time When Honor, her principal maid, entered the room in the morning, Zoe was about to tell hee what she had seen—or thought she had seen on the previous evening: but suddenly feeling ashamed of herself, she held her The topic how- ever was brought abont in another way: for as the maid was combing out the long light beaatifal hair of her mistress, she said, “Does your ladyship know that this old mansion has @ very strange repute ?” “ Indeed P” said Zoe: and it was almost with s start that she had heard her abigail’s question. “Yes, my lady,” continued Honor; “and I and Rachel ”—thus alluding to Zoe’s other female ser- vant—*“ have been kept awake nearly the whole night, thinking of what we heard for the first time before we went to bed.” “ Many very old buildings,” said Zoe, “have strange silly legends connected with them; and it is very foolish of you maids to terrify yourselves in this manner.” “Tam not frightened now, my lady, that it is broad daylight,” answered the maid: “bat at night-time, when all is dark and silent, or else when only the moon is shining, it isa very different thing. It was the gardener who was as last evening———he speaks a little English, for he was with an Koglish family for two years at Lyons some while “And what ‘aid this narrator of marvels tell you?” inquired Lady Octavian Meredith, kindly already intimated to Honor, her principal lady’s-| endeavouring by an assumed gaiety of manner to maid, that she was not to sit up for her, as she had intended to finish her letters before seeking her couch. Issuing from the now dark drawing-room, Zoe was crossing the passage to reach her own cham- ber,—when by the clear moonlight which pene- trated through the window at the extremity of that passage, she distinctly perceived a human form moving along. At first she thought it must be either M. Volney or the gardener—for it was the form of a man, and they were the only two males within the walls of the Chateau. But the next instant she felt assured it was neither of those persons, it being a much taller figure. It was proceeding rapidly. Zoe stopped short; and the chill of an unknown terror shot through her as the conviction smote her that she heard not the faintest sound of footeteps. A superstitious dread seized upon her: she passed her hand acroes her eyes—looked again in the same direction—and now beheld nothing to break the silver shafte of the moonlight which streamed brilliantly in through the window. She hastened into her own chamber, endceavour- ing to persuade herself that it was a delusion; and aleo endeavouring to be angry with herself for having yielded to it, But still there was some- dispel whatecever remnant of superstitious fear might be lingering in the mind of her maid. “I will tell your ladyship,” responded Honor. “It was never before last evening that he touched upon the subject ; because I think he dares not in old dame Marguerite’s presence: but she had gone to bed early through indisposition, and so the gar- dener got talkative.” “ And what was it that he said ?” again inquired Zoe, affecting a tone of indifference, though she in reality experienced a degree of interest in the ex- pected narrative, for which she felt almost ashamed of hereelf. “ It seems, my ledy,” resamed the maid, “ that when the first Revolution broke out, the noble family to which the Chateau belonged, fied to KEngiand ; and for a few years the building re- mained shut up. At length the Chateau and estate were given by the Hepublican Government fo a gentleman named Lenoir, and who had ren- dered some signal services by placing in the hands of the aathorities certain correspondence that fell in his way, and which proved the existence of a great royalist conspiracy. M. Lenoir was quite young—not above three or four and twenty: he was a staupch Republican; and, as I have said, he was rewarded for his services by having thi: espe GOHMGooOo ——p 6 qua (42 Ss eee -6- eee EO