Northanger Abbey Vol 2 Ch 6 Audiobook for English learners by Jane Austen

A moment's glance was enough to satisfy Catherine that her apartment was very unlike the one which Henry had endeavoured to alarm her by the description of. It was by no means unreasonably large, and contained neither tapestry nor velvet. The walls were papered, the floor was carpeted, the windows were neither less perfect nor more dim than those of the drawing-room below. The furniture, though not of the latest fashion, was handsome and comfortable, and the air of the room altogether far from uncheerful. Her heart instantaneously at ease on this point, she resolved to lose no time in particular examination of anything, as she greatly dreaded disobliging the General by any delay. Her habit, therefore, was thrown off with all the possible haste, and she was preparing to unpin the linen package which the chase-seat had conveyed for her immediate accommodation, when her eye suddenly fell on a large high chest, standing back in a deep recess on one side of the fireplace. The sight of it made her start, and, forgetting everything else, she stood gazing on it in motionless wonder, while these thoughts crossed her. This is strange indeed. I did not expect such a sight as this. An immense, heavy chest! What can it hold? Why should it be placed here? Pushed back, too, as if meant to be out of sight. I will look into it. Cost me what it may, I will look into it. And directly, too. By daylight. If I stay till evening my candle may go out. She advanced and examined it closely. It was of cedar, curiously inlaid with some darker wood, and raised about a foot from the ground on a carved stand of the same. The lock was silver, though tarnished from age. At each end were the imperfect remains of handles also of silver, broken perhaps prematurely by some strange violence, and on the centre of the lid was a mysterious cipher, in the same metal. Catherine bent over it intently, but without being able to distinguish anything with certainty. She could not, in whatever direction she took it, believe the last letter to be a T, and yet that it should be anything else in that house was a circumstance to raise no common degree of astonishment. If not originally theirs, by what strange events could it have fallen into the Tilney family? Her fearful curiosity was every moment growing greater, and seizing with trembling hands the hasp of the lock, she resolved at all hazards to satisfy herself at least as to its contents. With difficulty, for something seemed to resist her efforts, she raised the lid a few inches. But at that moment a sudden knocking at the door of the room made her, starting, quit her hold, and the lid closed with alarming violence. This ill-timed intruder was Miss Tilney's maid, sent by her mistress to be of use to Miss Morland. And though Catherine immediately dismissed her, it recalled her to the sense of what she ought to be doing, and forced her, in spite of her anxious desire to penetrate this mystery, to proceed in her dressing without any further delay. Her progress was not quick, for her thoughts and her eyes were still bent on the object so well calculated to interest and alarm. And though she dared not waste a moment upon a second attempt, she could not remain many paces from the chest. At length, however, having slipped one arm into her gown, her toilette seemed so nearly finished that the impatience of her curiosity might safely be indulged. One moment surely might be spared. And so desperate should be the exertion of her strength that, unless secured by supernatural means, the lid in one moment should be thrown back. With this spirit she sprang forward and her confidence did not deceive her. Her resolute effort threw back the lid and gave to her astonished eyes the view of a white cotton counterpane, properly folded, reposing at one end of the chest in undisputed possession. She was gazing on it with the first blush of surprise when Miss Tilney, anxious for her friends being ready, entered the room, and, to the rising shame of having harboured for some minutes an absurd expectation, was then added the shame of being caught in so idle a search. "'That is a curious old chest, is not it?' said Miss Tilney as Catherine hastily closed it and turned away to the glass. "'It is impossible to say how many generations it has been here. How it came to be first put in this room I know not, but I have not had it moved because I thought it might sometimes be of use in holding hats and bonnets. The worst of it is that its weight makes it difficult to open. In that corner, however, it is at least out of the way.' Catherine had no leisure for speech, being at once blushing, tying her gown and forming wise resolutions with the most violent dispatch. Miss Tilney gently hinted her fear of being late, and in half a minute they ran downstairs together, in an alarm not wholly unfounded, for General Tilney was pacing the drawing-room, his watch in his hand, and having, on the very instant of their entering, pulled the bell with violence, ordered, "'Dinner to be on table directly!' Catherine trembled at the emphasis with which he spoke, and sat pale and breathless in a most humble mood, concerned for his children and detesting old chests, and the General recovering his politeness as he looked at her, spent the rest of his time in scolding his daughter, for so foolishly hurrying her fair friend, who was absolutely out of breath from haste, when there was not the least occasion for hurry in the world. But Catherine could not at all get over the double distress of having involved her friend in a lecture, and been a great simpleton herself, till they were happily seated at the dinner-table, when the General's complacent smiles, and a good appetite of her own, restored her to peace. The dining-parlour was a noble room, suitable in its dimensions to a much larger drawing-room than the one in common use, and fitted up in a style of luxury and expense which was almost lost on the unpracticed eye of Catherine, who saw little more than its spaciousness and the number of their attendants. Of the former she spoke aloud her admiration, and the General, with a very gracious countenance, acknowledged that it was by no means an ill-sized room, and further confessed that, though as careless on such subjects as most people, he did look upon a tolerably large eating-room as one of the necessaries of life. He supposed, however, that she must have been used to much better-sized apartments at Mr. Allen's. No, indeed, was Catherine's honest assurance. Mr. Allen's dining-parlour was not more than half as large, and she had never seen so large a room as this in her life. The General's good humour increased. Why, as he HAD such rooms he thought it would be simple not to make use of them, but upon his honour he believed there might be more comfort in rooms of only half their size. Mr. Allen's house, he was sure, must be exactly of the true size for rational happiness. The evening passed without any further disturbance, and in the occasional absence of General Tilney, with much positive cheerfulness. It was only in his presence that Catherine felt the smallest fatigue from her journey. And even then, even in moments of languor or restraint, a sense of General happiness preponderated, and she could think of her friends in Bath without one wish of being with them. The night was stormy. The wind had been rising at intervals the whole afternoon, and by the time the party broke up it blew and rained violently. Catherine, as she crossed the hall, listened to the tempest with sensations of awe. And when she heard it rage round a corner of the ancient building, and close with sudden fury a distant door, felt for the first time that she was really in an abbey. Yes, these were characteristic sounds. They brought her to recollection a countless variety of dreadful situations and horrid scenes, which such buildings had witnessed, and such storms ushered in. And most heartily did she rejoice in the happier circumstances attending her entrance within walls so solemn. She had nothing to dread from midnight assassins or drunken gallants. Henry had certainly been only in jest in what he had told her that morning. In a house so furnished and so guarded, she could have nothing to explore or to suffer, and might go to her bedroom as securely as if it had been her own chamber at Fullerton. Thus, wisely fortifying her mind as she proceeded upstairs, she was enabled, especially on perceiving that Miss Tilney slept only two doors from her, to enter her room with a tolerably stout heart, and her spirits were immediately assisted by the cheerful blaze of a wood fire. "'How much better is this?' said she as she walked to the fender. "'How much better to find a fire ready lit than to have to wait shivering in the cold till all the family are in bed, as so many poor girls have been obliged to do, and then to have a faithful old servant frightening one by coming in with a faggot! How glad I am that Northanger is what it is! If it had been like some other places, I do not know that, in such a night as this, I could have answered for my courage. But now, to be sure, there is nothing to alarm one.' She looked round the room. The window curtains seemed in motion. It could be nothing but the violence of the wind penetrating through the divisions of the shutters, and she stepped boldly forward, carelessly humming a tune to assure herself of its being so, peeped courageously behind each curtain, saw nothing on either low window seat to scare her, and on placing a hand against the shutter felt the strongest conviction of the wind's force. A glance at the old chest, as she turned away from this examination, was not without its use. She scorned the causeless fears of an idle fancy, and began with a most happy indifference to prepare herself for bed. She should take her time. She should not hurry herself. She did not care if she were the last person up in the house. But she would not make up her fire. That would seem cowardly, as if she wished for the protection of light after she were in bed. The fire therefore died away, and Catherine, having spent the best part of an hour in her arrangements, was beginning to think of stepping into bed, when, on giving a parting glance round the room, she was struck by the appearance of a high, old-fashioned black cabinet, which, though in a situation conspicuous enough, had never caught her notice before. Henry's words—his description of the ebony cabinet which was to escape her observation at first—immediately rushed across her. And though there could be nothing really in it, there was something whimsical. It was certainly a very remarkable coincidence. She took her candle and looked closely at the cabinet. It was not absolutely ebony and gold, but it was Japan, black and yellow Japan of the handsomest kind, and as she held her candle, the yellow had very much the effect of gold. The key was in the door, and she had a strange fancy to look into it. Not, however, with the smallest expectation of finding anything, but it was so very odd, after what Henry had said. In short, she could not sleep till she had examined it. So, placing the candle with great caution on a chair, she seized the key with a very tremulous hand and tried to turn it. But it resisted her utmost strength. Alarmed but not discouraged, she tried it another way. A bolt flew, and she believed herself successful. But how strangely mysterious! The door was still immovable. She paused a moment in breathless wonder. The wind roared down the chimney, the rain beat in torrents against the windows, and everything seemed to speak the awfulness of her situation. To retire to bed, however, unsatisfied on such a point, would be in vain, since sleep must be impossible with the consciousness of a cabinet so mysteriously closed in her immediate vicinity. Again, therefore, she applied herself to the key, and after moving it in every possible way for some instance, with the determined celerity of Hope's last effort, the door suddenly yielded to her hand. Her heart leaped with exultation at such a victory, and having thrown open each folding door, the second being secured only by bolts of less wonderful construction than the lock, though in that her eye could not discern anything unusual, a double range of small drawers appeared in view, with some larger drawers above and below them, and in the centre, a small door, closed also with a lock and key, secured in all probability a cavity of importance. Catherine's heart beat quick, but her courage did not fail her. With a cheek flushed by Hope and an eye straining with curiosity, her fingers grasped the handle of a drawer and drew it forth. It was entirely empty. With less alarm and greater eagerness she seized a second, a third, a fourth. Each was equally empty. Not one was left unsearched, and in not one was anything found. Well read in the art of concealing a treasure, the possibility of false linings to the drawers did not escape her, and she felt round each with anxious acuteness in vain. The place in the middle alone remained now unexplored, and though she had never from the first had the smallest idea of finding anything in any part of the cabinet, and was not in the least disappointed at her ill success thus far, it would be foolish not to examine it thoroughly while she was about it. It was some time, however, before she could unfasten the door, the same difficulty occurring in the management of this inner lock as of the outer, but at length it did open, and not vain as hitherto was her search. Her quick eyes directly fell on a roll of paper, pushed back into the further part of the cavity, apparently for concealment, and her feelings at that moment were indescribable. Her heart fluttered, her knees trembled, and her cheeks grew pale. She seized with an unsteady hand the precious manuscript, for half a glance sufficed to ascertain written characters, and while she acknowledged with awful sensations the striking exemplification of what Henry had foretold, resolved instantly to peruse every line before she attempted to rest. The dimness of the light her candle emitted made her turn to it with alarm, but there was no danger of its sudden extinction. It had yet some hours to burn, and that she might not have any greater difficulty in distinguishing the writing than what its ancient date might occasion, she hastily snuffed it. Alas! It was snuffed and extinguished in one. A lamp could not have expired with more awful effect. Catherine for a few moments was motionless with horror. It was done completely. Not a remnant of light in the wick could give hope to the rekindling breath. Darkness impenetrable and immovable filled the room. A violent gust of wind, rising with sudden fury, added fresh horror to the moment. Catherine trembled from head to foot. In the pause which succeeded, a sound like receding footsteps and the closing of a distant door struck on her affrighted ear. Human nature could support no more. A cold sweat stood on her forehead. The manuscript fell from her hand, and groping her way to the bed she jumped hastily in and sought some suspension of agony by creeping far underneath the clothes. To close her eyes in sleep that night she felt must be entirely out of the question. With a curiosity so justly awakened, and feelings in every way so agitated, repose must be absolutely impossible. The storm too abroad so dreadful. She had not been used to feel alarm from wind, but now every blast seemed fraught with awful intelligence. The manuscript so wonderfully found, so wonderfully accomplishing the morning's prediction, how was it to be accounted for? What could it contain? To whom could it relate? By what means could it have been so long concealed? And how singularly strange that it should fall to her lot to discover it! Till she had made herself mistress of its contents, however, she could have neither repose nor comfort. And with the sun's first rays she was determined to peruse it. But many were the tedious hours which must yet intervene. She shuddered, tossed about in her bed, and envied every quiet sleeper. The storm still raged and various were the noises, more terrific even than the wind, which struck at intervals on her startled ear. The very curtains of her bed seemed at one moment in motion, and at another the lock of her door was agitated, as if by the attempt of somebody to enter. Hollow murmurs seemed to creep along the gallery, and more than once her blood was chilled by the sound of distant moans. Hour after hour passed away, and the wearied Catherine had heard three proclaimed by all the clocks in the house, for the tempest subsided, or she unknowingly fell fast asleep.