the haunted hotel(闹鬼的旅馆)-第30章
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be of any use to you before I go to bed？'
'No； my dear； thank you； I feel sleepy enough to follow your example。
Good night； Agnesand pleasant dreams on your first night in Venice。'
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THE HAUNTED HOTEL A Mystery of Modern Venice
CHAPTER XXII
Having closed and secured the door on Lady Montbarry's departure；
Agnes put on her dressing…gown； and； turning to her open boxes； began
the business of unpacking。 In the hurry of making her toilet for dinner；
she had taken the first dress that lay uppermost in the trunk； and had
thrown her travelling costume on the bed。 She now opened the doors of
the wardrobe for the first time； and began to hang her dresses on the hooks
in the large compartment on one side。
After a few minutes only of this occupation； she grew weary of it； and
decided on leaving the trunks as they were； until the next morning。 The
oppressive south wind； which had blown throughout the day； still
prevailed at night。 The atmosphere of the room felt close； Agnes threw a
shawl over her head and shoulders； and； opening the window； stepped into
the balcony to look at the view。
The night was heavy and overcast： nothing could be distinctly seen。
The canal beneath the window looked like a black gulf； the opposite
houses were barely visible as a row of shadows； dimly relieved against the
starless and moonless sky。 At long intervals； the warning cry of a belated
gondolier was just audible； as he turned the corner of a distant canal； and
called to invisible boats which might be approaching him in the darkness。
Now and then； the nearer dip of an oar in the water told of the viewless
passage of other gondolas bringing guests back to the hotel。 Excepting
these rare sounds； the mysterious night…silence of Venice was literally the
silence of the grave。
Leaning on the parapet of the balcony； Agnes looked vacantly into the
black void beneath。 Her thoughts reverted to the miserable man who had
broken his pledged faith to her； and who had died in that house。 Some
change seemed to have come over her since her arrival in Venice； some
new influence appeared to be at work。 For the first time in her
experience of herself； compassion and regret were not the only emotions
aroused in her by the remembrance of the dead Montbarry。 A keen sense of
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the wrong that she had suffered； never yet felt by that gentle and forgiving
nature； was felt by it now。 She found herself thinking of the bygone days
of her humiliation almost as harshly as Henry Westwick had thought of
them she who had rebuked him the last time he had spoken slightingly of
his brother in her presence！ A sudden fear and doubt of herself； startled
her physically as well as morally。 She turned from the shadowy abyss of
the dark water as if the mystery and the gloom of it had been answerable
for the emotions which had taken her by surprise。 Abruptly closing the
window； she threw aside her shawl； and lit the candles on the mantelpiece；
impelled by a sudden craving for light in the solitude of her room。
The cheering brightness round her； contrasting with the black gloom
outside； restored her spirits。 She felt herself enjoying the light like a
child！
Would it be well （she asked herself） to get ready for bed？ No！ The
sense of drowsy fatigue that she had felt half an hour since was gone。 She
returned to the dull employment of unpacking her boxes。 After a few
minutes only； the occupation became irksome to her once more。 She sat
down by the table； and took up a guide…book。 'Suppose I inform myself；'
she thought； 'on the subject of Venice？'
Her attention wandered from the book； before she had turned the first
page of it。
The image of Henry Westwick was the presiding image in her memory
now。 Recalling the minutest incidents and details of the evening； she could
think of nothing which presented him under other than a favourable and
interesting aspect。 She smiled to herself softly； her colour rose by fine
gradations； as she felt the full luxury of dwelling on the perfect truth and
modesty of his devotion to her。 Was the depression of spirits from which
she had suffered so persistently on her travels attributable； by any chance；
to their long separation from each otherembittered perhaps by her own
vain regret when she remembered her harsh reception of him in Paris？
Suddenly conscious of this bold question； and of the self…abandonment
which it implied； she returned mechanically to her book； distrusting the
unrestrained liberty of her own thoughts。 What lurking temptations to
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forbidden tenderness find their hiding…places in a woman's dressing…gown；
when she is alone in her room at night！ With her heart in the tomb of the
dead Montbarry； could Agnes even think of another man； and think of love？
How shameful！ how unworthy of her！ For the second time； she tried to
interest herself in the guide…book and once more she tried in vain。
Throwing the book aside； she turned desperately to the one resource that
was left； to her luggageresolved to fatigue herself without mercy； until
she was weary enough and sleepy enough to find a safe refuge in bed。
For some little time； she persisted in the monotonous occupation of
transferring her clothes from her trunk to the wardrobe。 The large clock in
the hall； striking mid…night； reminded her that it was getting late。 She sat
down for a moment in an arm…chair by the bedside； to rest。
The silence in the house now caught her attention； and held it held it
disagreeably。 Was everybody in bed and asleep but herself？ Surely it was
time for her to follow the general example？ With a certain irritable
nervous haste； she rose again and undressed herself。 'I have lost two hours
of rest；' she thought； frowning at the reflection of herself in the glass； as
she arranged her hair for the night。 'I shall be good for nothing to…morrow！'
She lit the night…light； and extinguished the candles with one
exception； which she removed to a little table； placed on the side of the
bed opposite to the side occupied by the arm…chair。 Having put her
travelling…box of matches and the guide…book near the candle； in case she
might be sleepless and might want to read； she blew out the light； and laid
her head on the pillow。
The curtains of the bed were looped back to let the air pass freely over
her。 Lying on her left side； with her face turned away from the table； she
could see the arm…chair by the dim night…light。 It had a chintz covering
representing large bunches of roses scattered over a pale green ground。
She tried to weary herself into drowsiness by counting over and over again
the bunches of roses that were visible from her point of view。 Twice her
attention was distracted from the counting； by sounds outside by the
clock chiming the half…hour past twelve； and then again； by the fall of a
pair of boots on the upper floor； thrown out to be cleaned； with that
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barbarous disregard of the comfort of others which is observable in
humanity when it inhabits an hotel。 In the silence that followed these
passing disturbances； Agnes went on counting the roses on the arm…chair；
more and more slowly。 Before long； she confused herself in the figures
tried to begin counting again thought she would wait a little firstfelt her
eyelids drooping； and her head reclining lower and lower on the pillow
sighed faintly and sank into sleep。
How long that first sleep lasted； she never knew。 She could only
remember； in the after…time； that she woke instantly。
Every faculty and perception in her passed the boundary line between
insensibility and consciousness； so to speak； at a leap。 Without knowing
why； she sat up suddenly in the bed； listening for she knew not what。 Her
head was in a whirl； her heart beat furiously； without any assignable cause。
But one trivial event had happened during the interval while she had been
asleep。 The night…light had gone out； and the room； as a matter of course；
was in total darkness。
She felt for the match…box； and paused after finding it。 A vague sense
of confusion was still in her mind。 She was in no hurry to light the match。
The pause in the darkness was； for the moment； agreeable to her。
In the quieter flow of her thoughts during this interval； she could ask
herself the natural question：What cause had awakened her so suddenly；
and had so strangely shaken her nerves？ Had it been the influence of a
dream？ She had not dreamed at allor； to speak more correctly； she had
no waking remembrance of having dreamed。 The mystery was beyond
her fathoming： the darkness began to oppress her。 She struck the match
on the box； and lit her candle。
As the welcome light diffused itself over the room； she turned from the
table and looked towards the other side of the bed。
In the moment when she turned； the chill of a sudden terror gripped
her round the heart； as with the clasp of an icy hand。
She was not alone in her room！
Therein the chair at the bedsidethere； suddenly revealed under the
flow of light from the candle； was the figure of a woman； reclining。 Her
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head lay back over the chair。 Her face； turned up to the ceiling； had the
eyes closed； as if she was wrapped in a deep sleep。
The shock of the d
