A Midnight Adventure

Females often possess presence of mind and the power of self-control under circumstances of eminent peril which seem almost foreign to their nature, and beyond the endurance of a delicate organization. Here is a striking instance of self-command by a lady whose fears must have been powerfully excited, and whose life of affluence had probably never before given her nerves a severer test than is incident to the vexations of domestic care. We copy the adventure, premising, by way of explanation, that the lady was the daughter of a rector, residing in a quiet English country village, and was upon the eve of her marriage. 

The wedding day was to be on the morrow of the day on which our adventure happened. Grand preparations were made for the wedding; and the rector’s fine old plate, and the costly gifts of the bride, were discussed with pride and pleasure at the Hare and Hounds, in the presence of some strangers who had come down to a prize-fight which had taken place in the neighborhood. 

That night Adelaide, who had occupied a separate room from her sister, sat up late—long after the household had retired to rest. She had a long interview with her father, and had been reading a chapter to which he had directed her attention, and since had packed up her jewels. She was consequently dressed when the church clock tolled the hour of midnight. As it ceased, she fancied she heard a low noise like that of a file; she listened, but could distinguish nothing clearly. It might have been made by some of the servants still about, or perhaps it was only the creaking of the old trees. She heard nothing for some minutes but the sighing of the winter wind. House-breakers were mere myths in primitive Tyndon, and the bride elect without a single thought of fear resumed her occupation. She was gazing on a… Read More