The Romance of the Forest | Page 9

proceeded, Peter, who followed them,
struck a light, and they entered the ruins by the flame of sticks, which
he had collected. The partial gleams thrown across the fabric seemed to
make its desolation more solemn, while the obscurity of the greater part
of the pile heightened its sublimity, and led fancy on to scenes of horror.
Adeline, who had hitherto remained in silence, now uttered an
exclamation of mingled admiration and fear. A kind of pleasing dread
thrilled her bosom, and filled all her soul. Tears started into her eyes: Ñ
she wished, yet feared, to go on; Ñ she hung upon the arm of La Motte,
and looked at him with a sort of hesitating interrogation.
He opened the door of the great hall, and they entered: its extent was
lost in gloom. "Let us stay here," said Madame de la Motte, "I will go
no farther." La Motte pointed to the broken roof, and was proceeding,
when he was interrupted by an uncommon noise, which passed along
the hall. They were all silent Ñ it was the silence of terror. Madame La
Motte spoke first. "Let us quit this spot," said she, "any evil is
preferable to the feeling, which now oppresses me. Let us retire
instantly." The stillness had for some time remained undisturbed, and
La Motte, ashamed of the fear he had involuntarily betrayed, now
thought it necessary to affect a boldness, which he did not feel. He,
therefore, opposed ridicule to the terror of Madame, and insisted upon
proceeding. Thus compelled to acquiesce, she traversed the hall with
trembling steps. They came to a narrow passage, and Peter's sticks
being nearly exhausted, they awaited here, while he went in search of
more.

The almost expiring light flashed faintly upon the walls of the passage,
shewing the recess more horrible. Across the hall, the greater part of
which was concealed in shadow, the feeble ray spread a tremulous
gleam, exhibiting the chasm in the roof, while many nameless objects
were seen imperfectly through the dusk. Adeline with a smile, inquired
of La Motte, if he believed in spirits. The question was ill-timed, for the
present scene impressed its terrors upon La Motte, and, in spite of
endeavour, he felt a superstitious dread stealing upon him. He was now,
perhaps, standing over the ashes of the dead. If spirits were ever
permitted to revisit the earth, this seemed the hour and the place most
suitable for their appearance. La Motte remaining silent, Adeline said,
"Were I inclined to superstition" Ñ she was interrupted by a return of
the noise, which had been lately heard. It sounded down the passage, at
whose entrance they stood, and sunk gradually away. Every heart
palpitated, and they remained listening in silence. A new subject of
apprehension seized La Motte: Ñ the noise might proceed from banditti,
and he hesitated whether it would be safe to proceed. Peter now came
with the light: Madame refused to enter the passage Ñ La Motte was
not much inclined to it; but Peter, in whom curiosity was more
prevalent than fear, readily offered his services. La Motte, after some
hesitation, suffered him to go, while he awaited at the entrance the
result of the inquiry. The extent of the passage soon concealed Peter
from view, and the echoes of his footsteps were lost in a sound, which
rushed along the avenue, and became fainter and fainter, till it sunk into
silence. La Motte now called aloud to Peter, but no answer was
returned; at length, they heard the sound of a distant footstep, and Peter
soon after appeared, breathless, and pale with fear.
When he came within hearing of La Motte, he called out, "An please
your honour, I've done for them, I believe, but I've had a hard bout. I
thought I was fighting with the devil." Ñ "What are you speaking of?"
said La Motte.
"They were nothing but owls and rooks after all," continued Peter; "but
the light brought them all about my ears, and they made such a
confounded clapping with their wings, that I thought at first I had been
beset with a legion of devils. But I have drove them all out, master, and

you have nothing to fear now."
The latter part of the sentence, intimating a suspicion of his courage, La
Motte could have dispensed with, and, to retrieve in some degree his
reputation, he made a point of proceeding through the passage. They
now moved on with alacrity, for, as Peter said, they had "nothing to
fear."
The passage led into a large area, on one side of which, over a range of
cloisters, appeared the west tower, and a lofty part of the edifice; the
other side was open to the woods. La Motte led the