the haunted hotel(闹鬼的旅馆)-第37节
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to their long separation from each otherembittered perhaps by her own
vain regret when she remembered her harsh reception of him in Paris？
Suddenly conscious of this bold question； and of the self…abandonment
which it implied； she returned mechanically to her book； distrusting the
unrestrained liberty of her own thoughts。 What lurking temptations to
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forbidden tenderness find their hiding…places in a woman's dressing…gown；
when she is alone in her room at night！ With her heart in the tomb of the
dead Montbarry； could Agnes even think of another man； and think of love？
How shameful！ how unworthy of her！ For the second time； she tried to
interest herself in the guide…book and once more she tried in vain。
Throwing the book aside； she turned desperately to the one resource that
was left； to her luggageresolved to fatigue herself without mercy； until
she was weary enough and sleepy enough to find a safe refuge in bed。
For some little time； she persisted in the monotonous occupation of
transferring her clothes from her trunk to the wardrobe。 The large clock in
the hall； striking mid…night； reminded her that it was getting late。 She sat
down for a moment in an arm…chair by the bedside； to rest。
The silence in the house now caught her attention； and held it held it
disagreeably。 Was everybody in bed and asleep but herself？ Surely it was
time for her to follow the general example？ With a certain irritable
nervous haste； she rose again and undressed herself。 'I have lost two hours
of rest；' she thought； frowning at the reflection of herself in the glass； as
she arranged her hair for the night。 'I shall be good for nothing to…morrow！'
She lit the night…light； and extinguished the candles with one
exception； which she removed to a little table； placed on the side of the
bed opposite to the side occupied by the arm…chair。 Having put her
travelling…box of matches and the guide…book near the candle； in case she
might be sleepless and might want to read； she blew out the light； and laid
her head on the pillow。
The curtains of the bed were looped back to let the air pass freely over
her。 Lying on her left side； with her face turned away from the table； she
could see the arm…chair by the dim night…light。 It had a chintz covering
representing large bunches of roses scattered over a pale green ground。
She tried to weary herself into drowsiness by counting over and over again
the bunches of roses that were visible from her point of view。 Twice her
attention was distracted from the counting； by sounds outside by the
clock chiming the half…hour past twelve； and then again； by the fall of a
pair of boots on the upper floor； thrown out to be cleaned； with that
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barbarous disregard of the comfort of others which is observable in
humanity when it inhabits an hotel。 In the silence that followed these
passing disturbances； Agnes went on counting the roses on the arm…chair；
more and more slowly。 Before long； she confused herself in the figures
tried to begin counting again thought she would wait a little firstfelt her
eyelids drooping； and her head reclining lower and lower on the pillow
sighed faintly and sank into sleep。
How long that first sleep lasted； she never knew。 She could only
remember； in the after…time； that she woke instantly。
Every faculty and perception in her passed the boundary line between
insensibility and consciousness； so to speak； at a leap。 Without knowing
why； she sat up suddenly in the bed； listening for she knew not what。 Her
head was in a whirl； her heart beat furiously； without any assignable cause。
But one trivial event had happened during the interval while she had been
asleep。 The night…light had gone out； and the room； as a matter of course；
was in total darkness。
She felt for the match…box； and paused after finding it。 A vague sense
of confusion was still in her mind。 She was in no hurry to light the match。
The pause in the darkness was； for the moment； agreeable to her。
In the quieter flow of her thoughts during this interval； she could ask
herself the natural question：What cause had awakened her so suddenly；
and had so strangely shaken her nerves？ Had it been the influence of a
dream？ She had not dreamed at allor； to speak more correctly； she had
no waking remembrance of having dreamed。 The mystery was beyond
her fathoming： the darkness began to oppress her。 She struck the match
on the box； and lit her candle。
As the welcome light diffused itself over the room； she turned from the
table and looked towards the other side of the bed。
In the moment when she turned； the chill of a sudden terror gripped
her round the heart； as with the clasp of an icy hand。
She was not alone in her room！
Therein the chair at the bedsidethere； suddenly revealed under the
flow of light from the candle； was the figure of a woman； reclining。 Her
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head lay back over the chair。 Her face； turned up to the ceiling； had the
eyes closed； as if she was wrapped in a deep sleep。
The shock of the discovery held Agnes speechless and helpless。 Her
first conscious action； when she was in some degree mistress of herself
again； was to lean over the bed； and to look closer at the woman who had
so incomprehensibly stolen into her room in the dead of night。 One glance
was enough： she started back with a cry of amazement。 The person in
the chair was no other than the widow of the dead Montbarry the woman
who had warned her that they were to meet again； and that the place might
be Venice！
Her courage returned to her； stung into action by the natural sense of
indignation which the presence of the Countess provoked。
'Wake up！' she called out。 'How dare you come here？ How did you
get in？ Leave the roomor I will call for help！'
She raised her voice at the last words。 It produced no effect。 Leaning
farther over the bed； she boldly took the Countess by the shoulder and
shook her。 Not even this effort succeeded in rousing the sleeping woman。
She still lay back in the chair； possessed by a torpor like the torpor of
deathinsensible to sound； insensible to touch。 Was she really sleeping？
Or had she fainted？
Agnes looked closer at her。 She had not fainted。 Her breathing was
audible； rising and falling in deep heavy gasps。 At intervals she ground
her teeth savagely。 Beads of perspiration stood thickly on her forehead。
Her clenched hands rose and fell slowly from time to time on her lap。
Was she in the agony of a dream？ or was she spiritually conscious of
something hidden in the room？
The doubt involved in that last question was unendurable。 Agnes
determined to rouse the servants who kept watch in the hotel at night。
The bell…handle was fixed to the wall； on the side of the bed by which
the table stood。
She raised herself from the crouching position which she had assumed
in looking close at the Countess； and； turning towards the other side of the
bed； stretched out her hand to the bell。 At the same instant； she stopped
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and looked upward。 Her hand fell helplessly at her side。 She shuddered；
and sank back on the pillow。
What had she seen？
She had seen another intruder in her room。
Midway between her face and the ceiling； there hovered a human
head severed at the neck； like a head struck from the body by the
guillotine。
Nothing visible； nothing audible； had given her any intelligible
warning of its appear
