Dangerous Letters

Chapter Twenty-Seven

[Note from Prof. Collins: Please be advised that the transcription of the following letter has been hindered by the presence of water damage to the original. In the interest of presenting these letters as honestly as possible, I have not attempted a speculator recovery of the missing material (although I would be willing to submit such a reading) but have instead demarcated the areas missing with the notation of [-] and the approximate spacing accordingly. As these letters have been deemed too fragile for an electronic scan, the only way to view the originals is in person. I can make such arrangements if pertinent.]

Letter L

March 15, 17--

Dearest Hannah,

Oh! would to God I may be enabled to feel enough sustained by prayer most holy, solemn, sacred, ardent, rapturous and devoted: quite devoted! For which sheep of the Lord has ever needed the Shephard more? Let me hum a little of the hymn beginning "Gentle Jesus" – yes – yes, for I am certain that my deliverance is near. But [-----------------------------------------------------------------] a notable cessation [----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------] after all. [---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------] labouring in cowardice or regret. I seized upon the angel and the crypt, for those were the clearest of what she had spoken and turned those phrases over in my mind. [--] did not take me long to [-------] cap and outer gown, [------------------------------] this hasty plan I had formulated.

[---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------] Madam L---'s keys. I took a candle too, lit it and shielded the glow, slipping out of my room so silently that I almost fancied myself a spirit of the house at that moment. Out I went but in no great hurry, almost thinking that my theft would have been discovered and, around every corner, the Master was ready to pounce. I am sure that part of me would have preferred that, terrifying as it may be, for the idea of revisiting the tomb filled me with [--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------] I found every excuse to linger at the lawn, then the gates, then the flowerbeds, though I knew each passing moment meant a greater chance that [----------------] exposed.

I paced backwards and forwards on the pavement; turned back – both my eyes and spirit seemed drawn to the gloomy house as if awaiting light and commotion within the grey-hollow filled with rayless cells. Yet I was faced with nothing except the gradual withdrawing of storm clouds, so that the sky expanded before me,—a blue sea slowly absolved from the taint of cloud; the moon ascending it in solemn march; her orb seeming to look up as she left the hill-tops, from behind which she had come, far and farther below her, and aspired to the zenith, midnight dark in its fathomless depth and measureless distance; and for those trembling stars that followed her course; they made my heart tremble, my veins glow.

Taking courage from the moon's appearance, I followed her rays down the path once more to that area I have not visited since the day that I shadowed Villette's secret walk through the garden. I did not need to go much further, however, as I had the key that allowed me to pass through the door tucked into the wall and then I was in the graveyard. There was a noise behind me, and I was startled – went to hide – but it was only the hound lopping towards me, his tail wagging in greeting, unmindful of my misdeeds. He has been [------------------------------------------------------------------------------] shoo him away, back through that door, but he paid me no heed and was too eerie a creature in that semi-darkness for me to approach as directly as I had in the safety of the indoors.

I had a thought as we came to the mausoleum and sought out that gap that I had followed Villette through. Yes – and there it was – even smaller than I recalled. I crouched and found a little loose grey thread, caught in the broken picket – which would have matched the shade of my robe exactly. Just like [-------------------------------------------------------] this was no dream, no conjured vision, I had truly walked this path before. I waited again, having taken my time examining the plot of land for footprints – there were none, but the yesterday's rain would have dispensed with them anyway – but still, no one appeared to accost and order me back into the house.