Now it is the time of night,
That, the graves all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his spite,
In the church-way path to glide.
SHAKESPEARE
On the next night, about the same hour as before, Dorothee came to
Emily's chamber, with the keys of that suite of rooms, which had been
particularly appropriated to the late Marchioness. These extended along
the north side of the chateau, forming part of the old building; and, as
Emily's room was in the south, they had to pass over a great extent
of the castle, and by the chambers of several of the family, whose
observations Dorothee was anxious to avoid, since it might excite
enquiry, and raise reports, such as would displease the Count.
She, therefore, requested, that Emily would wait half an hour, before they
ventured forth, that they might be certain all the servants were gone
to bed. It was nearly one, before the chateau was perfectly still, or
Dorothee thought it prudent to leave the chamber. In this interval, her
spirits seemed to be greatly affected by the remembrance of past events,
and by the prospect of entering again upon places, where these had
occurred, and in which she had not been for so many years. Emily too was
affected, but her feelings had more of solemnity, and less of fear.
From the silence, into which reflection and expectation had thrown them,
they, at length, roused themselves, and left the chamber. Dorothee, at
first, carried the lamp, but her hand trembled so much with infirmity
and alarm, that Emily took it from her, and offered her arm, to support
her feeble steps.
They had to descend the great stair-case, and, after passing over a
wide extent of the chateau, to ascend another, which led to the suite
of rooms they were in quest of. They stepped cautiously along the open
corridor, that ran round the great hall, and into which the chambers
of the Count, Countess, and the Lady Blanche, opened, and, from
thence, descending the chief stair-case, they crossed the hall itself.
Proceeding through the servants hall, where the dying embers of a wood
fire still glimmered on the hearth, and the supper table was surrounded
by chairs, that obstructed their passage, they came to the foot of the
back stair-case. Old Dorothee here paused, and looked around; 'Let us
listen,' said she, 'if any thing is stirring; Ma'amselle, do you hear
any voice?' 'None,' said Emily, 'there certainly is no person up in the
chateau, besides ourselves.'--'No, ma'amselle,' said Dorothee, 'but I
have never been here at this hour before, and, after what I know,
my fears are not wonderful.'--'What do you know?' said Emily.--'O,
ma'amselle, we have no time for talking now; let us go on. That door on
the left is the one we must open.'