As Emily leaned on the window, gazing with a kind of thrilling awe
upon the obscurity beneath, and then upon the cloudless arch above,
enlightened only by the stars, Dorothee, in a low voice, resumed her
narrative. 'I was saying, ma'amselle, that I well remember when first I heard that
music. It was one night, soon after my lady's death, that I had sat up
later than usual, and I don't know how it was, but I had been thinking
a great deal about my poor mistress, and of the sad scene I had lately
witnessed.
The chateau was quite still, and I was in the chamber at a
good distance from the rest of the servants, and this, with the mournful
things I had been thinking of, I suppose, made me low spirited, for I
felt very lonely and forlorn, as it were, and listened often, wishing to
hear a sound in the chateau, for you know, ma'amselle, when one can hear
people moving, one does not so much mind, about one's fears. But all the
servants were gone to bed, and I sat, thinking and thinking, till I was
almost afraid to look round the room, and my poor lady's countenance
often came to my mind, such as I had seen her when she was dying, and,
once or twice, I almost thought I saw her before me,--when suddenly I
heard such sweet music! It seemed just at my window, and I shall never
forget what I felt. I had not power to move from my chair, but then,
when I thought it was my dear lady's voice, the tears came to my eyes.
I had often heard her sing, in her life-time, and to be sure she had a
very fine voice; it had made me cry to hear her, many a time, when she
has sat in her oriel, of an evening, playing upon her lute such sad
songs, and singing so. O! it went to one's heart! I have listened in
the anti-chamber, for the hour together, and she would sometimes sit
playing, with the window open, when it was summer time, till it was
quite dark, and when I have gone in, to shut it, she has hardly seemed
to know what hour it was. But, as I said, madam,' continued Dorothee,
'when first I heard the music, that came just now, I thought it was my
late lady's, and I have often thought so again, when I have heard it, as
I have done at intervals, ever since. Sometimes, many months have gone
by, but still it has returned.' 'It is extraordinary,' observed Emily, 'that no person has yet
discovered the musician.'