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 all--or, 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!
There--in the chair at the bedside--there, suddenly revealed under
the flow of light from the candle, was the figure of a woman, reclining.
Her 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.
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