Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. VI, November 1850, Vol. IVarious
History
Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. VI, November 1850, Vol. I
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; Civilization -- Periodicals; Culture -- Periodicals
Forgetting the sermon he had begun, the old man therefore thus went on:
"All, except Macdonald, were soon in bed. We had, however, only half
undressed. As for Macdonald, he drew a stool toward the fire, and,
seating himself, buried his face in his hands, as if in thought. I
almost immediately fell asleep, and must have slept for some time, for
when I awoke the fire was out. But I did not awaken of myself; it was
Macdonald who aroused me. He did the same to the others. He had thrown
himself on his bed, and spoke in a whisper, which, however, as our heads
were close together, was audible to all. 'Brothers,' said he, 'listen;
but for your lives make no noise, and, above all, do not speak. From the
first moment we arrived at this house, I feared that all was not right;
now I am sure of it. It seemed odd to me that two solitary women should
inhabit so large a house; that the girl should have been so ready, or
rather so anxious to receive us; that she should have shown no fear of
six young men, all strangers to her; and I said to myself, 'She and her
grandmother do not live here alone; she depends upon aid, if aid be
necessary, and that aid is not far off.' Again, I am used to read the
character in the countenance, and, despite her beauty, if ever treachery
was marked on the human face, it is on hers. Then why make us all sleep
in one room? If the others are empty, our beds would be as well on the
floor in them as in this one. However, all that was mere suspicion. But
there is more. You saw me examine the windows during supper. I could
then open the outside shutters; they have since been fastened; and, what
is more, the door is locked or barred on us, and will not yield. But,
what is most important, my ear, which is very quick, caught the sound of
steps in the passage--heavy steps, though taken on tiptoe--steps, in
short, of a man, or rather, I should say of men, for there were at least
two. I stole to the door, and I distinctly heard whisperings. Now, what
do you think of all that? Speak one at a time, and low.'--'Bah!'
whispered the Frenchman, 'I think nothing of it. It is quite common to
fasten the shutters outside; and, as for the door, your friend and I
were rather free with the girl last night, and she may have locked us in
for her own security, or she might be afraid of our decamping in the
morning without paying the reckoning. As for the footsteps, I doubt if
you can distinguish a man's from a woman's; and the whisperings were
probably the girl and the old woman conversing. Their voices, coming
along the passage, would sound like whisperings.' This explanation was
so plausible, that all expressed themselves satisfied with it. But
Macdonald resumed, and this time he spoke in a whisper so terrible--so
full of mysterious power, that it went straight to every heart, and
curdled all our blood. 'Brothers,' he said, 'be wise in time. If you
will not listen to common sense, take warning of a supernatural sense.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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