Carmilla was leaning on her hand dejectedly; Madame
and I were listening breathlessly.
“Now, my question is this. Have you ever
been suspected of walking in your sleep?”
“Never, since I was very young indeed.”
“But you did walk in your sleep when you were
young?”
“Yes; I know I did. I have been told so
often by my old nurse.”
My father smiled and nodded.
“Well, what has happened is this. You got
up in your sleep, unlocked the door, not leaving the
key, as usual, in the lock, but taking it out and
locking it on the outside; you again took the key out,
and carried it away with you to some one of the five-and-twenty
rooms on this floor, or perhaps upstairs or downstairs.
There are so many rooms and closets, so much heavy
furniture, and such accumulations of lumber, that it
would require a week to search this old house thoroughly.
Do you see, now, what I mean?”
“I do, but not all,” she answered.
“And how, papa, do you account for her finding
herself on the sofa in the dressing room, which we
had searched so carefully?”
“She came there after you had searched it, still
in her sleep, and at last awoke spontaneously, and
was as much surprised to find herself where she was
as any one else. I wish all mysteries were as
easily and innocently explained as yours, Carmilla,”
he said, laughing. “And so we may congratulate
ourselves on the certainty that the most natural explanation
of the occurrence is one that involves no drugging,
no tampering with locks, no burglars, or poisoners,
or witches—nothing that need alarm Carmilla,
or anyone else, for our safety.”
Carmilla was looking charmingly. Nothing could
be more beautiful than her tints. Her beauty
was, I think, enhanced by that graceful languor that
was peculiar to her. I think my father was silently
contrasting her looks with mine, for he said:
“I wish my poor Laura was looking more like
herself”; and he sighed.
So our alarms were happily ended, and Carmilla restored
to her friends.
The Doctor
As Carmilla would not hear of an attendant sleeping
in her room, my father arranged that a servant should
sleep outside her door, so that she would not attempt
to make another such excursion without being arrested
at her own door.
That night passed quietly; and next morning early,
the doctor, whom my father had sent for without telling
me a word about it, arrived to see me.
Madame accompanied me to the library; and there the
grave little doctor, with white hair and spectacles,
whom I mentioned before, was waiting to receive me.
I told him my story, and as I proceeded he grew graver
and graver.
We were standing, he and I, in the recess of one of
the windows, facing one another. When my statement
was over, he leaned with his shoulders against the
wall, and with his eyes fixed on me earnestly, with
an interest in which was a dash of horror.
