Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 325: what you’re looking at

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312 JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. CHAPTER CXLIII. that I now beheld: it became stationary: my eyes | were riveted upon it—and I was now convinced | that 1b was no tgnis fatuus, but a lantern carried THE CEMETERY IN THE VALE OF ARNO. by a human hand. All of a sudden if vanished: and then the idea gradually stole into my mind Tr was a little after ten in the evening that I | that the spot where I had seen it cou.d be at no ascended to my bed-chamber; and I took the| great distance from the piace where Lanover volume with me, that I might keep it by my bed-| was buried, even if it were not that very place side in ease I should find myself unable at once to | itself. woo the presence of slumber. On entering my Resurrectionists! Such was the horrible thought room, I experienced not the slightest inclination to | that now smote me. Criminal though Lanovyer retire to rest: I accordingly sate down and read | had been, my soul recoiled from the idea that his for some time: and the interesting character of | remains should be thus desecrated. Even were he the book made the interval pass rapidly enough. I | a murderer in fact (as he once was in intention finished the perusal of the volume; and when I | with regard to myself,) his remains shouid be left laid it down, my watch informed me that it was! to repose tranquilly in their last home. My blood half-past eleven o’clock. As I was winding up the | boiled with indignation, while my imagination was watch, methought that the sounds of some equi- | appalled with horror; and snatching up the taper, page advancing from a distance reached my ears, | I hastened from the room. Rushing up-stairs to I listened: the rolling of wheels and the trampling | the storey where I knew the man-servant slept, I of horses’ feet grew more and more audible: it was | knocked at his door,—purposing to take him with impossible to mistake the nature of those sounds. | me in order to prevent the final desecration of the The idea struck me that something fresh had oc- | deceased one’s grave. But no answer was given curred, and that the Count of Livorno was coming | to my summons; and the housekeeper, thrusting to impart it. I drew aside the window-draperies | forth her head from another room, informed me and looked forth: but how different was the night | that the lacquey had gone to pass the evening with from what several preceding nights had been! The | his father in Florence—that she had given bim darkness was intense: the pitchy blackness seemed | permission to sleep out for the night, on condition to hang like a funeral pall against the window: but | that he would return early in the morning: and the advancing sounds grew more and more dis- | she begged to know whether I was ill, or required tinct. At length they suddenly ceased: and I felt anything in which her ministiations would suf- convinced that an equipage of some kind had} fice? stopped at no great distance in the road—orrather} I atonce saw the inutility of alarming the house- the shady lane which separated the grounds of the | keeper and the other female servant, by stating villa from the cemetery. ‘any suspicions in respect to the recently buried What could this mean? The lane terminated | criminal: I therefore made some excuse to satisfy on the bank of the Arno: there was no habitation | her mind—bade her good night—and descended the at which it could have stopped: there was no; stairs. I bada pair of rifle-pistols in my port- apparent destination to whieh it could have been ' manteau: these 1 hastily echarged—secured them bound, when coming along that lane, except the | about my person—and noiselessly issued forth villa where I dwelt. Perhaps some accident had | from the house, taking with me the key of the occurred? Perhaps the axle-tree had broken? front door in order that I might be enabled to If so—and if it were the Count of Livorno who| return with the samé degree of caution. In 4 was coming to me—a few minutes would suflice to | few moments I was in the lane which, as I have bring him to the villa on foot. But no: a quarter | before said, separated the grounds of the villa from of an hour passed—no one came—and no tarther | the long skirting hedge of evergreens which bore sounds indicated any movement on the part of the | dered the cemetery. equipage. It was evident that this equipage| Notwithstanding the pitchy darkness of the had halted for some purpose:—and what could | night, I had no difficulty in finding the exact spot that purpose be? It was natural enough that, | whence diverged the hedge which separated the considering the state of my mind, I should be | compartment of the poor from that of the crimi- irresistibly led to connect every circumstance with | nal. I had sufficiently observed the arrangements myself, however vague and dim the actual reason | of the cemetery from my chamber-window to be might appear for such association. Neverthe- | aware that the point whence the hedge thus diverged less it wasso. I therefore remained at the win- | at right-angles with the hedge skirting the lane, dow, though I could see nothing beyond the glass- | was precisely opposite the side-gate opening from panes — yet with a strange and unaccountable | the carriage-drive of the villa-grounds. presentiment that by thus gazing in that direction With as much caution as possible I forced for I should see something that would lead to the | myself a passage through the hedge separating the gratitication of the deep suspenseful curiosity which ! lane from the cemetery; and then I found myself I experienced. | —according to my intention—in that compartment Upwards of a quarter of an hour had I thus | which was allotted to the poor. My eyes were been standing at that window, when I fancied that | now getting accustomed to the darkness; and I I beheld a light glimmering in the distance. It|could distinguish objects, though only dimly appeared to be moving about, though in a very } visible, through the deep obscurity. I hastened limited circumference; and at first I conjectured | along by the side of the diverging hedge which that it must be a will-o’-the-wisp. But if so, a; separated the pauper ground from the criminal second thought assured me that it would flit about | division of the cemetery; and as I drew nearer to with eccentric wanderings, and presently disappear | the spot where to the best of my conjecture I had altogether. 1t was not so in respeet to the light | seen the light, I advanced with all suitable caution. —— ee ee COMIC OOK<SsE©@ — Se ee eee