'Yes, that is the turret; why, who are you, that you are going thither?'
said the man with surprise. St. Aubert, on hearing this odd question, and observing the peculiar
tone in which it was delivered, looked out from the carriage. 'We are
travellers,' said he, 'who are in search of a house of accommodation for
the night; is there any hereabout?'
'None, Monsieur, unless you have a mind to try your luck yonder,'
replied the peasant, pointing to the woods, 'but I would not advise you
to go there.' 'To whom does the chateau belong?'
'I scarcely know myself, Monsieur.' 'It is uninhabited, then?' 'No, not uninhabited; the steward and
housekeeper are there, I believe.'
On hearing this, St. Aubert determined to proceed to the chateau, and
risque the refusal of being accommodated for the night; he therefore
desired the countryman would shew Michael the way, and bade him expect
reward for his trouble. The man was for a moment silent, and then said,
that he was going on other business, but that the road could not be
missed, if they went up an avenue to the right, to which he pointed. St.
Aubert was going to speak, but the peasant wished him good night, and
walked on.
The carriage now moved towards the avenue, which was guarded by a gate,
and Michael having dismounted to open it, they entered between rows of
ancient oak and chesnut, whose intermingled branches formed a lofty arch
above. There was something so gloomy and desolate in the appearance of
this avenue, and its lonely silence, that Emily almost shuddered as
she passed along; and, recollecting the manner in which the peasant had
mentioned the chateau, she gave a mysterious meaning to his words, such
as she had not suspected when he uttered them. These apprehensions,
however, she tried to check, considering that they were probably the
effect of a melancholy imagination, which her father's situation, and
a consideration of her own circumstances, had made sensible to every
impression. They passed slowly on, for they were now almost in darkness, which,
together with the unevenness of the ground, and the frequent roots of
old trees, that shot up above the soil, made it necessary to proceed
with caution. On a sudden Michael stopped the carriage; and, as St.
Aubert looked from the window to enquire the cause, he perceived a
figure at some distance moving up the avenue. The dusk would not permit
him to distinguish what it was, but he bade Michael go on.
'This seems a wild place,' said Michael; 'there is no house hereabout,
don't your honour think we had better turn back?'