A Sicilian Romance by Ann Radcliffe (read this if .TXT) 📕

the great door of the south fabric. Here they met with some difficulty, for the lock, which had not been turned for many years, was rusted.

During this interval, the silence of expectation sealed the lips of all present. At length the lock yielded. That door which had not been passed for so many years, creaked heavily upon its hinges, and disclosed the hall of black marble which Ferdinand had formerly crossed. “Now,” cried the marquis, in a tone of irony as he entered, “expect to encounter the ghosts of which you tell me; but if you fail to conquer them, prepare to quit my service. The people who live with me shall at least have courage and ability sufficient to defend me from these spiritual attacks. All I apprehend is, that the enemy will not appear, and in this case your valour will go untried.”

No one dared to answer, but all followed, in silent fear, the marquis, who ascended the great staircase, and entered the gallery. “Unlock that door,” said he, pointing to one on the left, “and we will soon unhouse these ghosts.” Robert applied the key, but his hand shook so violently that he could not turn it. “Here is a fellow,” cried the marquis, “fit to encounter a whole legion of spirits. Do you, Anthony, take the key, and try your valour.”

“Please you, my lord,” replied Anthony, “I never was a good one at unlocking a door in my life, but here is Gregory will do it.”⁠—“No, my lord, an’ please you,” said Gregory, “here is Richard.”⁠—“Stand off,” said the marquis, “I will shame your cowardice, and do it myself.”

Saying this he turned the key, and was rushing on, but the door refused to yield; it shook under his hands, and seemed as if partially held by some person on the other side. The marquis was surprised, and made several efforts to move it, without effect. He then ordered his servants to burst it open, but, shrinking back with one accord, they cried, “For God’s sake, my lord, go no farther; we are satisfied here are no ghosts, only let us get back.”

“It is now then my turn to be satisfied,” replied the marquis, “and till I am, not one of you shall stir. Open me that door.”⁠—“My lord!”⁠—“Nay,” said the marquis, assuming a look of stern authority⁠—“dispute not my commands. I am not to be trifled with.”

They now stepped forward, and applied their strength to the door, when a loud and sudden noise burst from within, and resounded through the hollow chambers! The men started back in affright, and were rushing headlong down the staircase, when the voice of the marquis arrested their flight. They returned, with hearts palpitating with terror. “Observe what I say,” said the marquis, “and behave like men. Yonder door,” pointing to one at some distance, “will lead us through other rooms to this chamber⁠—unlock it therefore, for I will know the cause of these sounds.” Shocked at this determination, the servants again supplicated the marquis to go no farther; and to be obeyed, he was obliged to exert all his authority. The door was opened, and discovered a long narrow passage, into which they descended by a few steps. It led to a gallery that terminated in a back staircase, where several doors appeared, one of which the marquis unclosed. A spacious chamber appeared beyond, whose walls, decayed and discoloured by the damps, exhibited a melancholy proof of desertion.

They passed on through a long suite of lofty and noble apartments, which were in the same ruinous condition. At length they came to the chamber whence the noise had issued. “Go first, Robert, with the light,” said the marquis, as they approached the door; “this is the key.” Robert trembled⁠—but obeyed, and the other servants followed in silence. They stopped a moment at the door to listen, but all was still within. The door was opened, and disclosed a large vaulted chamber, nearly resembling those they had passed, and on looking round, they discovered at once the cause of the alarm.⁠—A part of the decayed roof was fallen in, and the stones and rubbish of the ruin falling against the gallery door, obstructed the passage. It was evident, too, whence the noise which occasioned their terror had arisen; the loose stones which were piled against the door being shook by the effort made to open it, had given way, and rolled to the floor.

After surveying the place, they returned to the back stairs, which they descended, and having pursued the several windings of a long passage, found themselves again in the marble hall. “Now,” said the marquis, “what think ye? What evil spirits infest these walls? Henceforth be cautious how ye credit the phantasms of idleness, for ye may not always meet with a master who will condescend to undeceive ye.”⁠—They acknowledged the goodness of the marquis, and professing themselves perfectly conscious of the error of their former suspicions, desired they might search no farther. “I choose to leave nothing to your imagination,” replied the marquis, “lest hereafter it should betray you into a similar error. Follow me, therefore; you shall see the whole of these buildings.” Saying this, he led them to the south tower. They remembered, that from a door of this tower the figure which caused their alarm had issued; and notwithstanding the late assertion of their suspicions being removed, fear still operated powerfully upon their minds, and they would willingly have been excused from farther research. “Would any of you choose to explore this tower?” said the marquis, pointing to the broken staircase; “for myself, I am mortal, and therefore fear to venture; but you, who hold communion with disembodied spirits, may partake something of their nature; if so, you may pass without apprehension where the ghost has probably passed before.” They shrunk at this reproof, and were silent.

The marquis turning to a door on his right hand, ordered it to be unlocked. It opened upon the country,