The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 184: what you’re looking at

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

THE MSSTERTES OF THE COURT. 173 « "it a view of the door, the bed, and the cupboards. Poor girl! with her substantial terrors lest her per- eecutor should obtain admittance into her chamber, were blended ber superstitious fears lest that shape with its pale, sorrowful face should again appear before her ! She reclined in the large arm-chair,—the candle, which stood upon the chest of drawers, showing forth every object in the room. We need not any farther attempt to analyse the reflections which en- gaged her mind: suffice it to say that sho eat think- ing—dismally, drearily thinking—until the clock of the village-church struck eleven, and soon after- wards che fell into a dose. She slept for about an _ bour, when she slowly wakened up as the clock was the hour of midnight. But it was not an immediate and sudden awaking ason the pre- vious night: it was the gradual arousing from the lethargy of slumber, with a heavinces upon the eyes and a cloudy confasion of the brain. Vor a moment she scarcely recollected where she was: but as conscmusness became more distinct, she opened her cyes wider. Tho candle was still a-light, but burning dimly—for the flame seemed to be struggting around an immense length of wick. It was a sort of mystic gloom rather than a clear light which filled the chamber ; for the night without was etarices and clouded. Gradually a cold tremor came upon Henrietta as she thought she beheld some- thing standing in the deep shade of the curtains at the foot of the bed. Wildly she strained her eyes at the same instant that something moved: it came forward—and now, to her indescribable horror, she recognised that same shape she had seen on the previous night ! Again did she endeavour to cry out—and again was the power of utterance choked. Every limb grew rigid—the blood appeared to freese in her veine—every function of life stood still And yet her mind had a horrible clearness; and her eyes too faithfully fulfilled the power of vision. She beheld that shape approsch :—it was a tall gaunt figure, thin and lank, wrapped around with a dark garment tesembling a dreasing-gown, and confined at the waist by a string or cord. But the countenance— Oh! the countenance which gazed upon her—esurely it did indeed belong anto the dead! No tint of vital colouring had it—but colourless and corpse- like was it. The eyes were fixed upon her with a glassy - tare; and the expression of the face was thet of solemn sadness—a deep and mournful gravity—yet fixed and rigid as the look of the dead ever is. This shape advanced to within a few feet of where Henrietta, half-leaning forward in awful horror, sat gazing upon it. Slowly it raised its hand—its lips eppesred to move—and then so overpowering was the consternation which lay like a weight of lead upon the unbeppy girl, that she fell back insen- When she awoke again the candle was still burn- ing; and mo one was there. The shape, whatever it were, had disappeared: Henrietta was alone. For some minutes she sat utterly unable to move, and pondering awfully and solemnly upon what had taken place. Then, obedient to an impulse which suddenly prompted her, she fell upon her knees and breathed a prayer invoking heaven's protection. Girengthened by her devotions, she rose; and | COE emeses erat, ve eee ee — ee 6 ei er eee ole et 2 a ~ . trinnning the candle, made it give forth « clear light.” She no longer felt any excitement in her mind, but a deep and solemn awe sitting upon her soul: nor was she even frightened now. She knew that she had done no harm—her conscience was pure—and if the grave really gave up its dead, surely it could not be to do her an injury? Taking up the candle, she carefully examined the room: but everything was precisely in the same order as ere she had fallen asleep. She eat down again, and reflected in a de- liberate manner—without nervousness, without ex- citement. That this recurrence of the mysterious visitation was no dream, she felt convinced: she knew that what she had geen was with her cycs wide open in full wakefainess, and not with her menta] vision and in the depth of slumber. The only question that remained therefuro was to decide whether it was an apparition from another world, or a mortal denizen of this? Henriette dared not think the former—yet scarcely knew how to believe the latter. Wor, admitting the last named hypo- thesis, how could the individual possibly have ob- wherefore had he state in which she saigt ihe more easily become the vile nobleman’s victim? No: not for a single instant could it be held probable that thie was the solution of the mystery; for completely in Lord Everton's power as she was, such trickery was alto- gether unnecessary. In short, ehe knew not what to think or which conjecture tc adopt as the mos? rational. As che sat in the arm-chair giving way to her re- flections, sleep gradually stole upom her; and at length she fell into a profound slumber. When she opened her eyes again it wae broad daylight, and the sun was shining. She began to revolve in her mind the transaction of the past night; and though she still remained convinced that it was not a dream, she was etill as far off as ever from discovering any eclution for the mystery. She was ill through not having taken her proper night’s rest—her spirits were degply despondent—and she felt that two or three more days and nights passed in the same manner would throw her altogether upon a sick bed. Somewhat refreshed however by her eblutions, Henrietta issued forth from her chamber, and found the drawing and dining roouis just as che had left them over-night. She remdved the chair and table from the outer door; and secon afterwards Susan made her appearance with the breakfast things. The tea was most weléome to Henrietta: but she had no appetite for substantial food. Having partaken of the beverage, she opened one of the windows and wooed the breese to her throbbing brows and heated choeks. Then she longed to desdend into the garden and walk amidst the parterres of flowers, or. in the shrubbery at the end. She wag about to express her wish to the sor- vant—for she really felt as if the monotony of those veoms would drive her mad—but she checked her- self with the reflection that by doing so she would be giving some evidence of a gradual reconcilement to her captive state. But then she thought ayain, that if she could obtain a view of the baek pars uf =! ee ee 6 lt COMME MOO FL]