The housekeeper, pattering on before us from chamber to chamber, was
expatiating upon the magnificence of this picture; the beauty of that
statue; the marvellous richness of these hangings and carpets; the
admirable likeness of the late Marquis by Sir Thomas; of his father, the
fifth Earl, by Sir Joshua, and so on; when, in the very richest room of
the whole castle, Hicks--such was my melancholy companion's name--stopped
the cicerone in her prattle, saying in a hollow voice, "And now, madam,
will you show us the closet where the skeleton is?" The seared
functionary paused in the midst of her harangue; that article was not
inserted in the catalogue which she daily utters to visitors for their
half-crown. Hicks's question brought a darkness down upon the hall where
we were standing. We did not see the room: and yet I have no doubt there
is such an one; and ever after, when I have thought of the splendid
castle towering in the midst of shady trees, under which the dappled deer
are browsing; of the terraces gleaming with statues, and bright with a
hundred thousand flowers; of the bridges and shining fountains and rivers
wherein the castle windows reflect their festive gleams, when the halls
are filled with happy feasters, and over the darkling woods comes the
sound of music;--always, I say, when I think of Castle Bluebeard:--it is
to think of that dark little closet, which I know is there, and which the
lordly owner opens shuddering--after midnight--when he is sleepless and
must go unlock it, when the palace is hushed, when beauties are sleeping
around him unconscious, and revellers are at rest.
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