A Sicilian Romance | Page 4

flourishes,--the
sensibilities expand--and wit, guided by delicacy and embellished by
taste--points to the heart.
Such was the conversation of Madame de Menon; and the pleasant
gaiety of the pavilion seemed peculiarly to adapt it for the scene of
social delights. On the evening of a very sultry day, having supped in
their favorite spot, the coolness of the hour, and the beauty of the night,

tempted this happy party to remain there later than usual. Returning
home, they were surprised by the appearance of a light through the
broken window-shutters of an apartment, belonging to a division of the
castle which had for many years been shut up. They stopped to observe
it, when it suddenly disappeared, and was seen no more. Madame de
Menon, disturbed at this phaenomenon, hastened into the castle, with a
view of enquiring into the cause of it, when she was met in the north
hall by Vincent. She related to him what she had seen, and ordered an
immediate search to be made for the keys of those apartments. She
apprehended that some person had penetrated that part of the edifice
with an intention of plunder; and, disdaining a paltry fear where her
duty was concerned, she summoned the servants of the castle, with an
intention of accompanying them thither. Vincent smiled at her
apprehensions, and imputed what she had seen to an illusion, which the
solemnity of the hour had impressed upon her fancy. Madame, however,
persevered in her purpose; and, after along and repeated search, a
massey key, covered with rust, was produced. She then proceeded to
the southern side of the edifice, accompanied by Vincent, and followed
by the servants, who were agitated with impatient wonder. The key was
applied to an iron gate, which opened into a court that separated this
division from the other parts of the castle. They entered this court,
which was overgrown with grass and weeds, and ascended some steps
that led to a large door, which they vainly endeavoured to open. All the
different keys of the castle were applied to the lock, without effect, and
they were at length compelled to quit the place, without having either
satisfied their curiosity, or quieted their fears. Everything, however,
was still, and the light did not reappear. Madame concealed her
apprehensions, and the family retired to rest.
This circumstance dwelt on the mind of Madame de Menon, and it was
some time before she ventured again to spend an evening in the
pavilion. After several months passed, without further disturbance or
discovery, another occurrence renewed the alarm. Julia had one night
remained in her closet later than usual. A favorite book had engaged
her attention beyond the hour of customary repose, and every inhabitant
of the castle, except herself, had long been lost in sleep. She was roused
from her forgetfulness, by the sound of the castle clock, which struck

one. Surprised at the lateness of the hour, she rose in haste, and was
moving to her chamber, when the beauty of the night attracted her to
the window. She opened it; and observing a fine effect of moonlight
upon the dark woods, leaned forwards. In that situation she had not
long remained, when she perceived a light faintly flash through a
casement in the uninhabited part of the castle. A sudden tremor seized
her, and she with difficulty supported herself. In a few moments it
disappeared, and soon after a figure, bearing a lamp, proceeded from an
obscure door belonging to the south tower; and stealing along the
outside of the castle walls, turned round the southern angle, by which it
was afterwards hid from the view. Astonished and terrified at what she
had seen, she hurried to the apartment of Madame de Menon, and
related the circumstance. The servants were immediately roused, and
the alarm became general. Madame arose and descended into the north
hall, where the domestics were already assembled. No one could be
found of courage sufficient to enter into the courts; and the orders of
madame were disregarded, when opposed to the effects of superstitious
terror. She perceived that Vincent was absent, but as she was ordering
him to be called, he entered the hall. Surprised to find the family thus
assembled, he was told the occasion. He immediately ordered a party of
the servants to attend him round the castle walls; and with some
reluctance, and more fear, they obeyed him. They all returned to the
hall, without having witnessed any extraordinary appearance; but
though their fears were not confirmed, they were by no means
dissipated. The appearance of a light in a part of the castle which had
for several years been shut up, and to which time and circumstance had
given an air of singular desolation, might reasonably be supposed to