“I cannot promise that with certainty, but I will venture to say, it will not be your fault if the enchantment should vanish.”
“Well, ma’amselle, that is saying more than I expected of you: but I am not so much afraid of fairies, as of ghosts, and they say there are a plentiful many of them about the castle: now I should be frightened to death, if I should chance to see any of them. But hush! ma’amselle, walk softly! I have thought, several times, something passed by me.”
“Ridiculous!” said Emily, “you must not indulge such fancies.”
“O ma’am! they are not fancies, for aught I know; Benedetto says these dismal galleries and halls are fit for nothing but ghosts to live in; and I verily believe, if I live long in them I shall turn to one myself!”
“I hope,” said Emily, “you will not suffer Signor Montoni to hear of these weak fears; they would highly displease him.”
“What, you know then, ma’amselle, all about it!” rejoined Annette. “No, no, I do know better than to do so; though, if the Signor can sleep sound, nobody else in the castle has any right to lie awake, I am sure.” Emily did not appear to notice this remark.
“Down this passage, ma’amselle; this leads to a back staircase. O! if I see anything, I shall be frightened out of my wits!”
“That will scarcely be possible,” said Emily smiling, as she followed the winding of the passage, which opened into another gallery: and then Annette, perceiving that she had missed her way, while she had been so eloquently haranguing on ghosts and fairies, wandered about through other passages and galleries, till, at length, frightened by their intricacies and desolation, she called aloud for assistance: but they were beyond the hearing of the servants, who were on the other side of the castle, and Emily now opened the door of a chamber on the left.
“O! do not go in there, ma’amselle,” said Annette, “you will only lose yourself further.”
“Bring the light forward,” said Emily, “we may possibly find our way through these rooms.”