The Allen House; Or, Twenty Years Ago and Now — John Shaqi
The Allen House; Or, Twenty Years Ago and NowArthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay)
General
The Allen House; Or, Twenty Years Ago and Now
Arthur, T. S. (Timothy Shay)
American fiction -- 19th century; Conduct of life -- Fiction
How familiar the voice sounded! And yet I did not recognise it as
the voice of any one whom I had known, but rather as a voice heard in
dreams. Nor was the calm, dignified countenance on which my eyes rested,
strange in every lineament. The lady was, to all appearance, somewhere
in the neighborhood of sixty, and, for an elderly lady, handsome. I
thought of my remark to Constance about the beauty and deformity of age,
and said to myself, “Here is one who has not lived in vain.”
I arose as she spoke, and answered in the affirmative.
“You have come too late,” she said, with a touch of feeling in her
voice.
“Not dead?” I ejaculated.
“Yes, dead. Will you walk up stairs and see her?”
I followed in silence, ascending to the chamber which had been occupied
by Mrs. Allen since the old Captain's death. It was true as she had
said; a ghastly corpse was before me. I use the word ghastly, for it
fully expresses the ugliness of that lifeless face, withered, marred,
almost shorn of every true aspect of humanity. I laid my hand upon
her--the skin was cold. I felt for her pulse, but there was no sign of
motion in the arteries.
“It is over,” I said, lifting myself from my brief examination, “and
may God have mercy upon her soul!” The last part of the sentence was
involuntary.
“Amen!”
I felt that this response was no idle ejaculation.
“How was she affected?” I asked. “Has she been sick for any time? Or did
life go out suddenly?”
“It went out suddenly,” replied the lady--“as suddenly as a lamp in the
wind.”
“Was she excited from any cause?”
“She has been in an excited state ever since our arrival, although every
thing that lay in our power has been done to quiet her mind and give it
confidence and repose.”
She spoke calmly, as one, who held a controlling position there, and of
right. I looked into her serene face, almost classic in its outlines,
with an expression of blended inquiry and surprise, that it was evident
did not escape her observation, although she offered no explanation in
regard to herself.
I turned again to the corpse, and examined it with some care. There was
nothing in its appearance that gave me any clue to the cause which had
produced this sudden extinguishment of life.
“In what way was she excited?” I asked, looking at the stranger as I
stepped back from the couch on which the dead body was lying.
She returned my steady gaze, without answering, for some moments.
Either my tone or manner affected her unpleasantly, for I saw her brows
contract slightly, her full lips close upon themselves, and her eyes
acquire an intenser look.
“You have been her physician, I believe?” There was no sign of feeling
in the steady voice which made the inquiry.
“Yes.”
“_I_ need not, in that case, describe to you her unhappy state of
mind. _I_ need not tell you that an evil will had the mastery over her
understanding, and that, in the fierce struggle of evil passion with
evil passion, mind and body had lost their right adjustment.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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