That I should not
have overheard his steps was only less incredible than that my eyes
had deceived me. But what was now to be done? The house was at
length delivered from this detested inmate. By one avenue might he
again reenter. Was it not wise to bar the lower door? Perhaps he
had gone out by the kitchen door. For this end, he must have
passed through Judith's chamber. These entrances being closed and
bolted, as great security was gained as was compatible with my
lonely condition.
The propriety of these measures was too manifest not to make me
struggle successfully with my fears. Yet I opened my own door with
the utmost caution, and descended as if I were afraid that Carwin
had been still immured in Pleyel's chamber. The outer door was
ajar. I shut it with trembling eagerness, and drew every bolt that
appended to it. I then passed with light and less cautious steps
through the parlor, but was surprised to discover that the kitchen
door was secure. I was compelled to acquiesce in the first
conjecture that Carwin had escaped through the entry.
My heart was now somewhat eased of the load of apprehension.
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