Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 162 pages of information about Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman.

Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 162 pages of information about Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman.

“How long I slept I know not; certainly many hours, for I woke at the close of day, in a strange confusion of thought.  I was probably roused to recollection by some one thundering at a huge, unwieldy gate.  Attempting to ask where I was, my voice died away, and I tried to raise it in vain, as I have done in a dream.  I looked for my babe with affright; feared that it had fallen out of my lap, while I had so strangely forgotten her; and, such was the vague intoxication, I can give it no other name, in which I was plunged, I could not recollect when or where I last saw you; but I sighed, as if my heart wanted room to clear my head.

“The gates opened heavily, and the sullen sound of many locks and bolts drawn back, grated on my very soul, before I was appalled by the creeking of the dismal hinges, as they closed after me.  The gloomy pile was before me, half in ruins; some of the aged trees of the avenue were cut down, and left to rot where they fell; and as we approached some mouldering steps, a monstrous dog darted forwards to the length of his chain, and barked and growled infernally.

“The door was opened slowly, and a murderous visage peeped out, with a lantern.  ‘Hush!’ he uttered, in a threatning tone, and the affrighted animal stole back to his kennel.  The door of the chaise flew back, the stranger put down the lantern, and clasped his dreadful arms around me.  It was certainly the effect of the soporific draught, for, instead of exerting my strength, I sunk without motion, though not without sense, on his shoulder, my limbs refusing to obey my will.  I was carried up the steps into a close-shut hall.  A candle flaring in the socket, scarcely dispersed the darkness, though it displayed to me the ferocious countenance of the wretch who held me.

“He mounted a wide staircase.  Large figures painted on the walls seemed to start on me, and glaring eyes to meet me at every turn.  Entering a long gallery, a dismal shriek made me spring out of my conductor’s arms, with I know not what mysterious emotion of terror; but I fell on the floor, unable to sustain myself.

“A strange-looking female started out of one of the recesses, and observed me with more curiosity than interest; till, sternly bid retire, she flitted back like a shadow.  Other faces, strongly marked, or distorted, peeped through the half-opened doors, and I heard some incoherent sounds.  I had no distinct idea where I could be—­I looked on all sides, and almost doubted whether I was alive or dead.

“Thrown on a bed, I immediately sunk into insensibility again; and next day, gradually recovering the use of reason, I began, starting affrighted from the conviction, to discover where I was confined—­I insisted on seeing the master of the mansion—­I saw him—­and perceived that I was buried alive.—­

“Such, my child, are the events of thy mother’s life to this dreadful moment—­Should she ever escape from the fangs of her enemies, she will add the secrets of her prison-house—­and—­”

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
Maria, or the Wrongs of Woman from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.