Page:Edgar Huntly, or The Sleep Walker.djvu/135

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EDGAR HUNTLY.
119

scattered through it, but found nothing in the shape of man. The cedar chest spoken of by Mr. Huntly, contained old books, and remnants of maps and charts, whose worthlessness unfitted them for accommodation elsewhere: the lid was without hinges or lock. I examined this repository; but there was nothing which attracted my attention.

The way between the kitchen—door and the door of the long-room had no impediments; both were usually unfastened: but the motives by which any stranger to the dwelling, or indeed any one within it, could be prompted to choose this place and hour, for an employment of this kind, were wholly incomprehensible.

When the family rose, enquiries were made, but no satisfaction was obtained: the family consisted only of four persons, my uncle, my two sisters, and myself; I mentioned to them the loss I had sustained, but their conjectures were no less unsatisfactory on this than on the former incident.

There was no end to my restless meditations. Waldegrave was the only being, besides myself, acquainted with the secrets of my cabinet. During his life these manuscripts had been the objects of perpetual solicitude; to gain possession, to destroy or secrete them, was the strongest of his wishes. Had he retained his sensibility on the approach of death, no doubt he would have renewed, with irresistible solemnity, his injunctions to destroy them.

Now, however, they had vanished: there were no materials of conjecture—no probabilities to be weighed, or suspicions to revolve: human artifice or power was unequal to this exploit—means less than preternatural would not furnish a conveyance for this treasure.

It was otherwise with regard to this unseasonable walker: his inducements, indeed, were beyond my power to conceive; but to enter these doors and ascend these stairs demanded not the faculties of any being more than human.

This intrusion and the pillage of my cabinet were contemporary events. Was there no more connection between them than that which results from time? Was not the purloiner of my treasure and the wanderer the same per-

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