than seventeen years.

Philip Vanderdecken resolved that he would examine the fatal
chamber--at once he would know the worst. Should he do it now, or wait
till daylight?--but the key, where was it? His eyes rested upon an old
japanned cabinet in the room: he had never seen his mother open it in
his presence: it was the only likely place of concealment that he was
aware of. Prompt in all his decisions, he took up the candle, and
proceeded to examine it. It was not locked; the doors swung open, and
drawer after drawer was examined, but Philip discovered not the object
of his search; again and again did he open the drawers, but they were
all empty. It occurred to Philip that there might be secret drawers,
and he examined for some time in vain. At last he took out all the
drawers, and laid them on the floor, and lifting the cabinet off its
stand he shook it. A rattling sound in one corner told him that in all
probability the key was there concealed. He renewed his attempts to
discover how to gain it, but in vain. Daylight now streamed through
the casements, and Philip had not desisted from his attempts: at last,
wearied out, he resolved to force the back panel of the cabinet; he
descended to the kitchen, and returned with a small chopping-knife and
hammer, and was on his knees busily employed forcing out the panel,
when a hand was placed upon his shoulder.

Philip started; he had been so occupied with his search and his wild
chasing thoughts, that he had not heard the sound of an approaching
footstep. He looked up and beheld the Father Seysen, the priest of the
little parish, with his eyes sternly fixed upon him. The good man had
been informed of the dangerous state of the widow Vanderdecken, and
had risen at daylight to visit and afford her spiritual comfort.