Cautiously and gradually she withdrew one of her arms from under the silk coverlet, and began with extreme care to draw aside the clothes, pausing every second to listen whether there was the least irregularity in his respiration; but finding it still uniform, she became reassured, and at length succeeded in so far disengaging herself as to be enabled to place one foot on the matted floor. By degrees she withdrew the other also, and leaning on her left arm began to glide softly from the bed; in retiring from which the slightest rustle of her drapery seemed to her strained ear like a crash of thunder. Well nigh did she expire with terror, when on finally withdrawing herself, the heavy breathing of her detested companion suddenly stopped! Already were his long bony fingers around her throat, she felt herself struggling, quivering, tugging in the agonies of death, and her eyeballs starting from their sockets. She felt all this, at least in imagination, as the heavy breathing ceased. Providentially for her, although the moon now shone in full upon the arras which covered the door, the heavy velvet curtains which fell in large folds from the frieze of the canopy overhead threw a deep shadow where the trembling fair one stood, and she was also partially hidden by one of those large and high old fashioned screens, which were then so much in use, and indeed indispensable, for intercepting drafts of air from the huge chimneys and ill closed windows. There in breathless anxiety she stood, as immovable and as cold as a marble statue. Although the dreaded giant appeared to rise up, she soon had the inexpressible delight to hear that he only turned on the bed, and that it was toward the opposite side to that she wished to gain. Long did she stand riveted to the spot, petrified with fear and shivering with apprehension, but she was every moment gathering fresh courage and resolution (now that she was relieved from such near contact with the mysterious visiter,) and determined, with an almost preternatural impulse, that, if assaulted, she would defend herself to the last extremity.
At length she heard the breathing become again regular, and unable longer to struggle against fear and hope, she stepped silently but determinedly toward the door. Cautiously and slowly was the arras raised and put aside with the left hand, while in her right she firmly grasped the bolt. Who can feel or describe the rapture which fluttered her heart, as she now bravely, fearlessly and rapidly drew the fastening from its staple! But, as it loudly started back, she heard the bedstead crash, and the tall figure of that monstrous being leaped from it toward her! The blood rushed to her heart as the door gave way to her concentrated strength, she rushed from the room, and flew with wild speed and dreadful screams, along the corridor and into the long gallery.
If any one has ever heard the quick, sharp, piercing shriek of a woman in the last extremity of peril, he can easily conceive the terrible energy of Miss Chamberlain’s screams to escape from her pursuer, and awaken the Duke of Rutland and his gallant son. The deep shrillness of her anguished cries pierced every ear throughout the towers of Haddon. At that still moment, in the dead hour of midnight, there was not one living creature within the walls, but started up appalled. The dogs set up a most dismal howl, and the castle bell quickly rung out its deafening tones on the night air. Upward of one hundred and thirty persons, who had been reposing in confident security, were flying in every direction. The watchmen in the entrance tower seized their iron lamps, flew across the lower quadrangle and rushed up the stone staircase leading to the state apartments, which they reached almost in a second, and to their inexpressible relief found the duke hurrying toward the long gallery, accompanied by his intrepid heir, who grasped a gleaming sabre in his hand. The awful screams, they knew, proceeded from that quarter of the building, but alas, if those terrific sounds had arisen suddenly, they had as suddenly ceased, for all was now hushed and still.
Lord Granby, preceding his father, flew toward the gallery, joined at every step by his numerous friends, and servants bearing lights, and arriving at the foot of the well known circular steps, which lead up to the gallery, he found, to his horror and dismay, the body of Miss Chamberlain lying on her face, in a pool of blood which was streaming from her mouth, whilst her long beautiful hair and dress were in the wildest disorder. Groans of mingled pity and indignation burst from all present, but it was no time to stand still. The marquis threw aside his sword, and kneeling down, raised the bleeding victim in his arms; but all animation was extinct, and life itself had apparently left her.
By desire of the duke’s physician, the body was immediately borne to the apartments of the Countess of Carlisle, whilst the groom of the chambers led on the now large assembly to the apartment which had been assigned to the maiden. On reaching it a single glance revealed that it had been occupied by two persons, but who it was that had dared to violate the lady’s privacy, remained a mystery, for the apartment was now as still and desolate as when its doors were first opened to the reader.
A thorough search throughout the entire castle was instantly commenced. As the fastening of Miss Chamberlain’s apartment was on the inside, and could not be opened from without, it was plain that the intruder, whoever he was, must have concealed himself there before she retired. On this subject the groom of the chambers underwent a long and close examination, but nothing was elicited from him which tended in the remotest degree toward a discovery of the mystery.
It was remarked, and well remembered, that the whole of the gentlemen had remained in the great hall long after the ladies had retired to their respective apartments, and the eagerness with which every guest or retainer now joined in the search, indicated their general earnestness for the instant investigation of the subject, and the detection and punishment of the bold adventurer who had been guilty of the wanton and unparalleled crime. Every effort, however, was unavailing.
Meantime, by a prompt application of the lancet, and other usual restoratives, the ladies had the unspeakable pleasure of seeing Miss Chamberlain begin to show signs of returning animation. The physician, however, gave strict injunctions that on the return of her reason no allusion whatever should be made to the terrible circumstances under which she was found, and that should she herself show an inclination to speak of them she should as gently as possibly be restrained. The Countess of Carlisle sat by her side, and with tender solicitude endeavored by every means which affection and good sense could suggest, to soothe and quiet her mind. In this she was so successful that although her lovely protégé had a long succession of fainting fits, she was finally near the break of day lulled into a gentle sleep, from which after a few hours she awoke perfectly rational. When she was apparently about to speak of her adventure the countess informed her of the physician’s desire that she should refrain from mentioning the occurrences of the night until she had gained more strength, as it had been found that the injuries occasioned by her fall were so severe that her immediate restoration could be accomplished only by more than usual carefulness and quiet.
On the following day, however, the restriction was removed, and during the afternoon, as the Duchess of Rutland and Lady Carlisle were sitting beside the couch on which she reclined, she related to them nearly all the particulars with which the reader is now acquainted, but added that after her escape through the door of her apartment, she could recollect nothing whatever, except a frightful concussion, as if she had been suddenly struck down and killed by the dreaded spectre whom she supposed to be in pursuit of her. This was doubtless occasioned by the severity of her fall down the steps, the effect of which was increased tenfold by the velocity of her flight along the gallery, unconscious that there was any stair before her.
A more thorough search having been instituted in the room which Miss Chamberlain had occupied, it was discovered that under the arras, behind the bed, and close to the floor, there was a small square sliding panel, of sufficient size to admit a man’s body. Such contrivances, in ancient buildings, not unfrequently lead into secret passages, but here, contrary to the usual custom, instead of descending it gradually rose within the massive pile of stone. The walls of old castellated buildings are sometimes of extraordinary thickness, varying from six to eighteen feet. This dark passage at Haddon, evidently erected for purposes of secrecy and safety during the feudal times, appeared to be coeval with the most ancient towers of the edifice, and it was quite unknown to any servant, or even to a member of the Rutland family. After ascending to a considerable height it again descended and led into a subterranean passage which was followed with much difficulty, from the decay and falling in of the stones which once had formed the steps of stairs. There were also two or three abrupt, acute angles, which, at their turning, branched off and divided into others, but one of these was always found (after following it for some distance) to end in what is called a blind alley; apparently intended to mislead or waylay any one in pursuit who was unacquainted with the intricacies and windings of the labyrinth. The true path was, therefore, followed with extreme difficulty, particularly as the air within it was so impure that lights could not easily be made to burn. It was ultimately found that the passage terminated behind a handsome gothic stone pavilion which was erected on the upper terrace of the garden, and within a foot of the high wall that serves as an embankment to retain the steep rising ground of the hill park. The pavilion was overgrown with old tangled ivy, and encircled with aged lilac bushes, pleached and intertwisted so closely, in every fantastic form, as to preclude the possibility of ingress or egress through them, toward the back of the building, and there was no other way of getting at the secret entrance behind the pavilion, except by climbing over the pinnacle stone roof, a feat impossible without a ladder, or by going round into the hill park, and there descending by the very narrow space between the back wall of the pavilion and the stone rampart.