He first stopped at the threshold, and, by the
light of the candle, took a hasty survey. All was still: and the
table on which the letter had been left, being behind the door, was
concealed by its being opened. It must be done, thought Philip: and
why not at once? continued he, resuming his courage; and, with a firm
step, he walked into the room and went to unfasten the shutters. If
his hands trembled a little when he called to mind how supernaturally
they had last been opened, it is not surprising. We are but mortal,
and we shrink from contact with aught beyond this life. When the
fastenings were removed and the shutters unfolded, a stream of light
poured into the room so vivid as to dazzle his eyesight; strange to
say, this very light of a brilliant day overthrew the resolution of
Philip more than the previous gloom and darkness had done; and with
the candle in his hand, he retreated hastily into the kitchen to
re-summon his courage, and there he remained for some minutes, with
his face covered, and in deep thought. It is singular that his reveries at last ended by reverting to the
fair daughter of Mynheer Poots, and her first appearance at the
window; and he felt as if the flood of light which had just driven
him from the one, was not more impressive and startling than her
enchanting form at the other. His mind dwelling upon the beauteous
vision appeared to restore Philip's confidence; he now rose and boldly
walked into the room. We shall not describe the objects it contained
as they chanced to meet the eyes of Philip, but attempt a more lucid
arrangement. The room was about twelve or fourteen feet square, with but one
window; opposite to the door stood the chimney and fireplace, with a
high buffet of dark wood on each side. The floor of the room was not
dirty, although about its upper parts spiders had run their cobwebs
in every direction. In the centre of the ceiling, hung a quicksilver
globe, a common ornament in those days, but the major part of it had
lost its brilliancy, the spiders' webs enclosing it like a shroud. Over the chimney piece were hung two or three drawings framed and
glazed, but a dusty mildew was spotted over the glass, so that little
of them could be distinguished. In the centre of the mantel-piece was
an image of the Virgin Mary, of pure silver, in a shrine of the same
metal, but it was tarnished to the colour of bronze or iron; some
Indian figures stood on each side of it. The glass doors of the
buffets on each side of the chimney-piece were also so dimmed that
little of what was within could be distinguished; the light and heat
which had been poured into the room, even for so short a time, had
already gathered up the damp of many years, and it lay as a mist and
mingled with the dust upon the panes of glass: still here and there a
glittering of silver vessels could be discerned, for the glass doors
had protected them from turning black, although much dimmed in lustre. On the wall facing the window were other prints, in frames equally
veiled in damp and cobwebs, and also two bird-cages. The bird-cages
Philip approached, and looked into them. The occupants, of course, had
long been dead; but at the bottom of the cages was a small heap of
yellow feathers, through which the little white bones of the skeletons
were to be seen, proving that they had been brought from the Canary
Isles; and, at that period, such birds were highly valued. Philip
appeared to wish to examine everything before he sought that which
he most dreaded, yet most wished, to find. There were several chairs
round the room: on one of them was some linen; he took it up. It was
some that must have belonged to him when he was yet a child. At last,
Philip turned his eyes to the wall not yet examined (that opposite the
chimney-piece), through which the door was pierced, and behind the
door as it lay open, he was to find the table, the couch, the workbox,
and the FATAL LETTER. As he turned round, his pulse, which had
gradually recovered its regular motion, beat more quickly; but he made
the effort, and it was over. At first he examined the walls, against
which were hung swords and pistols of various sorts, but chiefly
Asiatic bows and arrows, and other implements of destruction. Philip's
eyes gradually descended upon the table, and little couch behind it,
where his mother stated herself to have been seated when his father
made his awful visit. The workbox and all its implements were on the
table, just as she had left them. The keys she mentioned were also
lying there, but Philip looked, and looked again; there was no letter. He now advanced nearer, examined closely--there was none that he could
perceive, either on the couch or on the table--or on the floor. He
lifted up the workbox to ascertain if it was beneath--but no. He
examined among its contents, but no letter was there. He turned over
the pillows of the couch, but still there was no letter to be found. And Philip felt as if there had been a heavy load removed from his
panting chest. "Surely, then," thought he, as he leant against the
wall, "this must have been the vision of a heated imagination. My poor
mother must have fallen asleep, and dreamt this horrid tale. I thought
it was impossible, at least I hoped so. It must have been as I
suppose; the dream was too powerful, too like a fearful reality,
partially unseated my poor mother's reason." Philip reflected again,
and was then satisfied that his suppositions were correct. "Yes, it must have been so, poor dear mother! how much thou hast
suffered! but thou art now rewarded, and with God." After a few minutes (during which he surveyed the room again and
again with more coolness, and perhaps some indifference, now that he
regarded the supernatural history as not true), Philip took out of his
pocket the written paper found with the key, and read it over--"The
iron cupboard under the buffet farthest from the window." "'Tis well." He took the bunch of keys from off the table, and soon fitted one to
the outside wooden doors which concealed the iron safe. A second
key on the bunch opened the iron doors; and Philip found himself in
possession of a considerable sum of money, amounting, as near as he
could reckon, to ten thousand guilders, in little yellow sacks. "My
poor mother!" thought he; "and has a mere dream scared thee to penury
and want, with all this wealth in thy possession?" Philip replaced the
sacks, and locked up the cupboards, after having taken out of one,
already half emptied, a few pieces for his immediate wants. His
attention was next directed to the buffets above, which, with one
of the keys, he opened; he found that they contained china, silver
flagons, and cups of considerable value. The locks were again turned,
and the bunch of keys thrown upon the table.