The Mysteries of Udolpho

Her surprise, on hearing such soothing and delicious sounds, was, at

least, justifiable; for it was long--very long, since she had listened

to any thing like melody. The fierce trumpet and the shrill fife were

the only instruments she had heard, since her arrival at Udolpho.

When her mind was somewhat more composed, she tried to ascertain from

what quarter the sounds proceeded, and thought they came from below; but

whether from a room of the castle, or from the terrace, she could not

with certainty judge. Fear and surprise now yielded to the enchantment

of a strain, that floated on the silent night, with the most soft

and melancholy sweetness. Suddenly, it seemed removed to a distance,

trembled faintly, and then entirely ceased.

She continued to listen, sunk in that pleasing repose, which soft music

leaves on the mind--but it came no more. Upon this strange circumstance

her thoughts were long engaged, for strange it certainly was to hear

music at midnight, when every inhabitant of the castle had long since

retired to rest, and in a place, where nothing like harmony had been

heard before, probably, for many years. Long-suffering had made her

spirits peculiarly sensible to terror, and liable to be affected by the

illusions of superstition.--

It now seemed to her, as if her dead father

had spoken to her in that strain, to inspire her with comfort and

confidence, on the subject, which had then occupied her mind. Yet reason

told her, that this was a wild conjecture, and she was inclined to

dismiss it; but, with the inconsistency so natural, when imagination

guides the thoughts, she then wavered towards a belief as wild. She

remembered the singular event, connected with the castle, which had

given it into the possession of its present owner; and, when she

considered the mysterious manner, in which its late possessor had

disappeared, and that she had never since been heard of, her mind was

impressed with an high degree of solemn awe; so that, though there

appeared no clue to connect that event with the late music, she was

inclined fancifully to think they had some relation to each other. At

this conjecture, a sudden chillness ran through her frame; she looked

fearfully upon the duskiness of her chamber, and the dead silence, that

prevailed there, heightened to her fancy its gloomy aspect.

At length, she left the casement, but her steps faltered, as she

approached the bed, and she stopped and looked round. The single lamp,

that burned in her spacious chamber, was expiring; for a moment, she

shrunk from the darkness beyond; and then, ashamed of the weakness,

which, however, she could not wholly conquer, went forward to the bed,

where her mind did not soon know the soothings of sleep. She still mused

on the late occurrence, and looked with anxiety to the next night, when,

at the same hour, she determined to watch whether the music returned.

'If those sounds were human,' said she, 'I shall probably hear them

again.'