The Complete Northanger Horrid Novel Collection (9 Books of Gothic Romance and Horror)

by Eliza Parsons

  She then proceeded to relate the conversation she had heard, relative to its being haunted, with her terror of the preceding night, and determination to explore every apartment in the castle. "I hope, madam," added Matilda, "the relation I have given, though tedious and little interesting to you, will apologize for my abrupt intrusion here." "Dearest madam," answered the Lady of the Castle, "can you think it possible I should be uninterested for a situation like yours? Young, new to the world, with uncommon attractions, without friends or protectors, surely misfortunes have taken an early hold in your destiny; but do not despair, my good young lady, Providence never forsakes the virtuous, but in its own good time will relieve us from every difficulty; an assurance of that truth has supported me under the bitterest calamities, and though I am at present dead to the world, I flatter myself I may be of some service to you, but do not think of quitting this castle yet; happy should I think myself if I could enjoy your society always, but 'tis a selfish wish and shall not be indulged, however our confidence ought to be reciprocal, and you shall know, in part, the peculiar distresses which have driven me to this asylum, though my confidence must be limited from restrictions I dare not break through." "I fear, madam," answered Matilda, "however eager my curiosity and anxiety may be awakened by your uncommon situation, I must for the present postpone the gratification of it; my long absense will, I am sure, cause much trouble to my hospitable entertainers, and therefore 'tis time I should return." "Well then," said the lady "when may I hope to see you again?" "After dinner madam, I will attend you." "I shall think every minute an hour till then replied the lady. They parted with mutual regret. Matilda carefully shut the doors, and returned to Bertha's apartments, with a lighter heart and a dawn of hope.

  On her entrance into the kitchen the good creature clasped her hands and shouted for joy; "O good God be thanked," said she, "that I see you once again; my dear lady, where have you been and what have you seen?" "An excellent library of books," replied Matilda. "And did you see no ghosts, nor hear no noises?" "I saw no ghosts, but I certainly did hear noises." "Lord have mercy upon us! and so, had you courage to stay?" "Yes, I stayed to view the apartments, but I was a little frightened I must confess." "O, dear heart, but I hope you won't go again indeed I shall," said Matilda, "I intend to sit there very often, and shall borrow some books to bring home with me." "O, madam, don't be so hardy, who knows what mischief may come of it one day," "I have no fears, good Bertha; if we perform our duties towards God and man, Providence will always preserve us from evil." Ah! Lord, madam, you talk so good; I am sure I never did hurt to any body, nor Joseph neither, and when no company comes here we be as quiet as lambs, and yet methinks I do wish for folks sometimes, because you know 'tis very lonely - but will you have your bed made below stairs to night?" "No," replied Matilda, "I will sleep in the same room, I have no apprehensions at all now." Bertha wondered at the lady's courage, but said nothing.

  Albert had before this requested to sleep below, for as they were ghosts of quality, who never condescended to visit kitchens, he thought himself perfectly safe, on the ground floor.

  When dinner was over, Matilda said she should go to the library and fetch some books. Bertha looked quite woe begone, but was silent: not so Albert, who had been informed of the perilous adventure his young mistress had undergone in the morning; he besought her, with tears in his eyes, not to trust herself again in the haunted rooms. "If any harm betides you, madam, I shall be a poor miserable fellow for the short remnant of my days." "Be not uneasy, my friend Albert, no ghosts can hurt me; 'tis the living only I fear, not the dead; assure yourself I shall return in perfect safety."

  Saying this she went up stairs, leaving Bertha and Albert under great consternation. "Well, the Lord love her," said the former, "she must be a pure good creature to have so much courage - I hope no harm will come on't." "I hope so too," cried Albert, wiping his eyes. "She is the best sweetest tempered young lady that ever lived; - ah! I little thought to have seen such a day as this for her."

  Whilst these two worthy creatures were expatiating upon her praise, Matilda pursued her way to the Lady of the Castle, who was expecting her with impatience, and warmly embraced her upon her entrance. "How mortifying the reflection," said the lady, leading her visitant to a chair, "that the unexpected happiness I enjoy must be purchased so dearly as by your peace of mind; what delight should I feel in your society, if distress and misfortune had not driven you here!" "Believe me, madam," answered Matilda, "your presence and conversation has greatly alleviated those sorrows which oppress my heart; and if my company should be productive of pleasure to you, I shall feel much less regret for the causes which compelled me to seek this castle as an asylum for an unhappy orphan, though but a temporary one only." "Ah! my dear young lady," replied the other, "you are but young in the school of affliction; you can look forward with hope, you can feel only for yourself, and, God forbid, you should ever know the sorrows of a wife and mother, who knows not but that she is childless and cut off for ever from those endearing ties." "O, madam," cried Matilda, interrupting her, "forgive me that I have revived such terrible images to your mind; let not my curiosity occasion such painful ideas, at least we will enjoy the present hour with mutual satisfaction, and defer your painful recital "till another day." "Charming girl," said the lady, "I accept the delay you offer me, and am happy that I can assure you of an asylum whenever you grow tired of this castle. I have a sister in France, married to the Marquis de Melfort, she is one of the best of women; she is no stranger to my situation and has repeatedly wished me to come into the world and reside with her, but I have powerful reasons for refusing, though she is the dearest friend I have on earth, and I am certain will rejoice to offer you an accommodation in her house, and a place in her heart, as she has no children to engage her attention." Matilda made the warmest acknowledgements for this kind offer, but said, unaccustomed as she was to the busy world, she was apprehensive Paris would be the last place she ought to reside in, particularly as her uncle might go there, having property and friends in that city, and she might run the hazard of being discovered.

  Whilst she was speaking, the lady's attendant entered with a letter, "Joseph has just brought this, my lady." "Joseph!" repeated Matilda, involuntarily "Yes," said the lady, smiling, "your friend Joseph is my friend also; this letter is from my sister - but bid our old friend step in." Joseph entered but started back with surprise when he beheld Matilda seated quietly in the room, - "Good Lord!" cried he "how came young madam here?" "This lady's courage, you see, has penetrated through our secret and now we have no occasion for any reserve before her, she will as carefully guard it from your wife as you do." "Lord! I am sure," answered Joseph, "it goes to my heart to keep any thing from poor Bertha, she is such a good creature, but women's tongues will blab sometimes, to be sure, and as I have sworn to your ladyship, God forbid I should break my oath, though often and often I have longed to tell my wife." "However, Joseph," said the lady, gravely, "I depend upon your honesty and oath." "You have nothing to fear, my lady, eighteen years practice has learnt me to hold my tongue; have you any further commands?" The lady replying in the negative, he made his bow and retired.

  "That man is a faithful good creature, I owe my life to him; I know nothing of his wife, though I am told she is a worthy woman; but as a secret should never, if possible, be trusted to chance or accident, I made him swear not to reveal mine, without permission from me." Matilda expressed her satisfaction that the lady had such a faithful servant, and taking a book from the table, requested she would open her letter.

  This being complied with, she presently exclaimed, "Alas! my brother and sister are going within a month to England, perhaps to stay some time; yet why should I grieve at that, they cannot come to me." Then reading on, she again cried out, "My dear Miss Weimar, if you will accept of my sister's protection, it is now at your service: hear what she says, after expressing her regret that I cannot be of her party, "I wish I could meet with some amiable female compa
nion, to take the tour of England with me, there are so few of one's acquaintance that are desirable as intimate friends, that nothing can be more difficult than to obtain such a one as I am anxious to have: young ones we cannot meet with, and I cannot bear the idea of being plagued with the ridiculous fopperies of an old coquet; for I am not yet so much of a French woman as to think there is no difference in ages, and that a fine dressed and high coloured lady, though near to her grand climacteric, shall be indulged in all the expectations of youth and beauty."

  "Now, my dear Miss, you are exactly the lady that will suit my sister; it is not proper, at your age that you should be buried here, otherwise it would be the greatest felicity in the world for me to enjoy your conversation." "I certainly, madam," answered Matilda, "should think myself most fortunate in attending the Marchioness but indeed my finances are so slender, and the necessaries I have are so trifling that I am unable to take a journey of consequence. When I left my uncle's house I was so entirely ignorant of travelling expenses, that I conceived I had plenty of money to last a considerable time, but I find myself much mistaken; my little stock is considerably diminished, and I must try, by my industry, soon to support poor Albert as well as myself." "I am happy," returned the lady, "that I can obviate some of your objections. I have a large store of linen I never can wear in this place; I have a good deal of money by me, for I do not spend half the income allowed me; you must - you shall do me the favour to accept my little assistance, as from a mother to her child, I will not be denied." "Your goodness, madam," said Matilda, "overpowers me, but, alas! poor Albert, I cannot forsake him." "Nor shall you, my dear young lady; a faithful servant like him is an acquisition to any family: my sister, I am persuaded, will rejoice to receive him; tell me, therefore, you accept of my proposal, and I will write instantly: we shall then know when it will be absolutely necessary you should join her, that I may not be too soon deprived of the pleasure I now enjoy. I shall leave it to yourself to acquaint her, or not, as you please, with your story, 'tis sufficient I recommend you as a friend of mine." Matilda could form no objection to this kind offer in her desperate circumstances and whilst she amused herself with a book, the lady wrote her letter, and having read it previous to its delivery to Joseph, her young friend expressed her warmest acknowledgements for the favourable manner in which she was mentioned in it. This business settled, the lady took her into the next apartment, the windows of which were also closed. "This room," said she, "opens into the garden, where I walk occasionally of an evening, when not liable to observation. In these drawers, my dear Miss, there are plenty of necessaries all at your service; to-morrow we will examine them." "I cannot find language, madam, to express my gratitude." "Do not attempt it, be assured your acceptance of my little assistance is a sufficient return for what you consider as an obligation. But pray tell me how you came to venture visiting these apartments, which are generally believed to be haunted?" "As I never had my mind occupied by any ideas of ghosts," answered Matilda, "and could not conceive any actions of my life had subjected me to the terror of supernatural visitations, I believed there must be some other cause for the appearance of lights which I traced in the windows above, and for the noise I heard in the night, though I confess the latter did terrify me; I resolved therefore to visit these rooms, although I was told in one of them there was blood on the floor and horrid inscriptions on the windows." "Your information was true," answered the lady, with a sigh she could not suppress, "it is the room above which answers the description you have heard; another day, when I have related my melancholy story, you shall see it. I am much pleased with your courage, which proceeded from a right principle: when the mind is conscious of no evil actions, nor any deviations from rectitude, there is no cause for fear or apprehensions in a thinking sensible person, and I hope, my dear Miss Weimar, you will never want resolution on similar occasions; judge always for yourself, and never be guided by the opinions of weak minds." "You are very good, madam," replied Matilda, "in favouring me with your approbation; I shall think myself particularly fortunate if you will condescend to instruct me, for it is with shame I confess, more attention has been paid to external accomplishments than to the cultivation of my mind, or any information respecting those principles of virtue a young woman ought early to be acquainted with." "You are truly good and amiable," said the lady; "born with sentiments of virtue, and natural understanding pointed out the right path to happiness, pursue it through life, ever remember it is better to suffer from the follies or vices of others than to feel self-condemnation from a sense of your own: the one, time and patience may subdue, or at least blunt the sharp edge that wounds you; but, for the other there is no consolation, self reproach admits no healing balm, that can enable us to stem the torrent of oppression, or the evils which arise from our own misconduct. You will pardon the freedom you have invited, my good young lady; when you know my story, you will find I am qualified to speak on the subject from very painful lessons, which I pray heaven you may ever be a stranger to." She now took her hand and led her to the other room, where refreshments and pleasing conversation made the two hours Matilda passed there the most pleasing she had ever known. When she took leave they parted with regret, and proposed meeting at an early hour the following day; when the lady promised to relate the events that had compelled her to a seclusion from the world, and the motives which induced her to alarm every stranger that came to the castle.

  Matilda stepped into the library, and selecting two or three books, returned to her friendly hostess, whose surprise and pleasure seemed equally gratified by seeing her in safety. Joseph came in soon after; he looked with increased respect and kindness, but was entirely silent as to their meeting in the lady's apartment. When the hour of retiring came, Matilda repaired to her room with great cheerfulness, and when Albert, with tears, entreated her to sleep below, she replied, "You may, my good Albert, if you chuse; but I shall sleep perfectly quiet above stairs; be under no apprehensions for me," added she, smiling, "I am no longer a stranger, and have not the smallest apprehensions of being molested this night." She took up her candle and left them. "Well," cried Bertha, "the Lord be good unto her, for sure she is the best and most courageous lady I ever saw in my life; I believe it would kill me if any harm was to happen to such a sweet creature."

  All now retired to rest, and Albert thought himself quite safe on the ground floor from the quality ghosts. In the morning they met with great satisfaction; every one eagerly demanded of Matilda if she had slept undisturbed she assured them she had, and was greatly refreshed. This account pleased them all. Albert went out to assist Joseph in the garden; and his mistress was preparing to visit her friend, when Jaqueline made her appearance from the kitchen with Bertha. Matilda was extremely glad to see the good woman, enquired after Pierre, and thanked her for the good accommodations she had procured for her in the castle. "Dear me," said Jaqueline, "you cannot think how glad I am to see you, my lady; I was a-coming yesterday, but I was busy washing, and, Lord help me, this morning before day I was afrightened out of my wits, for I heard some horses galloping by the door, and I thought I heard this lady screaming most piteously; so, says I, dear heart, Pierre, I am afraid some mischief has happened to young madam, so I"ll be sure to go to the castle when I have hung out my clothes; so Pierre he went to fell wood, and I made all haste here, and glad to my heart I am to see you all safe." Matilda thanked the friendly woman for her attention, and after a little chat left the two gossips together, and hastened to the lady, telling them she was going to sit in the library. She crossed the apartment and descended the stairs, saw the lady's room open, and walked in; no one was there, but a great appearance of disorder in the room, one of the stools thrown down, a candle on the floor, another burning on the table, and several things scattered about: she was surprised - she knocked, she called, she had no answer. Terrified beyond expression, she ventured into the other room, where the bed was; it was empty, but had the appearance of being laid on; a little cabinet, which stood on the d
rawers, was open and emptied of its contents. She returned; she went through the several rooms that were open, all were desolate; she once more went back to the ground floor. The candle was nearly extinguished, she took up and lighted the other, and, on looking round, she saw the door that opened from the bed-room into the garden was ajar, and on trial it opened; she then readily conceived the lady must have been carried away through the garden, but by whom it was impossible to guess; robbers would never have incommoded themselves with females. She came in and was about to shut the garden door, when she thought the sound of footsteps reached her ears- - she trembled and stopped, presently a door, the opposite side of the bed, opened, and Joseph appeared: she was overjoyed - he looked surprised; "O, Joseph," cried she, "what is become of your lady?" Astonished at the question, the poor fellow repeated her words, and added, "Good Lord, madam, has not your ladyship seen her?" "No," replied she; "I have searched every room in vain, and found this garden door open." "O, she is carried off then," cried he, "and we are all undone - O, my dear, dear lady, you are betrayed at last." Tears burst from his aged eyes; Matilda sunk into a chair, overcome with sorrow, "But," said she, when able to speak, "how could any one enter, there is no door forced?" "Yes, madam, there is," answered Joseph, "I found the kitchen door burst off its hinges, and came in trembling for fear of what had happened." "From whence could any one come into the kitchen?" "Why, madam, there is a private passage underground, from the garden to the under apartments, which is unknown to every body, as I thought, but to the lady and myself; but it must be discovered by somebody, and we are all undone. Hasten, madam, out of this place, I will fasten up the doors and follow you." "Joseph." said Matilda, "can you meet me in the garden by and bye, I wish to speak with you." "Directly after dinner, madam, I will wait upon your ladyship; I will look about a little, I think no one will come here in the open day." Matilda retired, with trembling limbs and a beating heart, to her own apartment; here she ruminated on what had happened to her friend so recently gained, and so irrecoverably lost - "Alas! poor lady," said she, "who knows what evils she may have to encounter with; a stranger as I am to her story, I have no clue to guide me who may have carried her off, or by whom the cruel action was committed; doubtless it must have been her cries that alarmed Jaqueline - What will become of me? How are all my flattering prospects vanished?" With these bitter reflections she passed the hours "till dinner time came; she then went down, but with a countenance so altered, that Bertha started back and cried out, "O, for a certain young madam has seen something and been frightened!" Albert looked with anxious curiosity, "Be not uneasy, my good friends," said she: I assure you neither ghosts nor noises have terrified me, but I am not very well; after dinner perhaps I may be better," "Heaven send it," cried Bertha. Albert joined in the wish and Matilda, affected by their kindness, went into the parlour, where her dinner was served up, not in state or profusion indeed, but good wild fowls, eggs, salads, and fruit. She waited impatiently until she thought Joseph had nearly dined, and then walked towards the garden; in a little time Joseph joined her, and walking before, conducted her to a distant part of it, where a small arbour in a shrubbery appeared almost choked with weeds; he led her into it, she sat down - "Now, Joseph, for heaven's sake, tell me every thing about the dear lady." "That I cannot do," replied Joseph shaking his head: "my oath will not permit me; but underneath this stone," said he, stamping his foot, "is an underground passage, one end of which goes to that part of the castle, and opens into a private place behind the kitchen; the other end goes through to the end of the wood, I believe, for I never had courage to go so far on, but this morning, when I went down the passage, and came round, I found both doors forced off their hinges below, and was much afraid to come up, where I found you, madam: who it is that has been so wicked, I can only guess, and Lord have mercy on the poor lady, I fear no good will come to her." "But how come the garden door open; could they convey her through that into the road?" "Yes," replied Joseph, "that was the way, for after you went up stairs I went into the garden, and the great gate, at the end, was unbolted just at the end of the wood, and I do suppose they had horses waiting there, or a carriage. The few jewels my poor lady had is taken from her little chest, but there are no locks broke on the drawers, and her pockets are left behind, on a stool, with every thing in them; "twas no robbers, my lady, I fear." "I fear so too," answered Matilda, with a deep sigh; "I dread that she is fallen into worse hands - " "Into worse than I fear has got her," said Joseph, "she cannot be fallen - Lord how I rejoiced she had got your ladyship with her." "Aye, Joseph," resumed Matilda, "I grieve for her and feel my own loss; - Do you know her sister the Marchioness?" "I saw her once after my lady was married; they say she is very happy - God help us, "twasn't so here." "Your lady has wrote to the Marchioness relative to me; did not you take a letter yesterday?" "Yes, my lady, and if there be any answer to it I shall be sure to have it, and you may open it, you know, because the good lady never wrote to any one else." Poor Matilda knew not what to do; she was desirous of staying "till this answer arrived. She was anxious to explore those apartments that were locked, and after some hesitation asked Joseph if he would meet her there, to morrow morning. "Aye, sure, that I will," returned he, "and as I left the lamps burning in the passage, if you like, I will go down this way with you now." "No," said she, "not now; I will meet you to-morrow in the library, and we may return this way, for I own I should like to see it, though 'tis plain the passage must be known."