The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 188: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. it, a view of the door, the bed, and the cupboards. Poor girl! with her substantial terrors lest her per- secutor should obtain admittance into her chamber, were blended her superstitious fears lest that shape with its pale, sorrowful -face should again appear before her! - She reclined in the large arm-chair,—the eandle, which stood upon the chest of drawers, showing forth every object in the room. We need not any farther attempt to analyze the reflections which en- gaged her mind: suffice it to say that she sat think- ing—dismally, drearily thinking—until the clock of the village-church struck eleven, and soon after- wards she fell into a doze. She slept for about an hour, when she slowly wakened up as the clock was proclaiming the hour of midnight. But it was not an immediate and sudden awaking as on the pre- vious night: it was the gradual arousing from the lethargy of slumber, with a heaviness upon the eyes and a cloudy confusion of the brain. > For a moment she scarcely recollected where she was: but as consciousness became more distinct, she opened her eyes wider. The candle was still a-light, but burning dimly—for the flame seemed to be struggling around an immense length of wick. It was asort of mystic gloom rather than a clear light which filled the chamber ; for the night without was starless 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 recognized 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 freeze in her veins—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 approach :—it was a tall gaunt figure, thin and lank, wrapped around with a dark garment resembling a dressing-gown, and confined at the waist by a string or cord. But the countenance— Oh! the countenance which gazed upon her—surely it did indeed belong unto 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 ¢are; and the expression of the face was that of solemn sadness—a deep and mournful gravity—yet fixed and rigid as the look of the dead ever ls. 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 appeared to move—ond then so overpowering was _the consternation which lay like a weight of lead upon the unhappy girl, that she fell back insen- sible. When she awoke again the candle was still burn- ing; and no 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. Strengthened by her devotions, she rouse; and SKK ET SA Sse W723 trimming the candle, made it give forth a 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 sat 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 seen was with her eyes wide open in full wakefulness, and not with her mental visiou and in the depth of slumber. The only question that remained therefore was to decide whether it was an apparition from another world, or a mortal denizen of this? Henrietta dared not think the former—yet scarcely knew how to believe the latter. For, admitting the last named hypo- thesis, how could the individual possibly have ob- tained ingress to her chamber? wherefore had he affected the solemn gravity of a ghost? why had he come to frighten her instead of speaking to her? Could it be a trick on the part of Lord Everton and his myrmidons in order to enfeeble her mind, shatter her energies, and reduce her to a state in which she might the more easily become the vile nobleman’s victim? No: not for a single instant could it be held probable that this was the solution of the mystery; for completely in Lord Everton’s power as she was, such trickery was alto- gether unnecessary. In short, she knew not what to think or which conjecture tv adopt as the mos¢ rational. As she sat in the arm-chair giving way to her re- flections, sleep gradually stole upon her; and at length she fell into a profound slumber. When she opened her eyes again it was 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 still as far off as ever from discovering any solution for the mystery. She was ill through not having taken her proper night’s rest—her spirits were deeply 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 ablutions, Henrietta issued forth from her chamber, and found the drawing and dining rooms just as she had left them over-night. She removed the chair and table from the outer door; and soon afterwards Susan made her appearance with the breakfast things. The tea was most welcome to Henrietta: but she had no appetite for substantial food. Having partaken of the beverage, she opened one of the windows and wooed the breeze to her throbbing brows and heated cheeks. Then she longed to descend into the garden and walk amidst the parterres of flowers, or in the shrubbery at the end. She was about to express her wish to the ser- vant—for she really felt as if the monotony of those rooms would drive her mad—but she checked her- self with the reilection that by doing so she would be giving some evidence of a gradual reconcilement to her captive state. But then she thought again, that if she could obtain a view of the back part of CORNICLOO 5) (CO)