They proceeded, and, having reached the top of the stair-case, Dorothee
applied the key to the lock. 'Ah,' said she, as she endeavoured to turn
it, 'so many years have passed since this was opened, that I fear it
will not move.' Emily was more successful, and they presently entered a
spacious and ancient chamber.
'Alas!' exclaimed Dorothee, as she entered, 'the last time I passed
through this door--I followed my poor lady's corpse!'
Emily, struck with the circumstance, and affected by the dusky and
solemn air of the apartment, remained silent, and they passed on through
a long suite of rooms, till they came to one more spacious than the
rest, and rich in the remains of faded magnificence. 'Let us rest here awhile, madam,' said Dorothee faintly, 'we are going
into the chamber, where my lady died! that door opens into it. Ah,
ma'amselle! why did you persuade me to come?'
Emily drew one of the massy arm-chairs, with which the apartment was
furnished, and begged Dorothee would sit down, and try to compose her
spirits. 'How the sight of this place brings all that passed formerly to my
mind!' said Dorothee; 'it seems as if it was but yesterday since all
that sad affair happened!'
'Hark! what noise is that?' said Emily.
Dorothee, half starting from her chair, looked round the apartment, and
they listened--but, every thing remaining still, the old woman spoke
again upon the subject of her sorrow. 'This saloon, ma'amselle, was in
my lady's time the finest apartment in the chateau, and it was fitted
up according to her own taste. All this grand furniture, but you can
now hardly see what it is for the dust, and our light is none of the
best--ah! how I have seen this room lighted up in my lady's time!--all
this grand furniture came from Paris, and was made after the fashion of
some in the Louvre there, except those large glasses, and they came from
some outlandish place, and that rich tapestry. How the colours are faded
already!--since I saw it last!'
'I understood, that was twenty years ago,' observed Emily.
'Thereabout, madam,' said Dorothee, 'and well remembered, but all the
time between then and now seems as nothing. That tapestry used to be
greatly admired at, it tells the stories out of some famous book, or
other, but I have forgot the name.'
Emily now rose to examine the figures it exhibited, and discovered, by
verses in the Provencal tongue, wrought underneath each scene, that it
exhibited stories from some of the most celebrated ancient romances.