In the mean time Lucy remained in the dark. The first thing she did, was to feel about for the chair, and sitting, down, she had a good opportunity of crying to her heart's content. She was still engaged in this agreeable occupation, when she heard a knocking as if somebody wished to come in. Lucy wiped her eyes and listened. It could not be her mother--she would have come in at once without any such ceremony; besides, it did not seem to come from that side. Lucy listened again; the knocking continued, but evidently came from the opposite part of the chamber, and appeared not so near as the cellar. Lucy now got upon her feet, trembling as if she had the palsy, and began to approach the sound. She knocked over the table, and almost fainted with the noise; she picked up the table and knocked over the chair, and then again, vice versâ, stopping awhile between each to take breath.
Having arranged all that, she tumbled over her mother's money-box, broke her shins, and hopped about the room on one foot with the pain for full five minutes; then not being able to find the chair, she leaned against the wainscot for support; but the wainscot gave way. with a crack as if it moved on hinges, and she had almost fallen headlong into another room as dark as the first.
Lucy now doubted whether she ought to be most surprised or frightened, but fright had decidedly the majority when she heard something move in this same dark chamber on the opposite side to that by which she herself had entered. Now Lucy, though she had never studied modern tactics was possessed of many of those principles which are supposed to constitute a good general, and in the present instance, not having an opportunity of reconnoitring her ground, and finding her forces totally inadequate to meeting an adversary of any kind, she resolved upon making a retreat under cover of darkness, but unfortunately she had neglected to observe which way she had advanced, and for a moment could not find the entrance into the other chamber. The noise which she had at first heard of something moving, increased; she became more and more bewildered, ran this way and that, till--ugh! she ran against something soft and warm, which caught fast hold of her, and in this interesting position she fainted. What could she do else?
O ye bards and "romanciers," give me some delicate description of a young lady recovering from a fainting fit! But no--when Lucy opened her eyes, she found herself sitting in the manner that European young ladies and gentlemen generally sit, with an engaging youth, no other than Edward Fontange, sitting beside her in mute despair, and from time to time, fanning her face with the tails of his coat, while a lamp, with its accompanying phosphorus-box, stood by with its dim light, showing in more gloomy horrors the walls of a dark vault, which, to the terrified eyes of Lucy, seemed interminable.
Forgetting all the "ohs!" and the "ahs!" of the two lovers, together with question and answer without end, be it briefly stated, that Edward Fontange had never contrived to forget Lucy Jones; and always remembering that it was his want of fortune which had broken his love-dream, he incessantly meditated the means of remedying that wherein fate had wronged him. But all ordinary plans demanded years, long years, to perfect, and love would brook no delay. He had heard, however, of hidden treasures, and of monks who had concealed immense sums during the revolution, and he bethought him of searching the cellars of the old convent where he lived, without ever dreaming that he should there, find a subterranean communication with the dwelling of his Lucy. Upon his first examination, he was struck, like Mrs. Jones, by an iron cross in the wall, and resolved, like her, to come to the bottom of it the first opportunity.
The first opportunity arrived with the arrival of the British troops, for his good step-father, not having the most courageous disposition, flew instantly to the country with his wealth, and left Edward to take care of the house. No sooner was he gone, than poor Edward descended to the cellar, and with a good pick-axe and a strong arm, set to work upon the cellar-wall. He soon, like Mrs. Jones, discovered a door, and a small chamber exactly similar to her's. Examining this more closely than she had done, he soon found his way to an extensive vault, and on narrowly viewing the walls with his lamp, he discovered another iron cross, smaller than the former. Here he set to work again with his pick-axe, when suddenly he thought he heard a noise as if something fell. He listened, and hearing it again, he blew out his lamp for fear of an intruder. Two or three subsequent clatters succeeded, then a creak as if of an opening door, and immediately after, he clearly heard some one move and breathe in the vault.
Whether it was curiosity, or one of those odd presentiments that sometimes come over us, or any other of the many motives by which we may conceive a man in such circumstances to be actuated, does not matter, but his prudence left him: he advanced to find out what it was that produced the noise; got hold of a woman's gown, and in a minute after, had his own fair Lucy fainting in his arms. As may be supposed, he lighted his lamp, and, on finding who it was, went through all the stages of surprises; consternation, and anxiety, He then tried several ways of bringing her to herself, amongst which was kissing her more than once, but that did not answer at all, for the more he kissed her the more dead she seemed to be. But at length, as I have said, after a reasonable time, she opened her eyes, and then she had violent fits of astonishment, etc., which were calmed and appeased by hearing an account very similar to that which has just been recited.
Lucy had no curiosity at all, she cared for nobody's affairs but her own; nevertheless, simply out of affection for Edward, she insisted on his going on with his researches under the little iron cross in the wall while she was present. She would not have it delayed a moment, and looked on as if she had been the most curious person in the world. Edward worked away. The wall was soon demolished, and behind it appeared no door, but a small cavity and a small wooden chest.
"Here it is! here it is!" cried Edward, in a transport of joy, taking it out and setting it on the ground. "Lucy, dear Lucy, you are mine at last. I would give nothing for the treasure if my dear Lucy did not share it."
Lucy could do nothing but cry, for the generosity of her lover's sentiments left her no other answer. However, she took the lamp and both knelt down to look what was written on the top, when, O horror! the only word which met their view was "Reliques." Edward, gazed on Lucy, and Lucy looked at Edward without saying anything.