University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.

As soon as I arrived in sight of the front of the
house, my attention was excited by a light from the
window of my own chamber. No appearance
could be less explicable. A meeting was expected
with Carwin, but that he pre-occupied my chamber,
and had supplied himself with light, was not to
be believed. What motive could influence him to
adopt this conduct? Could I proceed until this
was explained? Perhaps, if I should proceed to a
distance in front, some one would be visible. A
sidelong but seeble beam from the window, fell
upon the piny copse which skirted the bank. As I
eyed it, it suddenly became mutable, and after flitting
to and fro, for a short time, it vanished. I turned
my eye again toward the window, and perceived
that the light was still there; but the change which
I had noticed was occasioned by a change in the
position of the lamp or candle within. Hence,
that some person was there was an unavoidable
inference.

I paused to deliberate on the propriety of advancing.
Might I not advance cautiously, and,
therefore, without danger? Might I not knock at
the door, or call, and be apprized of the nature of
my visitant before I entered? I approached and
listened at the door, but could hear nothing. I
knocked at first timidly, but afterwards with loudness.
My signals were unnoticed. I stepped back
and looked, but the light was no longer discernible.

Was it suddenly extinguished by a human agent?
What purpose but concealment was intended?
Why was the illumination produced, to be thus
suddenly brought to an end? And why, since some
one was there, had silence been observed?

These were questions, the solution of which may
be readily supposed to be entangled with danger.
Would not this danger, when measured by a woman's
fears, expand into gigantic dimensions?
Menaces of death; the stunning exertions of a
warning voice; the known and unknown attributes
of Carwin; our recent interview in this chamber;
the pre-appointment of a meeting at this place and
hour, all thronged into my memory. What was
to be done?

Courage is no definite or stedfast prińciple. Let
that man who shall purpose to assign motives to the
actions of another, blush at his folly and forbear.
Not more presumptuous would it be to attempt the
classification of all nature, and the scanning of supreme
intelligence. I gazed for a minute at the
window, and fixed my eyes, for a second minute, on
the ground. I drew forth from my pocket, and
opened, a penknife. This, said I, be my safe-guard
and avenger. The assailant shall perish, or myself
shall fall.

I had locked up the house in the morning, but had
the key of the kitchen door in my pocket. I, therefore,
determined to gain access behind. Thither I
hastened, unlocked and entered. All was lonely,
darksome, and waste. Familiar as I was with every
part of my dwelling, I easily found my way to a
closet, drew forth a taper, a flint, tinder, and steel,
and, in a moment as it were, gave myself the guidance
and protection of light.

What purpose did I meditate? Should I explore

my way to my chamber, and confront the being
who had dared to intrude into this recess, and had
laboured for concealment? By putting out the light
did he seek to hide himself, or mean only to circumvent
my incautious steps? Yet was it not more
probable that he desired my absence by thus encouraging
the supposition that the house was unoccupied?
I would see this man in spite of all impediments;
ere I died, I would see his face, and summon
him to penitence and retribution; no matter at what
cost an interview was purchased. Reputation and
life might be wrested from me by another, but my
rectitude and honor were in my own keeping, and
were safe.

I proceeded to the foot of the stairs. At such a
crisis my thoughts may be supposed at no liberty
to range; yet vague images rushed into my mind,
of the mysterious interposition which had been experienced
on the last night. My case, at present,
was not dissimilar; and, if my angel were not
weary of fruitless exertions to save, might not a
new warning be expected? Who could say whether
his silence were ascribable to the absence of
danger, or to his own absence?

In this state of mind, no wonder that a shivering
cold crept through my veins; that my pause was
prolonged; and, that a fearful glance was thrown
backward.

Alas! my heart droops, and my fingers are enervated;
my ideas are vivid, but my language is faint;
now know I what it is to entertain incommunicable
sentiments. The chain of subsequent incidents
is drawn through my mind, and being linked with
those which forewent, by turns rouse up agonies
and sink me into hopelessness.

Yet I will persist to the end. My narrative may

be invaded by inaccuracy and confusion; but if I
live no longer, I will, at least, live to complete it.
What but ambiguities, abruptnesses, and dark transitions,
can be expected from the historian who is,
at the same time, the sufferer of these disasters?

I have said that I cast a look behind. Some object
was expected to be seen, or why should I have
gazed in that direction? Two senses were at once
assailed. The same piercing exclamation of hold!
hold! was uttered within the same distance of my
ear. This it was that I heard. The airy undulation,
and the shock given to my nerves, were real.
Whether the spectacle which I beheld existed in
my fancy or without, might be doubted.

I had not closed the door of the apartment I had
just left. The stair-case, at the foot of which I
stood, was eight or ten feet from the door, and attached
to the wall through which the door led.
My view, therefore, was sidelong, and took in no
part of the room.

Through this aperture was an head thrust and
drawn back with so much swiftness, that the immediate
conviction was, that thus much of a form,
ordinarily invisible, had been unshrowded. The
face was turned towards me. Every muscle was
tense; the forehead and brows were drawn into
vehement expression; the lips were stretched as in
the act of shrieking, and the eyes emitted sparks,
which, no doubt, if I had been unattended by a
light, would have illuminated like the corruscations
of a meteor. The sound and the vision were present,
and departed together at the same instant; but
the cry was blown into my ear, while the face was
many paces distant.

This face was well suited to a being whose performances
exceeded the standard of humanity, and

yet its features were akin to those I had before seen.
The image of Carwin was blended in a thousand
ways with the stream of my thoughts. This visage
was, perhaps, pourtrayed by my fancy. If so, it
will excite no surprize that some of his lineaments
were now discovered. Yet affinities were few and
unconspicuous, and were lost amidst the blaze of
opposite qualities.

What conclusion could I form? Be the face
human or not, the intimation was imparted from
above. Experience had evinced the benignity of
that being who gave it. Once he had interposed
to shield me from harm, and subsequent events demonstrated
the usefulness of that interposition.
Now was I again warned to forbear. I was hurrying
to the verge of the same gulf, and the same
power was exerted to recall my steps. Was it possible
for me not to obey? Was I capable of holding
on in the same perilous career? Yes. Even
of this I was capable!

The intimation was imperfect: it gave no form
to my danger, and prescribed no limits to my caution.
I had formerly neglected it, and yet escaped.
Might I not trust to the same issue? This idea
might possess, though imperceptibly, some influence.
I persisted; but it was not merely on this account.
I cannot delineate the motives that led me on. I
now speak as if no remnant of doubt existed in my
mind as to the supernal origin of these sounds; but
this is owing to the imperfection of my language,
for I only mean that the belief was more permanent,
and visited more frequently my sober meditations
than its opposite. The immediate effects
served only to undermine the foundations of my
judgment and precipitate my resolutions.

I must either advance or return. I chose the

former, and began to ascend the stairs. The silence
underwent no second interruption. My chamber
door was closed, but unlocked, and, aided by vehement
efforts of my courage, I opened and looked
in.

No hideous or uncommon object was discernible.
The danger, indeed, might easily have lurked out
of sight, have sprung upon me as I entered, and
have rent me with his iron talons; but I was blind
to this fate, and advanced, though cautiously, into
the room.

Still every thing wore its accustomed aspect.
Neither lamp nor candle was to be found. Now,
for the first time, suspicions were suggested as to
the nature of the light which I had seen. Was it
possible to have been the companion of that supernatural
visage; a meteorous resulgence producible
at the will of him to whom that visage belonged,
and partaking of the nature of that which accompanied
my father's death?

The closet was near, and I remembered the complicated
horrors of which it had been productive.
Here, perhaps, was inclosed the source of my peril,
and the gratification of my curiosity. Should I
adventure once more to explore its recesses? This
was a resolution not easily formed. I was suspended
in thought: when glancing my eye on a
table, I perceived a written paper. Carwin's hand
was instantly recognized, and snatching up the paper,
I read as follows:—

“There was folly in expecting your compliance
with my invitation. Judge how I was disappointed
in finding another in your place. I have waited,
but to wait any longer would be perilous. I
shall still seek an interview, but it must be at a different
time and place: meanwhile, I will write this

—How will you bear—How inexplicable will be
this transaction!—An event so unexpected—a sight
so horrible!”

Such was this abrupt and unsatisfactory script.
The ink was yet moist, the hand was that of Carwin.
Hence it was to be inferred that he had this
moment left the apartment, or was still in it. I
looked back, on the sudden expectation of seeing
him behind me.

What other did he mean? What transaction
had taken place adverse to my expectations?
What sight was about to be exhibited? I looked
around me once more, but saw nothing which indicated
strangeness. Again I remembered the closet,
and was resolved to seek in that the solution of
these mysteries. Here, perhaps, was inclosed the
scene destined to awaken my horrors and baffle my
foresight.

I have already said, that the entrance into this
closet was beside my bed, which, on two sides,
was closely shrowded by curtains. On that side
nearest the closet, the curtain was raised. As I
passed along I cast my eye thither. I started, and
looked again. I bore a light in my hand, and
brought it nearer my eyes, in order to dispel any
illusive mists that might have hovered before them.
Once more I fixed my eyes upon the bed, in hope
that this more stedfast scrutiny would annihilate the
object which before seemed to be there.

This then was the sight which Carwin had predicted!
This was the event which my understanding
was to find inexplicable! This was the fate
which had been reserved for me, but which, by
some untoward chance, had befallen on another!

I had not been terrified by empty menaces. Violation
and death awaited my entrance into this

chamber. Some inscrutable chance had led her
hither before me, and the merciless fangs of which
I was designed to be the prey, had mistaken their
victim, and had fixed themselves in her heart. But
where was my safety? Was the mischief exhausted
or flown? The steps of the assassin had just been
here; they could not be far off; in a moment he
would rush into my presence, and I should perish
under the same polluting and suffocating grasp!

My frame shook, and my knees were unable to
support me. I gazed alternately at the closet door
and at the door of my room. At one of these
avenues would enter the exterminator of my honor
and my life. I was prepared for defence; but now
that danger was imminent, my means of defence,
and my power to use them were gone. I was not
qualified, by education and experience, to encounter
perils like these: or, perhaps, I was powerless
because I was again assaulted by surprize, and had
not fortified my mind by foresight and previous reflection
against a scene like this.

Fears for my own safety again yielded place to
reflections on the scene before me. I fixed my eyes
upon her countenance. My sister's well-known
and beloved features could not be concealed by
convulsion or lividness. What direful illusion led
thee hither? Berest of thee, what hold on happiness
remains to thy offspring and thy spouse? To
lose thee by a common fate would have been sufficiently
hard; but thus suddenly to perish—to become
the prey of this ghastly death! How will a
spectacle like this be endured by Wieland? To
die beneath his grasp would not satisfy thy enemy.
This was mercy to the evils which he previously
made thee suffer! After these evils death was a
boon which thou besoughtest him to grant. He

entertained no enmity against thee: I was the object
of his treason; but by some tremendous mistake
his fury was misplaced. But how comest thou
hither? and where was Wieland in thy hour of
distress?

I approached the corpse: I lifted the still flexible
hand, and kissed the lips which were breathless.
Her flowing drapery was discomposed. I restored
it to order, and seating myself on the bed, again
fixed stedfast eyes upon her countenance. I cannot
distinctly recollect the ruminations of that moment.
I saw consnsedly, but forcibly, that every
hope was extinguished with the life of Catharine.
All happiness and dignity must henceforth be banished
from the house and name of Wieland: all
that remained was to linger out in agonies a short
existence; and leave to the world a monument of
blasted hopes and changeable fortune. Pleyel was
already lost to me; yet, while Catharine lived life
was not a detestable possession: but now, severed
from the companion of my infancy, the partaker
of all my thoughts, my cares, and my wishes, I
was like one set afloat upon a stormy sea, and
hanging his safety upon a plank; night was closing
upon him, and an unexpected surge had torn
him from his hold and overwhelmed him forever.