Her surprise, on hearing such soothing and delicious sounds, was, at
least, justifiable; for it was long--very long, since she had listened
to any thing like melody. The fierce trumpet and the shrill fife were
the only instruments she had heard, since her arrival at Udolpho.
When her mind was somewhat more composed, she tried to ascertain from
what quarter the sounds proceeded, and thought they came from below; but
whether from a room of the castle, or from the terrace, she could not
with certainty judge. Fear and surprise now yielded to the enchantment
of a strain, that floated on the silent night, with the most soft
and melancholy sweetness. Suddenly, it seemed removed to a distance,
trembled faintly, and then entirely ceased.
She continued to listen, sunk in that pleasing repose, which soft music
leaves on the mind--but it came no more. Upon this strange circumstance
her thoughts were long engaged, for strange it certainly was to hear
music at midnight, when every inhabitant of the castle had long since
retired to rest, and in a place, where nothing like harmony had been
heard before, probably, for many years. Long-suffering had made her
spirits peculiarly sensible to terror, and liable to be affected by the
illusions of superstition.--
It now seemed to her, as if her dead father
had spoken to her in that strain, to inspire her with comfort and
confidence, on the subject, which had then occupied her mind. Yet reason
told her, that this was a wild conjecture, and she was inclined to
dismiss it; but, with the inconsistency so natural, when imagination
guides the thoughts, she then wavered towards a belief as wild. She
remembered the singular event, connected with the castle, which had
given it into the possession of its present owner; and, when she
considered the mysterious manner, in which its late possessor had
disappeared, and that she had never since been heard of, her mind was
impressed with an high degree of solemn awe; so that, though there
appeared no clue to connect that event with the late music, she was
inclined fancifully to think they had some relation to each other. At
this conjecture, a sudden chillness ran through her frame; she looked
fearfully upon the duskiness of her chamber, and the dead silence, that
prevailed there, heightened to her fancy its gloomy aspect.
At length, she left the casement, but her steps faltered, as she
approached the bed, and she stopped and looked round. The single lamp,
that burned in her spacious chamber, was expiring; for a moment, she
shrunk from the darkness beyond; and then, ashamed of the weakness,
which, however, she could not wholly conquer, went forward to the bed,
where her mind did not soon know the soothings of sleep. She still mused
on the late occurrence, and looked with anxiety to the next night, when,
at the same hour, she determined to watch whether the music returned.
'If those sounds were human,' said she, 'I shall probably hear them
again.'