These paroxysms of apparent lunacy were so frightful,that during their continuance even his oldest and most-faithful domestics dared not approach him;consequently,his hours of agony were never intruded upon,and the mysterious causes of his sufferings appeared likely to remain hidden for ever.
On one occasion a fit of this kind continued for an unusual time,the ordinary term of their duration--about two days--had been long past,and the old servant who generally waited upon Sir Robert after these visitations,having in vain listened for the well-known tinkle of his master's hand-bell,began to feel extremely anxious;he feared that his master might have died from sheer exhaustion,or perhaps put an end to his own existence during his miserable depression.These fears at length became so strong,that having in vain urged some of his brother servants to accompany him,he determined to go up alone,and himself see whether any accident had befallen Sir Robert.
He traversed the several passages which conducted from the new to the more ancient parts of the mansion,and having arrived in the old hall of the castle,the utter silence of the hour,for it was very late in the night,the idea of the nature of the enterprise in which he was engaging himself,a sensation of remoteness from anything like human companionship,but,more than all,the vivid but undefined anticipation of something horrible,came upon him with such oppressive weight that he hesitated as to whether he should proceed.Real uneasiness,however,respecting the fate of his master,for whom he felt that kind of attachment which the force of habitual intercourse not unfrequently engenders respecting objects not in themselves amiable,and also a latent unwillingness to expose his weakness to the ridicule of his fellow-servants,combined to overcome his reluctance;and he had just placed his foot upon the first step of the staircase which conducted to his master's chamber,when his attention was arrested by a low but distinct knocking at the hall-door.
Not,perhaps,very sorry at finding thus an excuse even for deferring his intended expedition,he placed the candle upon a stone block which lay in the hall,and approached the door,uncertain whether his ears had not deceived him.This doubt was justified by the circumstance that the hall entrance had been for nearly fifty years disused as a mode of ingress to the castle.
The situation of this gate also,which we have endeavoured to describe,opening upon a narrow ledge of rock which overhangs a perilous cliff,rendered it at all times,but particularly at night,a dangerous entrance.This shelving platform of rock,which formed the only avenue to the door,was divided,as I have already stated,by a broad chasm,the planks across which had long disappeared by decay or otherwise,so that it seemed at least highly im-probable that any man could have found his way across the passage in safety to the door,more particularly on a night like that,of singular darkness.The old man,therefore,listened attentively,to ascertain whether the first application should be followed by another.He had not long to wait;the same low but singularly distinct knocking was repeated;so low that it seemed as if the applicant had employed no harder or heavier instrument than his hand,and yet,despite the immense thickness of the door,with such strength that the sound was distinctly audible.
The knock was repeated a third time,without any increase of loudness;and the old man,obeying an impulse for which to his dying hour he could never account,proceeded to remove,one by one,the three great oaken bars which secured the door.Time and damp had effectually corroded the iron chambers of the lock,so that it afforded little resistance.With some effort,as he believed,assisted from without,the old servant succeeded in opening the door;and a low,square-built figure,apparently that of a man wrapped in a large black cloak,entered the hall.The servant could not see much of this visitant with any distinctness;his dress appeared foreign,the skirt of his ample cloak was thrown over one shoulder;he wore a large felt hat,with a very heavy leaf,from under which escaped what appeared to be a mass of long sooty-black hair;his feet were cased in heavy riding-boots.Such were the few particulars which the servant had time and light to observe.The stranger desired him to let his master know instantly that a friend had come,by appointment,to settle some business with him.The servant hesitated,but a slight motion on the part of his visitor,as if to possess himself of the candle,determined him;so,taking it in his hand,he ascended the castle stairs,leaving his guest in the hall.
On reaching the apartment which opened upon the oak-chamber he was surprised to observe the door of that room partly open,and the room itself lit up.He paused,but there was no sound;he looked in,and saw Sir Robert,his head and the upper part of his body reclining on a table,upon which burned a lamp;his arms were stretched forward on either side,and perfectly motionless;it appeared that,having been sitting at the table,he had thus sunk forward,either dead or in a swoon.There was no sound of breathing;all was silent,except the sharp ticking of a watch,which lay beside the lamp.The servant coughed twice or thrice,but with no effect;his fears now almost amounted to certainty,and he was approaching the table on which his master partly lay,to satisfy himself of his death,when Sir Robert slowly raised his head,and throwing himself back in his chair,fixed his eyes in a ghastly and uncertain gaze upon his attendant.At length he said,slowly and painfully,as if he dreaded the answer:
'In God's name,what are you?"
'Sir,'said the servant,'a strange gentleman wants to see you below.'
