Part 2 (2/2)
In this new aspect I examined it. It was the least like one that could be imagined. It was a lofty, s.p.a.cious, cheerful, double-bedded room, with four large windows--two on the east and two on the west side--with a fireplace in the south wall, and the heads of the beds, at some distance apart, against the north wall. Between the two east windows was a pretty dressing-table and gla.s.s; between the west windows was a neat washstand with a china service; on each side of the fireplace were two s.p.a.cious clothes closets; before the fire sat two easy-chairs; in intermediate s.p.a.ces around the walls were half a dozen other chairs.
I examined the clothes closets, and found them entirely empty, and at the service of my dresses; then I looked under the bed; then beneath the drapery of the dressing-table; and finding nothing that should not be there, undressed myself, said my prayers, blew out my candle, and went to bed.
I could not sleep; my mind, my nerves, had for some reason become unusually excited; and, despite of extreme fatigue, I lay awake. I thought the room was too light; for, though the candle was extinguished, a glowing fire burned upon the hearth, a few yards from the foot of my bed, and the light of the now risen moon streamed into the east windows.
After turning from side to side, vainly wooing slumber, I arose and went to close the east front windows. As I reached them with this purpose, I stayed my hand a moment, while I looked out at the snow-clad, moon-lit mountain landscape; below me was the bottom, bounded, not many furlongs off, by the cedar-grown precipice, down which, that very evening, I had come; under the shelter of that mountain, straight in the line of my vision, lay the family graveyard of the former owner, in a copse of evergreens, where the spectral-looking tombstones gleamed whitely among the dark firs and cedars. Meditating upon those departed, I closed the blinds of the front windows, and then went to the back ones.
The latter looked straight down into the uncurtained windows of the lighted dining-room, where the young people were still at play. Above these windows, and directly opposite to mine, were those of Mrs.
Legare's bedroom, now dimly lighted from the fire within.
With this proximity of the family, I felt less lonely, closed my blinds, and returned to bed.
Still I could not sleep. The fire on the hearth, beyond my bed's foot, flickered up and down, casting tall, spectral shadows, that danced upon the walls, or stretched their long arms over the ceiling. For hours I lay watching this phantasmagoria, until the fire died down, and the tall, dancing shadows sank into a ma.s.s of darkness, before sleep came to my wearied senses. But scarcely had I closed my eyes upon the natural world before a strange vision, or dream, if you prefer to call it so, pa.s.sed before me. Methought I heard the click of a turning key; I opened my eyes, and saw the door slowly swing back upon its hinges, and a lady of dark, majestic beauty, dressed in deep mourning, and having a pale and care-worn face, enter the chamber! Slowly and silently she walked to and fro, her footfall waking no echo--her progress attended by no sound, save the slight rustle of her silken robe! I was magnetized to watch her, as with clasped hands and wide-open, mournful eyes, she walked in silent, measured steps up and down the room. At length she paused in the middle of the floor, fixed her eyes upon mine with a wild and mournful gaze, slowly raised one hand from the breast upon which both had been tightly clasped, and with her spectral finger extended downward, pointed to the spot beneath her feet, and then as slowly resumed her former att.i.tude, and pa.s.sed with measured steps from the room!
I tried to speak to her, to question her, but failed to utter a sound.
In an agony of distress I tried to call out, and in the effort to do so awoke! awoke to find that I had been dreaming.
But, reader! the door that I had locked so carefully the night before, was standing wide open, as when the dark woman of my dream had pa.s.sed through it!
Day was dawning. I s.h.i.+vered, both from superst.i.tious excitement, and from the cool draught of air blowing upon me from the open door. I drew the cover closely around me and listened; but no sounds except the undefined, low, pleasant murmur of awakening nature--the soft rustle of the pines in the up-springing morning breeze, the flutter of the night birds waking up in their branches, and the detonating echo of distant, louder noises were heard. I arose softly and opened the east window blinds, and then went back to bed to lie and watch the crimson light of morning kindling up the orient.
An hour I lay thus, watching the dawn growing brighter and brighter unto the perfect day. And then I heard a key turned in the hall door, and some one come in and ascend the stairs. It was the little black maid Jet, come to make my fire. As she entered I saw her eyes grow wild, and she inquired:
”Miss Agnes, is yer been up, miss, to open dis yer door?”
”I have been up this morning, Jet,” said I, not wis.h.i.+ng to let her into my full confidence. The answer seemed to set her at rest, for her countenance lost its wild terror, and she proceeded with cheerful alacrity to light the fire, fill the ewers and so forth.
Before she had got through with her task, there was a rush of many feet into the hall, and up the stairs, and Mathilde and such of her young friends as were already up and dressed, bounded into the room, exclaiming:
”A merry Christmas! A merry Christmas, Agnes!”
Their arrival was enough to put to flight all the supernatural visitants that Hades ever sent forth. They hurried me with my toilet; they worried me to come down and see the Christmas tree, and get some eggnog.
I was carried away with their gay excitement, and almost forgot my mysterious dream or visitant, but not quite; for all through the morning greetings of the family, the eggnog drinking, the visit to the Christmas tree, the distributions of presents, the merry breakfast, the arrival of invited guests, the Christmas dinner party, the afternoon sports, and the evening dance, I was possessed with the haunting presence of that dark, handsome woman, and her majestic woe.
We danced in the dining-room through all the Christmas night; and it was two o'clock in the morning before we separated.
Again, when I was about to retire, Mrs. Legare came to accompany me.
”I hope you rested well last night, my dear Agnes, though I have scarcely had an opportunity of asking you to-day,” she said, as we entered my room.
”I did not wake until dawn, ma'am,” I answered, evasively, for I had determined, since they let me into no confidence upon the subject of the household mystery, to keep my own counsel in regard to my dream and the open door.
”You slept until dawn. That is well. I hope you will have as good a rest for the few remaining hours of the night. Good-evening, my dear. Lock your door after me,” said Mrs. Legare, going out with a look of relief and satisfaction.
As upon the evening previous, I turned the key upon my retiring hostess, listened until I heard her pa.s.s out and secure the hall door, then searched my room, undressed, said my prayers, and went to bed.
As I hinted in the beginning of this narrative, nature had made me at once superst.i.tious and fearless. In the supernatural I ”believed without trembling.” And now alone, in this supposed-to-be haunted chamber, I lay with an interest devoid of uneasiness, waiting the development of events.
<script>