re described, appeared. She spoke, but her voice was so
full of hesitation, and so near a whisper, that much attention was
needed to make out her words:--Miss Hetty was not at home; she was gone
to town with her _mistress_.

This was a tale not to be credited. How was I to act? She persisted in
maintaining the truth of it.--"Well, then," said I, at length, "tell
Miss Sally that I wish to speak with her. She will answer my purpose
just as well."

Miss Sally was not at home neither. She had gone to town too. They would
not be back, she did not know when; not till night, she supposed. It was
so indeed; none of them wasn't at home; none but she and Nanny in the
kitchen: indeed there wasn't.

"Go tell Nanny to come here; I will leave my message with her." She
withdrew, but Nanny did not receive the summons, or thought proper not
to obey it. All was vacant and still.

My state was singular and critical. It was absurd to prolong it; but to
leave the house with my errand unexecuted would argue imbecility and
folly. To ascertain Clemenza's presence in this house, and to gain an
interview, were yet in my power. Had I not boasted of my intrepidity in
braving denials and commands when they endeavoured to obstruct my
passage to this woman? But here were no obstacles nor prohibition.
Suppose the girl had said truth, that the matron and her daughters were
absent, and that Nanny and herself were the only guardians of the
mansion. So much the better. My design will not be opposed. I have only
to mount the stair, and go from one room to another till I find what I
seek.

There was hazard, as well as plausibility, in this scheme. I thought it
best once more to endeavour to extort information from the girl, and
persuade her to be my guide to whomsoever the house contained. I put my
hand to the bell and rung a brisk peal. No one came. I passed into the
entry, to the foot of a staircase, and to a back-window. Nobody was
within hearing or sight.

Once more I reflected on the rectitude of my intentions, on the
possibility that the girl's assertions might be true, on the benefits of
expedition, and of gaining access to the object of my visit without
interruption or delay. To these considerations was added a sort of
charm, not easily explained, and by no means justifiable, produced by
the very temerity and hazardness accompanying this attempt. I thought,
with scornful emotions, on the bars and hinderances which pride, and
caprice, and del