Jacintha opened the door of the haunted room with a trembling hand: She
ventured to peep in; But the wealth of India would not have tempted her
to cross the threshold. She gave the Taper to the Monk, wished him well
through the adventure, and hastened to be gone. Ambrosio entered. He
bolted the door, placed the light upon the Table, and seated himself in
the Chair which on the former night had sustained Antonia. In spite of
Matilda’s assurances that the Spectre was a mere creation of fancy, his
mind was impressed with a certain mysterious horror. He in vain
endeavoured to shake it off. The silence of the night, the story of the
Apparition, the chamber wainscotted with dark oak pannells, the
recollection which it brought with it of the murdered Elvira, and his
incertitude respecting the nature of the drops given by him to Antonia,
made him feel uneasy at his present situation. But He thought much less
of the Spectre, than of the poison. Should He have destroyed the only
object which rendered life dear to him; Should the Ghost’s prediction
prove true; Should Antonia in three days be no more, and He the
wretched cause of her death ...... The supposition was too horrible to
dwell upon. He drove away these dreadful images, and as often they
presented themselves again before him. Matilda had assured him that the
effects of the Opiate would be speedy. He listened with fear, yet with
eagerness, expecting to hear some disturbance in the adjoining chamber.
All was still silent. He concluded that the drops had not begun to
operate. Great was the stake, for which He now played: A moment would
suffice to decide upon his misery or happiness. Matilda had taught him
the means of ascertaining that life was not extinct for ever: Upon this
assay depended all his hopes. With every instant his impatience
redoubled; His terrors grew more lively, his anxiety more awake. Unable
to bear this state of incertitude, He endeavoured to divert it by
substituting the thoughts of Others to his own. The Books, as was
before mentioned, were ranged upon shelves near the Table: This stood
exactly opposite to the Bed, which was placed in an Alcove near the
Closet door. Ambrosio took down a Volume, and seated himself by the
Table: But his attention wandered from the Pages before him. Antonia’s
image and that of the murdered Elvira persisted to force themselves
before his imagination. Still He continued to read, though his eyes ran
over the characters without his mind being conscious of their import.
Such was his occupation, when He fancied that He heard a footstep. He
turned his head, but nobody was to be seen.
He resumed his Book; But in a few minutes after the same sound was
repeated, and followed by a rustling noise close behind him. He now
started from his seat, and looking round him, perceived the Closet door
standing half-unclosed. On his first entering the room He had tried to
open it, but found it bolted on the inside.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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