Uncle Silas J. Sheridan Le Fanu (good books to read for beginners .TXT) đ
- Author: J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Book online «Uncle Silas J. Sheridan Le Fanu (good books to read for beginners .TXT) đ». Author J. Sheridan Le Fanu
I was now sitting on the side of the bed, looking wistfully across the room. When I did not see Meg Hawkes, I beheld Madame darkly eyeing first one then another point of the chamber, evidently puzzling over some problem, and in one of her most savage moodsâ âsometimes muttering to herself, sometimes protruding, and sometimes screwing up her great mouth.
She went into her own room, where she remained, I think, nearly ten minutes, and on her return there was that in the flash of her eyes, the glow of her face, and the peculiar fragrance that surrounded her, that showed she had been partaking of her favourite restorative.
I had not moved since she left my room.
She paused about the middle of the floor, and looked at me with what I can only describe as her wild-beast stare.
âYou are a very secrete family, you Ruthynsâ âyou are so coning. I hate the coning people. By my faith, I weel see Mr. Silas Ruthyn, and ask wat he mean. I heard him tell old Wyat that Mr. Dudley is gone away tonight. He shall tell me everything, or else I weel make echec et mat aussi vrai que je vis.â
Madameâs words had hardly ceased, when I was again watching Meg Hawkes on the steep road, mounting, but never reaching, the top of the acclivity, on the way to Elverston, and mentally praying that she might be brought safely there. Vain prayer of an agonised heart! Megâs journey was already frustrated: she was not to reach Elverston in time.
Madame revisited her apartment, and returned, not, I think, improved in temper. She walked about the room, hustling the scanty furniture hither and thither as she encountered it. She kicked her empty box out of her way, with a horrid crash, and a curse in French. She strode and swaggered round the room, muttering all the way, and turning the corners of her course with a furious whisk. At last, out of the door she went. I think she fancied she had not been sufficiently taken into confidence as to what was intended for me.
It was now growing late, and yet no succour! I was seized, I remember, with a dreadful icy shivering.
I was listening for signals of deliverance. At ever distant sound, half stifled with a palpitation, these sounds piercing my ear with a horrible and exaggerated distinctnessâ ââOh Meg!â âOh cousin Monica!â âOh come! Oh Heaven, have mercy!â âLord, have mercy!â I thought I heard a roaring and jangle of voices. Perhaps it came from Uncle Silasâs room. It might be the tipsy violence of Madame. It mightâ âmerciful Heaven!â âbe the arrival of friends. I started to my feet; I listened, quivering with attention. Was it in my brain?â âwas it real? I was at the door, and it seemed to open of itself. Madame had forgotten to lock it; she was losing her head a little by this time. The key stood in the gallery door beyond; it too, was open. I fled wildly. There was a subsiding sound of voices in my uncleâs room. I was, I know not how, on the lobby at the great stairhead outside my uncleâs apartment. My hand was on the banisters, my foot on the first step, when below me and against the faint light that glimmered through the great window on the landing I saw a bulky human form ascending, and a voice said âHush!â I staggered back, and at that instant fancied, with a thrill of conviction, I heard Lady Knollysâs voice in Uncle Silasâ room.
I donât know how I entered the room; I was there like a ghost. I was frightened at my own state.
Lady Knollys was not thereâ âno one but Madame and my guardian.
I can never forget the look that Uncle Silas fixed on me as he cowered, seemingly as appalled as I.
I think I must have looked like a phantom newly risen from the grave.
âWhatâs that?â âwhere do you come from?â whispered he.
âDeath! death!â was my whispered answer, as I froze with terror where I stood.
âWhat does she mean?â âwhat does all this mean?â said Uncle Silas, recovering wonderfully, and turning with a withering sneer on Madame. âDo you think it right to disobey my plain directions, and let her run about the house at this hour?â
âDeath! death! Oh, pray to God for you and me!â I whispered in the same dreadful tones.
My uncle stared strangely at me again; and after several horrible seconds, in which he seemed to have recovered himself, he said, sternly and coollyâ â
âYou give too much place to your imagination, niece. Your spirits are in an odd stateâ âyou ought to have advice.â
âOh, uncle, pity me! Oh, uncle, you are good! youâre kind; youâre kind when you think. You could notâ âyou could notâ âcould not! Oh, think of your brother that was always so good to you! He sees me here. He sees us both. Oh, save me, uncleâ âsave me!â âand Iâll give up everything to you. Iâll pray to God to bless youâ âIâll never forget your goodness and mercy. But donât keep me in doubt. If Iâm to go, oh, for Godâs sake, shoot me now!â
âYou were always odd, niece; I begin to fear you are insane,â he replied, in the same stern icy tone.
âOh, uncleâ âoh!â âam I? Am I mad?â
âI hope not; but youâll conduct yourself like a sane person if you wish to enjoy the privileges of one.â
Then, with his finger pointing at me, he turned to Madame, and said, in a tone of suppressed ferocityâ â
âWhatâs the meaning of this?â âwhy is she here?â
Madame was gabbling volubly, but to me it was only a shrilly noise. My whole soul was concentrated in my uncle, the arbiter of my life, before whom I stood in the wildest agony of supplication.
That night was dreadful. The people I saw dizzily, made of smoke or shining vapour, smiling or frowning, I could have passed my hand through them. They were evil spirits.
âThereâs no ill intended you; by
Comments (0)