The clock of the belfry of Cherbury at this moment struck, and Venetia
instantly sprang from her seat. It reminded her of the preciousness
of the present morning. Her mother was indeed absent, but her mother
would return. Before that event a great fulfilment was to occur.
Venetia, still grasping the key, as if it were the talisman of her
existence, looked up to Heaven as if she required for her allotted
task an immediate and special protection; her lips seemed to move, and
then she again quitted her apartment. As she passed through an oriel
in her way towards the gallery, she observed Pauncefort in the avenue
of the park, moving in the direction of the keeper's lodge. This
emboldened her. With a hurried step she advanced along the gallery,
and at length stood before the long-sealed door that had so often
excited her strange curiosity. Once she looked around; but no one was
near, not a sound was heard. With a faltering hand she touched the
lock; but her powers deserted her: for a minute she believed that the
key, after all, would not solve the mystery. And yet the difficulty
arose only from her own agitation. She rallied her courage; once more
she made the trial; the key fitted with completeness, and the
lock opened with ease, and Venetia found herself in a small and
scantily-furnished ante-chamber.
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