d
long ago. After a time, however, her mood changed. She grew restless,
and rising, began to wander aimlessly about the room; but her uneasiness
only increased, and finally, in desperation, she resolved to venture out
into the corridor and look about her, no matter at what risk. Anything
would be better than this enforced inactivity and suspense. She tried
the door with a trembling hand, dreading to find herself locked in, but
it was not fastened, and seeing that all was dark outside, she took up
a small lamp, that had been left burning on a side table, and boldly
setting forth, went softly down the long flight of stairs, in the hope
of finding some means of exit from the chateau on the lower floor. At
the foot of the stairs she came to a large double door, one leaf of
which yielded easily when she timidly tried to open it, but creaked
dolefully as it turned on its hinges. She hesitated for a moment,
fearing that the noise would alarm the servants and bring them out to
see what was amiss; but no one came, and taking fresh courage, she moved
on and passed into a lofty, vaulted hall, with high-backed, oaken benches
ranged against the tapestry-covered walls, upon which hung several large
trophies of arms, and sundry swords, shields, and steel gauntlets, which
caught and flashed back the light from her lamp as she held it up to
examine them. The air was heavy, chilly, and damp. An awful stillness
reigned in this deserted hall. Isabelle shivered as she crept slowly
along, and nearly stumbled against a huge table, with massive carved
feet, that stood in the centre of the tesselated marble pavement. She
was making for a door, opposite the one by which she had entered; but,
as she approached it, was horror-stricken when she perceived two tall
men, clad in armour, standing like sentinels, one on either side of it.
She stopped short, then tried to turn and fly, but was so paralyzed with
terror that she could not stir, expecting every instant that they would
pounce upon her and take her prisoner, while she bitterly repented her
temerity in having ventured to leave her own room, and vainly wished
herself back by the quiet fireside there. Meanwhile the two dread
figures stood as motionless as herself--the silence was unbroken, and
"the beating of her own heart was the only sound she heard." So at last
she plucked up courage to look more closely at the grim sentinels, and
could not help smiling at her own needless alarm, when she found