The temerity of adventuring
thus into the jaws of the pest, now appeared to her in glaring colors.
... She cast her eye towards the house opposite to where she now stood.
Her heart drooped on perceiving proofs that the dwelling was still
inhabited. The door was open, and the windows in the second and third
story were raised. Near the entrance, in the street, stood a cart. The
horse attached to it, in his form, and furniture, and attitude, was an
emblem of torpor and decay. His gaunt sides, motionless limbs, his gummy
and dead eyes, and his head hanging to the ground, were in unison with
the craziness of the vehicle to which he belonged, and the paltry and
bedusted harness which covered him. No attendant nor any human face was
visible. The stillness, though at an hour customarily busy, was
uninterrupted, except by the sound of wheels moving at an almost
indistinguishable distance.
She paused for a moment to contemplate this unwonted spectacle. Her
trepidations were mingled with emotions not unakin to sublimity; but the
consciousness of danger speedily prevailed, and she hastened to acquit
herself of her engagement. She approached the door for this purpose, but
before she could draw the bell, her motions were arrested by sounds
from within.
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