Adeline retired early to her room, which
adjoined on one side to Madame La Motte's,
and on the other to the closet formerly mentioned.
It was spacious and lofty, and what little
furniture it contained was falling to decay;
but, perhaps, the present tone of her spirits
might contribute more than these circumstances
to give that air of melancholy which seemed
to reign in it. She was unwilling to go to
bed, lest the dreams that had lately pursued
her should return; and determined to sit
up till she found herself oppressed by sleep,
when it was probable her rest would be profound.
She placed the light on a small table, and,
taking a book, continued to read for above
an hour, till her mind refused any longer
to abstract itself from its own cares, and
she sat for some time leaning pensively on
her arm.
The wind was high, and as it whistled through
the desolate apartment, and shook the feeble
doors, she often started, and sometimes even
thought she heard sighs between the pauses
of the gust; but she checked these illusions,
which the hour of the night and her own melancholy
imagination conspired to raise. As she sat
musing, her eyes fixed on the opposite wall,
she perceived the arras, with which the room
was hung, wave backwards and forwards; she
continued to observe it for some minutes,
and then rose to examine it farther. It was
moved by the wind; and she blushed at the
momentary fear it had excited: but she observed
that the tapestry was more strongly agitated
in one particular place than elsewhere, and
a noise that seemed something more than that
of the wind issued thence. The old bedstead,
which La Motte had found in this apartment,
had been removed to accommodate Adeline,
and it was behind the place where this had
stood that the wind seemed to rush with particular
force: curiosity prompted her to examine
still farther; she felt about the tapestry,
and perceiving the wall behind shake under
her hand, she lifted the arras, and discovered
a small door, whose loosened hinges admitted
the wind, and occasioned the noise she had
heard.
The door was held only by a bolt, having
undrawn which, and brought the light, she
descended by a few steps into another chamber:
she instantly remembered her dreams. The
chamber was not much like that in which she
had seen the dying Chevalier, and afterwards
the bier; but it gave her a confused remembrance
of one through which she had passed. Holding
up the light to examine it more fully, she
was convinced by its structure that it was
part of the ancient foundation. A shattered
casement, placed high from the floor, seemed
to be the only opening to admit light. She
observed a door on the opposite side of the
apartment; and after some moments of hesitation,
gained courage, and determined to pursue
the inquiry. "A mystery seems to hang
over these chambers," said she, "which
it is, perhaps, my lot to develope; I will,
at least, see to what that door leads."
She stepped forward, and having unclosed
it, proceeded with faltering steps along
a suite of apartments resembling the first
in style and condition, and terminating in
one exactly like that where her dream had
represented the dying person; the remembrance
struck so forcibly upon her imagination that
she was in danger of fainting; and looking
round the room, almost expected to see the
phantom of her dream.
Unable to quit the place, she sat down on
some old lumber to recover herself, while
her spirits were nearly overcome by a superstitious
dread, such as she had never felt before.
She wondered to what part of the abbey these
chambers belonged, and that they had so long
escaped detection. The casements were all
too high to afford any information from without.
When she was sufficiently composed to consider
the direction of the rooms, and the situation
of the abbey, there appeared not a doubt
that they formed an interior part of the
original building.
As these reflections passed over her mind,
a sudden gleam of moonlight fell upon some
object without the casement. Being now sufficiently
composed to wish to pursue the inquiry, and
believing this object might afford her some
means of learning the situation of these
rooms, she combated her remaining terrors,
and, in order to distinguish it more clearly,
removed the light to an outer chamber; but
before she could return, a heavy cloud was
driven over the face of the moon, and all
without was perfectly dark: she stood for
some moments waiting a returning gleam, but
the obscurity continued. As she went softly
back for the light, her foot stumbled over
something on the floor, and while she stooped
to examine it, the moon again shone, so that
she could distinguish, through the casement,
the eastern towers of the abbey. This discovery
confirmed her former conjectures concerning
the interior situation of these apartments.
The obscurity of the place prevented her
discovering what it was that had impeded
her steps, but having brought the light forward,
she perceived on the floor an old dagger:
with a trembling hand she took it up, and
upon a closer view perceived that it was
spotted and stained with rust.
Shocked and surprised, she looked round
the room for some object that might confirm
or destroy the dreadful suspicion which now
rushed upon her mind; but she saw only a
great chair, with broken arms, that stood
in one corner of the room, and a table in
a condition equally shattered, except that
in another part lay a confused heap of things,
which appeared to be old lumber. She went
up to it, and perceived a broken bedstead,
with some decayed remnants of furniture,
covered with dust and cobwebs, and which
seemed, indeed, as if they had not been moved
for many years. Desirous, however, of examining
farther, she attempted to raise what appeared
to have been part of the bedstead, but it
slipped from her hand, and, rolling to the
floor, brought with it some of the remaining
lumber. Adeline started aside and saved herself,
and when the noise it made had ceased, she
heard a small rustling sound, and as she
was about to leave the chamber, saw something
falling gently among the lumber.
It was a small roll of paper, tied with
a string, and covered with dust. Adeline
took it up, and on opening it perceived an
handwriting. She attempted to read it, but
the part of the manuscript she looked at
was so much obliterated that she found this
difficult, though what few words were legible
impressed her with curiosity and terror,
and induced her to return immediately to
her chamber.