 Volume 2 Chapter 3 Part C of The Mysteries of Adolfo. On the following day, Madame Montoni, being alone with Emily, introduced the mention of Count Marano by expressing her surprise that she had not joined the party on the water the preceding evening and had her abrupt departure to Venice. Emily then related what had passed, expressed her concern for the mutual mistake that had occurred between Montoni and herself, and solicited her aunt's kind offices in urging him to give a decisive denial to the Count's further addresses. But she soon perceived that Madame Montoni had not been ignorant of the late conversation when she introduced the present. You have no encouragement to expect from me, said her aunt, in these notions. I've already given my opinion on the subject, and think, Madame Montoni, right in enforcing, by any means, your consent. If young persons will be blind to their interest, and obstantly oppose it, why, the greatest blessings they can have are friends who will oppose their folly. Pray what pretensions of any kind do you think you have to such a match as is now offered you? Not any whatever, Madame, replied Emily, and therefore, at least, suffer me to be happy in my humility. Nainese, it cannot be denied that you have pride enough. My poor brother, your father, had his share of pride too, though, let me add, his fortune did not justify it. Emily, somewhat embarrassed by the indignation which this malevolent illusion to her father excited, and by the difficulty of rendering her answer as temperate as it should be reprehensive, hesitated for some moments in a confusion which highly gratified her aunt. At length, she said, My father's pride, Madame, had a noble object, the happiness which he knew could be derived only from goodness, knowledge, and charity. As it never consisted in his superiority, in point of fortune to some persons, it was not humbled by his inferiority in that respect to others. He never disdained those who were wretched by poverty and misfortune. He did sometimes despise persons who, with many opportunities of happiness, rendered themselves miserable by vanity, ignorance, and cruelty. I shall think at my highest glory to emulate such pride. I do not pretend to understand anything of these high-flown sentiments, Nainese. You have all that glory to yourself. I would teach your little plain sense, and not have you so wise as to despise happiness. That would indeed not be wisdom but folly, said Emily, for wisdom can boast no higher attainment than happiness. But you will allow, Madame, that our ideas of happiness may differ. I cannot doubt that you wish me to be happy, but I must fear you are mistaken in the means of making me so. I cannot boast of a learned education, Nis, such as your father thought proper to give you, and therefore do not pretend to understand all these fine speeches about happiness. I must be contented to understand only common sense, and happy would it have been for you and your father if that had been included in his education. Emily was too much shocked by these reflections on her father's memory, so despise this speech as it deserved. Madame Montoni was about to speak, but Emily quitted the room and retired to her own, where the little spirit she had lately exerted yielded to grief and vexation, and left her only to her tears. From every review of her situation she could derive, indeed, only new sorrow. To the discovery which had just been forced upon her of Montoni's unworthiness she had now to add that of the cruel vanity for the gratification of which her aunt was about to sacrifice her, of the effrontery and cunning with which, at the time that she meditated with sacrifice, she boasted of her tenderness, or insulted her victim, and of the venomous envy which, as it did not scruple to attack her father's character, could scarcely be expected to withhold from her own. During the few days that intervened between this conversation and the departure for Mierenti, Montoni did not once address himself to Emily. His looks sufficiently declared his resentment, but that he should forbid to renew a mention of the subject of it exceedingly surprised her, who was no less astonished that, during three days, Count Morano neither visited Montoni or was named by him. Several conjectures arose in her mind. Sometimes she feared that the dispute between them had been revived and had ended fatally to the count. Sometimes she was inclined to hope that weariness, or disgust at her firm reduction of his suit, had induced him to relinquish it, and, at others, she suspected that he had now recourse the stratagem, and forebore his visits, and prevailed with Montoni to forbear the repetition of his name in the expectation that gratitude and generosity would prevail with her to give him the consent which he could not hope from love. Thus, past the time in vain conjecture, and alternate hopes and fears, till the day arrived when Montoni was to set out for the villa of Mierenti, which, like the preceding ones, neither brought the count or the mention of him. Montoni having determined not to leave Venice till towards evening, that he might avoid the heats, and catch the cool breezes of night, embarked about an hour before sunset with his family in a barge for the Brenta. Emily sat alone near the stern of the vessel, and, as it floated slowly on, watched the gay and lofty city lessening from her view, till its palaces seemed to sink in the distant waves, while its loftier towers and domes, illumined by the declining sun, appeared on the horizon like those far-seen clouds which, in more northern climes, often linger on the western verge, and catch the last light of a summer's evening. Soon after, even these grew dim, and faded in distance from her sight. But she still sat gazing on the vast scene of cloudless sky, and mighty waters, and listening and pleasing awe to the deep-sounding waves, while, as her eyes glanced over the Adriatic towards the opposite shores, which were, however, far beyond the reach of sight. She thought of Greece, and a thousand classical remembrances stealing to her mind. She experienced that pensive luxury which is felt on viewing the scenes of ancient story, and on comparing their present state of silence and solitude with that of their former grandeur and animation. The scenes of the Iliad elapsed in glowing colors to her fancy. Scenes once the haunt of heroes, now lonely and in ruins, but which still shone in the poet's strain in all their youthful splendor. As her imagination painted with melancholy touches the deserted plains of Troy, such as they appeared in this after-day, she reanimated the landscape with the following little story. Stanzas Our Iliad's plains where once the warrior bled, and once the poet raised his deadless strain. Our Iliad's plains, a wary driver, led his stately camels, for the ruined, faint, wide, round a lonely scene his glance he threw, for now the red cloud faded in the west, and twilight or the silent landscape drew her deepening veil, eastward his cause he pressed. There, on the gray horizon's glimmering bound, rose the proud columns of deserted Troy, and wandering shepherds, now a shelter found within those walls where princes want to joy. Beneath the lofty porch the driver passed, then, from his camels heaved the heavy load, part took with them the simple cool repast, and in short vesper gave himself to God. From distant lands with merchandise he came, his all of wealth his patient servants bore, off deep-drawn sighs his anxious wish proclaimed to reach again his happy cottage-door. For there his wife, his little children, dwell, their smiles shall pay the toil of many an hour. Even now warm tears to expectation swell, as fancy o'er his mind extends her power. A death-like stillness reigned, where once the song, the song of heroes, waked the midnight air, save when a solemn murmur rolled along that seemed to say, for future worlds prepare. For time's imperious voice was frequent heard, shaking the marble temple to its full, by hands he long had conquered, vainly reared, and distant ruins answered to his call. While Hamlet slept his camels round him lay, beneath him all his store of wealth was piled, and here his cruise an empty wallet lay, and there the flute that cheered him in the wild, the Robert Tartar on a slumber stole, for o'er the waste that Eve he watched his train, ah, who his thirst of plunder shall control, who calls on him for mercy, calls in vain. A poisoned pognard in his bell he wore, a crush and sword depended at his side, the deathful quiver at his back he bore, and infants at his very look had died. The moon's cold beam athward the temple fell, and to his sleeping prey the tartar led, but soft a startled camel shook his bell, then stretched his limbs and reared his drowsy head. Hamlet awoke, the pognard glitted high, swift from his couch he sprung, and escaped a blow, when from an unknown hand the arrows fly that lay the ruffian in his vengeance low. He groaned, he died, from forth a calm gate, a fearful shepherd, pale and silent crept, who, as he watched his folded flock star late, had marked the rubber steel where Hamlet slept. He feared his own, and saved a stranger's life. Poor Hamlet clasped him to his grateful heart, then roused his camels for the dusty strife, and, with the shepherd, hastened to depart. And now Aurora breathed her freshening gale, and faintly trembles on the eastern cloud, and now the sun from under twilight's veil looks gaily forth, and melts her airy shroud. Wide over the level plains his slanting beams dart their long lines on Ilyan's towered site, the distant helispont with morning gleams, and all's commander winds his waves in light. All Mary sound the camel bells, so gay, and Mary beats font Hamlet's heart, for he, ere the dim evening steals upon the day, his children, wife, and happy home shall see. As Emily approached the shores of Italy, she began to discriminate the rich features and varied colouring of the landscape. The purple hills, groves of orange pine and cypress, shading magnificent villas, and towns rising among vineyards and plantations. The noble Brenta, pouring its broad waves into the sea, now peered, and when she reached its mouth the barge stopped that the horses might be fastened which were now to tow it up to stream. This done Emily gave a last look to the Adriatic and to the dim sail, let from the sky mixed wave dawns on the site. And the barge slowly glided between the green and luxuriant slopes of the river. The grandeur of the Palladian villas that adorned these shores was considerably heightened by the setting rays which threw strong contrasts of light and shade upon the porticoes and long arcades, and beamed a mellow luster upon the orangeries and the tall groves of pine and cypress that overhung the buildings. The scent of oranges, of flowering myrtles, and other odoriferous plants was diffused upon the air, and often from these empowered retreats a strain of music stole on the calm and softened into silence. The sun now sunk below the horizon, Twilight fell over the landscape, and Emily, wrapped in musing silence, continued to watch its features gradually vanishing into obscurity. She remembered her many happy evenings, when, with Sinto bear, she had observed the shades of twilight still overseen as beautiful as this from the gardens of Lavalé, and a tear fell to the memory of her father. Her spirits were softened into melancholy by the influence of the hour, by the low murmur of the wave passing under the vessel, and the stillness of the air that trembled only at intervals with distant music. Why else should she at these moments have looked on her attachment to Valancourt with presages so very afflicting, since she had but lately received letters from him that had suited for a while all her anxieties? It now seemed to her oppressed mind that she had taken leave of him forever, and that the countries which separated them would never more be retraced by her. She looked upon Count Morano with horror, as in some degree the cause of this, but apart from him a conviction, if such that may be called, which arises from no proof, and which she knew not how to account for, seized her mind, that she should never see Valancourt again. Though she knew that neither Morano's solicitations nor Montoni's commands had lawful power to enforce her obedience, she regarded both with a superstitious dread that they would finally prevail. Lost in this melancholy reverie and shedding frequent tears, Emily was at length roused by Montoni, and she followed him to the cabin, where her refreshments were spread, and her aunt was seated alone. The countenance of Madame Montoni was inflamed with a resentment that appeared to be the consequence of some conversation she had held with her husband, who regarded her with a kind of solemn disdain, and both preserved for some time a haughty silence. Montoni then spoke to Emily of Monsieur Canal. You will not, I hope, persist in disclaiming your knowledge of the subject of my letter to him. I had hoped, sir, that it was no longer necessary for me to disclaim it, said Emily. I had hoped from your silence that you was convinced of your error. You have hoped impossibilities, then, replied Montoni. I might as reasonably have expected to find sincerity and uniformity of conduct in one of your sex as you to convict me of error in this affair. Emily blushed and was silent. She now perceived too clearly that she had hoped an impossibility, for where no mistake had been committed no conviction could follow, and it was evident that Montoni's conduct had not been the consequence of mistake but of design. Anxious to escape from conversation which was both afflicting and humiliating to her, she soon returned to the deck and resumed her station near the stern, without apprehension of cold. For no vapor rose from the water, and the air was dry and tranquil. Here, at least, the benevolence of nature allowed her the quiet which Montoni had denied her elsewhere. It was now past midnight. The stars shed a kind of twilight that served to show the dark outline of the shores on either hand and the grey surface of the river, till the moon rose from behind a high palm grove and shed her mellow luster over the scene. The vessel glided smoothly on. Amid the stillness of the hour, Emily heard, now and then, the solitary voice of the bargemen on the bank as they spoke to their horses, while, from a remote part of the vessel, with melancholy song, the sailor soothed beneath the trembling moon the midnight wave. Emily, meanwhile, anticipated her reception by Monsieur et Madame Canal, considered what she should say on the subject of la valet, and then, to withhold her mind for more anxious topics, tried to amuse herself by discriminating the faint drawn features of the landscape reposing in the moonlight. While her fancy thus wandered, she saw, at a distance, a building peeping between the moonlit trees, and, as the barge approached, heard voices speaking, and soon distinguished the lofty portico of a villa, overshadowed by groves of pine and sycamore, which she recollected to be the same that had formerly been pointed out to her as belonging to Madame Canal's relative. The barge stopped at a flight of marble steps, which led up the bank to a lawn. Lights appeared between some pillars beyond the portico. Montoni sent forward his servant, and then disembarked with his family. They found Monsieur et Madame Canal, with a few friends, seated on sofas in the portico, enjoying the cool breeze of the night, and eating fruits and ices, while some of their servants at a little distance on the river's bank were performing a simple serenade. Emily was now accustomed to the way of living in this warm country, and was not surprised to find Monsieur et Madame Canal in their portico, two hours after midnight. The usual salutations being over, the company seated themselves in the portico, and refreshments her brought them from the adjoining hall, where a banquet was spread, and servants attended. When the bustle of this meeting had subsided, and Emily had recovered from the little flutter into which it had thrown her spirits, she was struck with the singular beauty of the hall, so perfectly accommodated to the luxuries of the season. It was a white marble, and the roof, rising into an open cupola, was supported by columns of the same material. Two opposite sides of the apartment, terminating in open porticoes, admitted to the hall a full view of the gardens, and of the river scenery. In the centre, a fountain continually refreshed the air, and seemed to heighten the fragrance that breathed from the surrounding orangeries, while its dashing waters gave an agreeable and soothing sound. A druscan lamps, suspended from the pillars, diffused a brilliant light over the interior part of the hall, leaving the remote porticoes to the softer luster of the moon. Monsieur Canal talked apart to Montoni of his own affairs, in his usual strain of self-importance, boasted of his new acquisitions, and then affected to pity some disappointments which Montoni had lately sustained. Meanwhile the latter, whose pride at least enabled him to despise such vanity as this, and whose discernment at once detected under this assumed pity, the frivolous malignity of Canal's mind, listened to him in contemptuous silence, till he named his niece, and then left the portico and walked away into the gardens. Emily, however, still attended to Madame Canal, who spoke of France, for even the name of her native country was dear to her, and she found some pleasure in looking at a person who had lately been in it. That country, too, was inhabited by Valencourt, and she listened to the mention of it, with a faint hope that he also would be named. Madame Canal, who, when she was in France, had talked with the rapture of Italy, now that she was in Italy, talked with equal praise of France, and endeavoured to excite the wonder and the envy of her auditors by account of places which they had not been happy enough to see. In these descriptions she not only imposed upon them, but upon herself, for she never thought a present pleasure equal to one that was past, and thus the delicious climate, the frequent orangeries, and all the luxuries which surrounded her slept unnoticed, while her fancy wandered over the distant scenes of a northern country. Emily listened in vain for the name of Valencourt. Madame Montoni spoke in her turn of the delights of Venice, and of the pleasure she expected from visiting the fine castle of Montoni on the Apennine, which, let her mention, at least, was merely a retaliating boast, for Emily well knew that her aunt had no taste for solitary grandeur, and particularly for such as the castle of Odolfo promised. Thus the party continued to converse, and, as far as civility would permit, to torture each other by mutual boasts, while they reclined on sofas in the portico, and were environed with delights both from nature and art, by which any honest minds would have been tempered to benevolence, and happy imaginations would have been soothed into enchantment. The dawn, soon after, trembled in the eastern horizon, and the light tints of morning, gradually expanding, showed the beautifully declining forms of the Italian mountains, and the gleaming landscapes stretched at their feet. Then the sunbeams, shooting up from behind the hills, spread over the scene that finds saffron tinge which seems to impart repose to all its touches. The landscape no longer gleamed, all its glowing colours were revealed, except that its remoto features were still softened and united in the mist of distance, whose sweet effect was heightened to Emily by the dark verdure of the pines and suppresses that overarched the foreground of the river. The market people, passing with their boats to Venice, now formed a moving picture on the Brenta. Most of these had little painted awnings to shelter their owners from the sunbeams which, together with the piles of fruit and flowers displayed beneath, and the tasteful simplicity of the peasant girls who watched the rural treasures, rendered them gay and striking objects. The swift movement of the boats down the current, the quick glance of oars in the water, and now and then the passing cores of peasants who reclined under the sail of their little bark, or the tones of some rustic instrument, played by a girl as she sat near her silvent cargo, heightened the animation and festivity of the scene. When Montoni and Micheal Cannell had joined the ladies, the party left the portico for the gardens, where the charming scenery soon withdrew Emily's thoughts from painful subjects. The majestic forms and rich verdure of cypresses should never seem so perfect before. Groves of cedar, lemon and orange, the spirey clusters of the pine and poplar, the luxuriant chestnut and oriental plain threw all their pump of shade over these gardens, while buyers of flowering myrtle and other spicy shrubs mingled their fragrance with that of flowers, whose vivid and various colouring glowed with increased effect beneath the contrasted umbrage of the groves. The air also was continually refreshed by rivulets which, with more taste than fashion, had been suffered to wander among the green recesses. Emily often lingered behind the party to contemplate the distant landscape that closed a vista or that gleamed beneath the dark foliage of the foreground. The spiral summits of the mountains touched with a purple tint broken and steep above but shelving gradually to their base. The open valley, marked by no formal lines of art, and the tall groves of cypress, pine and poplar, sometimes embellished by a ruined villa whose broken columns appeared between the branches of a pine that seemed to droop over their fall. From other parts of the gardens the character of the view was entirely changed and the fine solitary beauty of the landscape shifted for the crowded features and varied colouring of inhabitation. The sun was now gaining fast upon the sky and the party quitted the gardens and retired to repose. End of volume two, chapter three. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. To learn more or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This reading by Andrew Drinkwater from Madison, Wisconsin. The Mysteries of Udolfo, volume two, chapter four. And poor misfortune fuels the lash of vice. Thompson. Emily sees the first opportunity of conversing with Monsiocanel concerning Lavallé. His answers to her inquiries were concise and delivered with the air of a man who is conscious of possessing absolute power and impatient of hearing it questioned. He declared that the disposal of the place was a necessary measure and that she might consider herself indebted to his prudence for even the small income that remained for her. But, however, added he, when this Venetian Count, I have forgot his name, marries you, your present disagreeable state of dependence will cease. As a relation to you, I rejoice in the circumstance, which is so fortunate for you, and I may add, so unexpected by your friends. For some moments, Emily was chilled into silence by this speech. And when she attempted to un-deceive him concerning the purport of the note she had enclosed in Montaignee's letter, he appeared to have some private reason for disbelieving her assertion, and for a considerable time persevered in accusing her of capricious conduct. Being at length, however, convinced that she really disliked Moreno and had positively rejected his suit, his resentment was extravagant, and he expressed it in terms equally pointed and in human. For secretly flattered by the prospect of a connection with a nobleman, whose title he had affected to forget, he was incapable of feeling pity for whatever sufferings of his niece might stand in the way of his ambition. Emily saw at once in his manner all the difficulties that awaited her, and though no oppression could have power to make her renounce Valencor for Moreno, her fortitude now trembled at an encounter with the violent passions of her uncle. She opposed his turbulence and indignation only by the mild dignity of a superior mind, but the gentle firmness of her conduct served to exasperate Stillmore his resentment, since it compelled him to feel his own inferiority, and when he left her, he declared that if she persisted in her folly, both himself and Montaignee would abandon her to the contempt of the world. The calmness she had assumed in his presence failed Emily, when alone, and she wept bitterly and called frequently upon the name of her departed father, whose advice to her from his deathbed she then remembered. Alas, said she, I do indeed perceive how much more valuable is the strength of fortitude than the grace of sensibility, and I will also endeavor to fulfill the promise I then made. I will not indulge in unavailing lamentation, but will try to endure with firmness the oppression I cannot allude. Somewhat soothed by the consciousness of performing a part of Saint Aubert's last request and of endeavoring to pursue the conduct which he would have approved, she overcame her tears, and when the company met at dinner had recovered her usual serenity of countenance. In the cool of the evening, the ladies took the fresco along the bank of the Brenta in Madame Connell's carriage. The state of Emily's mind was in melancholy contrast with the gay groups assembled beneath the shades that overhung this enchanting stream. Some were dancing under the trees, and others reclining on the grass, taking ices and coffee and calmly enjoying the effect of a beautiful evening on a luxuriant landscape. Emily, when she looked at the snow-capped up and in, ascending in the distance, thought of Monteney's castle, and suffered some terror, as he should convey her thither for the purpose of enforcing her obedience. But the thought vanished when she considered that she was as much in his power at Venice as she could be elsewhere. It was moonlight before the party returned to the villa, where supper was spread in the airy hall, which had so much enchanted Emily's fancy on the preceding night. The ladies seated themselves in the portico, till Montenegro, Monteney, and other gentlemen should join them at the table, and Emily endeavored to resign herself to the tranquility of the hour. Presently, a barge stopped at the steps that led into the gardens, and soon after she distinguished the voices of Monteney and Connell, and then that of Morano, who, in the next moment, appeared. His compliments she received in silence, and her cold air seemed at first to discompose him. But he soon recovered his usual gaiety of manner, though the officious kindness of Montseur and Madame Connell, Emily perceived disgusted him. Such a degree of attention she had scarcely believed could be shuned by Montseur Connell, for she had never before seen him otherwise than in the presence of his inferiors or equals. When she could retire to her own apartment, her mind almost involuntarily dwelt on the most probable means of prevailing with the Count to withdraw his suit, and to her liberal mind none appeared more probable than that of acknowledging to him a prior attachment, and throwing herself upon his generosity for a release. When, however, on the following day he renewed his addresses, she shrunk from the adoption of the plans she had formed. There was something so repugnant to her just pride in laying open the secret of her heart to such a man as Morano and ensuing him for compassion that she impatiently rejected this design and wondered that she could have paused upon it for a moment. The rejection of his suit she repeated in the most decisive term she could select, mingling with it a severe center of his conduct. But, though the Count appeared mortified by this, he persevered in the most ardent professions of admiration, so he was interrupted, and Emily released by the presence of Madame Connell. During her stay at this pleasant villa, Emily was thus rendered miserable by the assiduities of Morano, together with the cruelly exerted authority of Monsieur Connell and Montoni, who, with her aunt, seemed now more resolutely determined upon this marriage than they had even appeared to be at Venice. Monsieur Connell finding that both argument and menace were ineffectual in enforcing an immediate conclusion to it, at length riddlingquished his endeavors, and trusted to the power of Montoni and to the course of events at Venice. Emily, indeed, looked to Venice with hope, for there she would be relieved in some measure from the persecution of Morano, who would no longer be an inhabitant of the same house with herself, and from that of Montoni, whose engagements would not permit him to be continually at home. But amidst the pressure of her own misfortunes, she did not forget those of poor Teresa, for whom she pleaded with courageous tenderness to Connell, who promised, in slight and general terms, that she should not be forgotten. Montoni, in a long conversation with Montiou Connell, arranged the plan to be pursued respecting Emily, and Montiou Connell proposed to be at Venice as soon as he should be informed that the nuptials were concluded. It was new to Emily to part with any person, with whom she was connected, without feeling of regret. The moment, however, in which she took leave of Montiou and Madame Connell, was perhaps the only satisfactory one she had known in their presence. Morano returned in Montoni's barge, and Emily, as she watched her gradual approach to that magic city, saw at her side the only person who occasioned her to view it with less than perfect delight. They arrived there about midnight, when Emily was released from the presence of the Count, who, with Montoni, went to a casino, and she was suffered to retire to her own apartment. On the following day, Montoni, in a short conversation which he held with Emily, informed her that he would no longer be trifled with, and that, since her marriage with the Count would be so highly advantageous to her, that Folly only could object to it. And Folly, of such extent, as was incapable of conviction, it should be celebrated without further delay, and, if that was necessary, without her consent. Emily, who had hitherto tried remonstrance, had now recourse to supplication, for distress prevented her from foreseeing that, with a man of Montoni's disposition, supplication would be equally useless. She afterwards inquired by what right he exerted this unlimited authority over her, a question which her better judgment would have withheld her, in a calmer moment, from making, since it could avail her of nothing, and would afford Montoni another opportunity of triumphing over her defenceless condition. By what right cried Montoni with a malicious smile? By the right of my will. If you can allude that, I will not inquire by what right you do so. I now remind you, for the last time, that you are a stranger in a foreign country, and that it is your interest to make me your friend. You know the means. If you compel me to become your enemy, I will venture to tell you that the punishment shall exceed your expectation. You may know I am not to be trifled with. Emily continued for some time after Montoni had left her in a state of despair, or rather stupefaction. A consciousness of misery was all that remained in her mind. In this situation, Madame Montoni found her, at the sound of whose voice Emily looked up, and her aunt, somewhat softened by the expression of despair, that fixed her countenance, spoke in a manner more kind than she had ever yet done. Emily's heart was touched. She shed tears, and, after weeping for some time, recovered sufficient composure to speak on the subject of her distress, and to endeavor to interest Madame Montoni in her behalf. But, though the compassion of her aunt had been surprised, her ambition was not to be overcome, and her present object was to be the aunt of a contest. Emily's efforts, therefore, were as unsuccessful as they had been with Montoni, and she withdrew to her apartment to think and weep alone. How often did she remember the parting scene with Alancourt, and wish that the Italian had mentioned Montoni's character with less reserve? When her mind, however, had recovered from the first shock of this behavior, she considered that it would be impossible for him to compel her alliance with Morano, as she persisted in refusing to repeat any part of the marriage ceremony, and she persevered in her resolution to await Montoni's threatened vengeance, rather than give herself for life to a man whom she must have despised for his present conduct, had she never even loved Alancourt, yet she trembled at the revenge she thus resolved to brave. An affair, however, soon after occurred, which somewhat called off Montoni's attention from Emily, the mysterious visits of Orsino were renewed with more frequency since the return of the former to Venice. There were others, also, besides Orsino, admitted to these midnight councils, and among them, Gavini and Varezi. Montoni became more reserved and austere in his manner than ever, and Emily, if her own interests had not made her regardless of his, might have perceived that something extraordinary was working in his mind. One night, on which a council was not held, Orsino came in great agitation of spirits and dispatched his confidential servant to Montoni, who was at a casino, desiring that he would return home immediately, but charging the servant not to mention his name. Montoni obeyed the summons, and on meeting Orsino was informed of the circumstances that occasioned his visit and his visible alarm, with the part of which he was already acquainted. A Venetian nobleman who had, on some late occasion, provoked the hatred of Orsino had been waylaid and ponyard by hired assassins, and, as the murdered person was of the first connections, the senate had taken up the affair. One of the assassins was now apprehended, who had confessed that Orsino was his employer in the Atrocious Deed, and the latter informed of his danger had now come to Montoni to consult the measures necessary to favor his escape. He knew that, at this time, the officers of the police were upon the watch for him, all over the city. To leave it at present, therefore, was impracticable, and Montoni consented to secret him for a few days till the vigilance of justice should relax, and then to assist him in quitting Venice. He knew the danger he himself incurred by permitting Orsino to remain in his house, but such was the nature of his obligations to this man, that he did not think it prudent to refuse him an asylum. Such was the person whom Montoni had admitted to his confidence, and for whom he felt as much friendship as was compatible with his character. While Orsino remained concealed at his house, Montoni was unwilling to attract public observation by the nuptials of Count Morano, but this obstacle was, in a few days, overcome by the departure of his criminal visitor, and he then informed Emily that her marriage was to be celebrated on the following morning. To her repeated assurances that it should not take place, he replied only by a malignant smile, and telling her that the Count and a priest would be at his house early in the morning, he advised her no further to dare his resentment by opposition to his will and her own interest. I am now going out for the evening, said he. Remember that I shall give your hand to Count Morano in the morning. Emily, having ever since his late threats expected that her trials would at length arrive to this crisis, was less shocked by the declaration than she otherwise would have been, and she endeavored to support herself by the belief that the marriage could not be valid so long as she refused before the priest to repeat any part of the ceremony. Yet, as the moment of trial approached, her long harassed spirits shrunk almost equally from the encounter of his vengeance, and from the hand of Count Morano. She was not even perfectly certain of the consequence of her steady refusal at the altar, and she trembled more than ever at the power of Montoni, which seemed unlimited as his will, for she saw that he would not scruple to transgress any law if by doing so he could accomplish his project. While her mind was thus suffering, and in a state little short of distraction, she was informed that Morano had asked permission to see her, and the servant had scarcely departed with an excuse before she repented that she had sent one. In the next moment, reverting to her former design and determining to try whether ex-postulation and entreaty would not succeed, where a refusal and a just disdain had failed, she recalled the servant, and sending a different message prepared to go down to the count. The dignity and assumed composure with which she met him, and the kind of pensive resignation that softened her countenance were circumstances not likely to induce him to relinquish her, serving as they did to hide in a passion which had already intoxicated his judgment. He listened to all she said with an appearance of complacency, and a wish to oblige her, but his resolution remained invariably the same, and he endeavored to win her admiration by every insinuating art he so well knew how to practice. Being at length assured that she had nothing to hope from his justice, she repeated in a solemn and impressive manner her absolute rejection of his suit, and quitted him with an assurance that her refusal would be effectually maintained against every circumstance that could be imagined for subduing it. A just pride had restrained her tears in his presence, but now they flowed from the fullness of her heart. She often called upon the name of her late father, and often dwelt with ununderable anguish on the idea of valankur. She did not go down to supper, but remained alone in her apartment, sometimes euling to the influence of grief and terror, and at others, endeavouring to fortify her mind against them, and to prepare herself to meet with composed courage the scene of the following morning, when all the stratagem of Morano and the violence of Monteny would be united against her. The evening was far advanced when Mara Monteny came to her chamber with some bridal ornaments which the Count had sent to Emily. She had, this day, purposefully avoided her niece, perhaps because her usual insensibility failed her, and she feared to trust herself with a view of Emily's distress. Or possibly, though her conscience was seldom audible, it now reproached her with her conduct to her brother's orphaned child, whose happiness had been entrusted to her care by a dying father. Emily could not look at these presents, and made a last, though almost hopeless, effort to interest the compassion of Madame Monteny, who, if she did feel any degree of pity or remorse, successfully concealed it, and reproached her niece with folly in being miserable concerning a marriage which ought only to make her happy. I am sure, said she, if I was unmarried and the Count had proposed to me, I should have been flattered by the distinction, and if I should have been so, I am sure, niece, you, who have no fortune, ought to feel yourself highly honoured and shew a proper gratitude and humility towards the Count for his condescension. I am often surprised, I must own, to observe how humbly he deports himself to you, notwithstanding the haughty airs you give yourself. I wonder he has patience to humour you so. If I was he, I know, I should often be ready to reprehend you, and to make you know yourself a little better. I would not have flattered you, I can tell you, for it is this absurd flattery that makes you fancy yourself of so much consequence that you think nobody can deserve you, and I often tell the Count so, for I have no patience to hear him pay you such extravagant compliments which you believe every word of. Your patience, madame, cannot suffer more cruelly on such occasions than my own, said Emily. Oh, that is all mere affectation, rejoined her aunt. I know that his flattery delights you, and makes you so vain that you think you have the whole world at your feet, but you are very much mistaken. I can assure you, niece, you will not meet with such suitors as the Count. Every other person would have turned upon his heel and left you to repent at your leisure long ago. Oh, that the Count had resembled every other person then, said Emily with a heavy sigh. It is happy for you that he does not, rejoined madame Montoni, and what I am now saying is from pure kindness. I am endeavoring to convince you of your good fortune, and to persuade you to submit to necessity with a good grace. It is nothing to me, you know, whether you like this marriage or not, for it must be. What I say, therefore, is from pure kindness. I wish to see you happy, and it is your own fault if you are not so. I would ask you now, seriously and calmly, what kind of match you can expect, since a Count cannot content your ambition. I have no ambition, whatever, madame, replied Emily. My only wish is to remain in my present station. Oh, that is speaking quite from the purpose, said her aunt. I see you are still thinking of Montiou of Alancourt. Pray get rid of all those fantastic notions about love and this ridiculous pride, and be something like a reasonable creature. But, however, this is nothing to the purpose, for your marriage with the Count takes place tomorrow. You know, whether you approve it or not. The Count will be trifled with no longer. Emily made no attempt to reply to this curious speech. She felt it would be mean, and she knew it would be useless. Madame Montoni laid the Count's presence upon the table, on which Emily was leaning, and then, desiring she would be ready early in the morning, paid her good night. Good night, madame, said Emily with a deep sigh, as the door closed upon her aunt, and she was left once more to her own sad reflections. For some time, she sat so lost in thought, as to be wholly unconscious where she was, at length, raising her head, and looking round the room, its gloom and profound stillness awed her. She fixed her eyes on the door, through which her aunt had disappeared, and listened anxiously for some sound that might relieve the deep dejection of her spirits. But it was past midnight, and all the family except the servant who sat up for Montoni had retired to bed. Her mind, long harassed by distress, now yielded to imaginary terrors. She trembled to look into the obscurity of her spacious chamber, and feared she knew not what. A state of mind which continued so long that she would have called up Annette, her aunt's woman, had her fears permitted her to rise from her chair to cross the apartment. These melancholy illusions at length began to disperse, and she retired to her bed. Not to sleep, for that was scarcely possible, but to try, at least, to quiet her disturbed fancy, and to collect strength of spirit sufficient to bear her through the scene of the approaching morning. End of Volume 2, Chapter 4. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Andrew Drinkwater in Madison, Wisconsin, November 15, 2007 The Mysteries of Ludolfo by Ann Radcliffe, Volume 2, Chapter 5, Part A Dark power with shuddering meek, submitted thought. Be mine to read the visions old, which thy awakening bards have told, and lest they meet my blessed view, hold each strange tale devoutly true. Collins Ode to Fear Emily was recalled from a kind of slumber into which she had, at length, sunk by a quick knocking at her chamber door. She started up in terror, for Montenie and Count Morano instantly came to her mind. But, having listened in silence for some time, and recognizing the voice of Annette, she rose and opened the door. What brings you hither so early, said Emily, trembling excessively. She was unable to support herself and sat down on the bed. Dear Mamacelle, said Annette, do not look so pale. I am quite frightened to see you. Here is a fine bustle below stairs, all the servants running to and fro, and none of them fast enough. Here is a bustle, indeed, all of a sudden, and nobody knows for what. Who is below besides them, said Emily. Annette, do not trifle with me. Not for the world, Mamacelle. I would not trifle for the world, but one cannot help making one's remarks. And there is a signor in such a bustle as I never saw him before. And he has sent me to tell you, ma'am, to get ready immediately. Good God, support me, cried Emily, almost fainting. Count Morano is below then? No, Mamacelle. He is not below that I know of, replied Annette. Only his Excellenza sent me to desire you would get ready directly to leave Venice, for that the gondolas would be at the steps of the canal in a few minutes. But I must hurry back to my lady, who is just at her wit's end, and knows not which way to turn for haste. Explain, Annette, explain the meaning of all this before you go, said Emily, so overcome with surprise and timid hope that she had scarcely breath to speak. Name, Mamacelle. That is more than I can do. I only know that the signor is just come home in a very ill humor. That he has had us all called out of our beds, and tells us we are all to leave Venice immediately. His Count Morano to go with the signor, said Emily, and with her are we going. I know neither, ma'am, for certain, but I heard Ludovico say something about going after we get to Terraferma, to the signor's castle among some mountains that he talked of. The Apennine, said Emily, eagerly. Oh, then I have little to hope. That is the very place, ma'am. But cheer up, and do not take it so much to heart, and think what a little time you have to get ready in, and how impatient the signor is. Holy Saint Mark, I hear the oars on the canal, and now they come nearer, and now they are dashing at the steps below. It is the gondola, sure enough. Annette hastened from the room, and Emily prepared for this unexpected flight, as fast as her trembling hands would permit, not perceiving that any change in her situation could possibly be for the worse. She had scarcely thrown her books and clothes into her traveling trunk, when, receiving a second summons, she went down to her aunt's dressing room, where she found Montenille impatiently reproving his wife for delay. He went out soon after to give some further orders to his people, and Emily then inquired the occasion of this hasty journey, but her aunt appeared to be as ignorant as herself, and to undertake the journey with more reluctance. The family at length embarked, but neither Count Morano nor Cavini was of the party. Somewhat revived by observing this, Emily, when the gondolieri dashed their oars in the water and put off from the steps of the portico, felt like a criminal who received a short reprieve. Her heart beat yet lighter when they emerged from the canal into the ocean, and lighter still when they skimmed past the walls of St. Mark without having stopped to take up Count Morano. The dawn now began to tint the horizon, and to break upon the shores of the Adriatic. Emily did not venture to ask any questions of Montenille, who sat for some time in gloomy silence, and then rolled himself up in his cloak as if to sleep, while Madame Montenille did the same. But Emily, who could not sleep, undrew one of the little curtains of the gondola and looked out upon the sea. The rising dawn now enlightened the mountaintops of Friuli, but their lower sides and the distant waves that rolled at their feet were still in deep shadow. Emily sunk in tranquil melancholy, watched the strengthening light spreading upon the ocean, shooing successively Venice and her islets, and the shores of Italy, along which boats with their pointed Latin sails began to move. The gondolieri were frequently hailed at this early hour by the market people as they glided towards Venice, and the lagoon soon displayed a gay scene of innumerable little barks passing from terra firma with provisions. Emily gave a last look to that splendid city, but her mind was then occupied by considering the probable events that awaited her in the scenes to which she was removing and with conjectures concerning the motive of this sudden journey. It appeared upon calmer consideration that Montenille was removing her to his occluded castle because he could there, with more probability of success, attempt to terrify her into obedience, or that, should its gloomy and sequestered scenes fail of this effect, her forced marriage with the Count could there be solemnized with the secrecy which was necessary to the honor of Montenille. The little spirit which this reprieve had recalled now began to fail, and when Emily reached the shore her mind had sunk into all its former depression. Montenille did not embark on the Brenta, but pursued his way in carriages across the country towards the Apennine, during which journey his manner to Emily was so particularly severe that this alone would have confirmed her late conjecture had any such confirmation been necessary. Her senses were now dead to the beautiful country through which she traveled, sometimes she was compelled to smile at the naivete of Annette in her remarks on what she saw and sometimes to sigh as a scene of peculiar beauty recalled Valencor to her thoughts, who was indeed seldom absent from them and of whom she could never hope to hear in the solitude to which she was hastening. At length the travelers began to ascend among the Apennine, the immense pine forests which at that period overhung these mountains and between which the road wound excluded all view but of the cliffs aspiring above except that now and then an opening through the dark woods allowed the eye a momentary glimpse of the country below. The gloom of these shades, their solitary silence, except when the breeze swept over their summits, the tremendous precipices of the mountains that came partially to the eye each assisted to raise the solemnity of Emily's feelings into awe. She saw only images of gloomy grandeur or a dreadful sublimity around her. Other images equally gloomy and equally terrible gleamed on her imagination. She was going she scarcely knew with her under the dominion of a person from whose arbitrary disposition she had already suffered so much to marry perhaps a man who possessed neither her affection or esteem or to endure beyond the hope of sucker whatever punishment revenge and that Italian revenge might dictate. The more she considered what might be the motive of the journey the more she became convinced that it was for the purpose of concluding her nuptials with Count Morano with that secrecy which her resolute resistance had made necessary to the honor if not the safety of Montenie. From the deep solitudes into it she was emerging and from the gloomy castle of which she had heard some mysterious hints her sick heart recoiled in despair and she experienced that though her mind was already occupied by peculiar distress it was still alive to the influence of new and local circumstance why else did she shudder at the idea of this desolate castle as the travelers still ascended among the pine forests steep rows over steep the mountains seem to multiply as they went and what was the summit of one eminence proved to be only the base of another. At length they reached a little plain where the drivers stopped to rest the mules once a scene of such extent and magnificence opened below as drew even from Meda and Montenie a note of admiration. Emily lost for a moment her sorrows in the immensity of nature beyond the amphitheater of mountains the treacher below whose tops appeared as numerous almost as the waves of the sea and whose feet were concealed by the forests extended the Campania of Italy where cities and rivers and woods and all the glow of cultivation were mingled in gay confusion the Adriatic bounded the horizon into which the Poe and the Brenta after winding through the whole extent of the landscape poured their fruitful waves. Emily gazed long on the splendors of the world she was quitting of which the whole magnificent seemed thus given to her sight only to increase her regret on leaving it for her Valancourt alone was in that world to him alone her heart turned and for him alone fell her bitter tears from this sublime scene the travelers continued to ascend among the pines so they entered a narrow pass of the mountains which shut out every feature of the distant country and in its stead exhibited only tremendous cracks impending over the road where no vestige of humanity or even of vegetation appeared except here and there the trunk and scabed branches of an oak that hung nearly headlong from the rock into which its strong roots had fastened this pass which led into the heart of the Apennine at length open today and a scene of mountains stretched in long perspective as wild as any the travelers had yet passed still vast pines forests hung upon their base and crowned the ridgy precipice that rose perpendicularly from the veil while above the rolling mists caught the some beams and touched their cliffs with all the magical coloring of light and shade the scene seen perpetually changing and its features to assume new forms as the winding road brought them to the eye in different attitudes while the shifting vapors now partially concealing their minuter beauties and now illuminating them with splendid tints assisted the illusions of the site though the deep valleys between these mountains were for the most part clothed with pines sometimes an abrupt opening presented a perspective of only barren rocks with a cataract flashing from their summit among broken cliffs till its waters reaching the bottom foamed along with unceasing fury and sometimes pastoral scenes exhibited their green delights in the narrow veils smiling amid surrounding horror their herds and flocks of goats and sheep browsing under the shade of hanging woods and the shepherd's little cabin reared on the margin of a clear stream presented a sweet picture of repose wild and romantic as were these scenes their character had far less of the sublime that had those of the Alps which guard the entrance of Italy. Emily was often elevated but seldom felt those emotions of indescribable awe which she had so continually experienced in her passage over the Alps towards the close of day the road wound into a deep valley mountains whose shaggy steeps appeared to be inaccessible almost surrounded it to the east of vista opened that exhibited the aponeen in their darkest horrors and the long perspective of retiring summits rising over each other their ridges closed with pines exhibited a stronger image of grandeur than any Emily had yet seen the sun had just sunk below the top of the mountain she was descending whose long shadow stretched the thwart the valley but his sloping rays shooting through an opening of the cliffs touched with a yellow gleam the summits of the forest that hung upon the opposite steeps and streamed in full splendor upon the towers and battlements of a castle that spread its extensive ramparts along the brow of a precipice above the splendor of these illumined objects was heightened by the contrast and shade which involved the valley below there said Monteney speaking for the first time in several hours is Udolfo Emily gazed with melancholy awe upon the castle which he understood to be Monteney's for though it was now lighted up by the setting sun the gothic greatness of its features and its moldering walls of dark gray stone rendered it a gloomy and sublime object as she gazed the light died away on its walls leaving a melancholy purple tint which spread deeper and deeper as the thin vapor crept up the mountain while the battlements above were still tipped with splendor from those two the rays soon faded and the whole edifice was invested with the solemn duskiness of evening silent lonely and sublime it seemed to stand the sovereign of the scene and to frown defiance on all who dared to invade its solitary reign as the twilight deepened its features became more awful in obscurity and Emily continued to gaze till its clustering towers were a lone scene rising over the tops of the woods beneath whose thick shade the carriages soon after began to ascend the extent and darkness of these tall woods awakened terrific images in her mind and she almost expected to see bendy tea start up from under the trees at length the carriages emerged upon a heathy rock and soon after reached the castle gates where the deep tone of the portal bell which was struck upon to give notice of their arrival increased the fearful emotions that had assailed Emily while they waited till the servant within should come to open the gates she anxiously surveyed the edifice but the gloom that overspread it allowed her to distinguish little more than a part of its outline with the massive walls of the ramparts and to know that it was vast ancient and dreary from the parts she saw she judged of the heavy strength and extent of the whole the gateway before her leading into the corpse was of gigantic size and was defended by two round towers crowned by overhanging turrets and battled where instead of banners now waved long grass and wild plants that had taken root among the moldering stones and which seemed to sigh as the breeze rolled past over the desolation around them the towers were united by a curtain pierced and embattled also below which appeared the pointed arch of a huge portcullis surmounting the gates from these the walls of the ramparts extended to the other towers overlooking the precipice whose shattered outline appearing on a gleam that lingered in the west told of the ravages of war beyond these all was lost in the obscurity of evening while Emily gazed with awe upon the scene footsteps were heard within the gates and the undrawing of bolts after which an ancient servant of the castle appeared forcing back the huge folds of the portal to admit his lord as the carriage wheels rolled heavily under the portcullis Emily's heart sunk and she seemed as if she was going into her prison the gloomy court into which she passed served to confirm the idea and her imagination ever awake to circumstance suggested even more terrors than her reason could justify another gate delivered them into the second court grass grown and more wild than the first where as she surveyed through the twilight its desolation its lofty walls over topped with brianie moss and nightshade and the embattled towers that rose above long suffering and murder came to her thoughts one of those instantaneous and unaccountable convictions which sometimes conquer even strong minds impress her with its horror the sentiment was not diminished when she entered an extensive gothic hall obscured by the gloom of evening which a light glimmering at a distance through a long perspective of arches only rendered more striking as the servant brought the lamp nearer partial gleams fell upon the pillars and the pointed arches forming a strong contrast with their shadows that stretched along the pavement and the walls the sudden journey of montenny had prevented his people from making any other preparations for his reception then couldn't be had in the short interval since the arrival of the servant who had been sent forward from venice and this in some measure may account for the air of extreme desolation that everywhere appeared the servant who came to light montenny bowed in silence and the muscles of his countenance relaxed with no symptom of joy montenny noticed a salutation by a slight motion of his hand and passed on while his lady following and looking round with a degree of surprise and discontent where she seemed fearful of expressing and emily surveying the extent and grandeur of the hall intimate wonder approached a marble staircase the arches here open to a lofty vault from the center of which hung a tripod lamp which a servant was hastily lighting and the rich fretwork of the roof a corridor leading into several upper apartments and a painted window stretching nearly from the pavement to the ceiling of the hall became gradually visible having crossed the foot of the staircase and passed through an anti room they entered a spacious apartment whose walls wainscotted with black larch wood the growth of the neighboring mountains were scarcely distinguishable from darkness itself bring more light said montenny as he entered the servant setting down his lamp was withdrawing to obey him when madame montenny observing at the evening air of this mountainous region was cold and that she should like a fire montenny ordered that wood might be brought while he paced the room with thoughtful steps and madame montenny sat silently on a couch at the upper end of it waiting till the servant returned emily was observing the singular solemnity and desolation of the apartment viewed as it now was by the glimmer of the single lamp placed near a large venetian mirror that duskily reflected the scene with the tall figure of montenny passing slowly along his arms folded and his countenance shaded by the plume that waved in his hat from the contemplation of this scene emily's mind proceeded to the apprehension of what she might suffer in it till the remembrance of volancor far far distant came to her heart and softened it into sorrow a heavy sigh escaped her but trying to conceal her tears she walked away to one of the high windows that opened upon the ramparts below which spread the woods she had passed in her approach to the castle but the nightshade sat deeply on the mountains beyond and their indented outline alone could be faintly traced on the horizon where a red streak yet glimmered in the west the valley between was sunk in darkness the scene within upon which emily turned on the opening of the door was scarcely less gloomy the old servant who had received them at the gates now entered bending under a load of pine branches while two of montenny's venetian servants followed with lights your exhalenza is welcome to the castle said the old man as he raised himself from the hearth where he had laid the wood it has been a lonely place a long while but you will excuse it senior knowing we had but short notice it is near two years come next feast of saint mark since your exhalenza was within these walls you have a good memory old carlo said montenny it is there about and how has thou contrived to live so long a well a day sir with much ado the cold winds that blow through the castle in winter are almost too much for me and i thought sometimes of asking your exhalanza to let me leave the mountains and go down into the lowlands but i don't know how it is i am lost to quit these old walls i have lived in so long well how have you gone on in the castle since i left it said montenny why much as usual senior only it wants a good deal of repairing there is a north tower some of the bandelments have tumbled down and had liked one day to have knocked my poor wife god rest her soul on the head your exhalenza must know well but the repairs interrupted montenny i the repairs said carlo a part of the roof of the great hall has fallen in and all the winds from the mountains rushed through it last winter and whistled through the whole castle so that there was no keeping oneself warm beware one would there my wife and i used to sit shivering over a great fire in one corner of the little hall ready to die with cold and but there are no more repairs wanted said montenny impatiently oh lord your exhalenza yes the wall of the rampart has tumbled down in three places then the stairs that lead to the west gallery have been a long time so bad that it is dangerous to go up them and the passage leading to the great oak chamber that overhangs the north rampart one night last winter i ventured to go there myself and your exhalenza well well enough of this said montenny with quickness i will talk more with the tomorrow the fire was now lighted carlo swept the hearth placed chairs wiped the dust from a large marble table that stood near it and then left the room montenny and his family drew around the fire meta montenny made several attempts at conversation but his sullen answers repulsed her while emily sat endeavoring to acquire courage enough to speak to him at length in a tremulous voice she said may i ask sir the motive of this sudden journey after a long pause she recovered sufficient courage to repeat the question it does not suit me to answer inquiries said montenny nor does it become you to make them time may unfold them all but i desire i may be no further harassed and i recommend it to you to retire to your chamber and to endeavor to adopt a more rational conduct than that of yielding to fancies and to a sensibility which to call it by the gentlest name is only a weakness emily rose to withdraw good night madame said she to her aunt with an assumed composure that could not disguise her emotion good night my dear said madame montenny in a tone of kindness which her niece had never before heard from her and the unexpected endearment brought tears to emily's eyes she curtsied to montenny and was retiring but you do not know the way to your chamber said her aunt montenny called the servant who waited in the ante room and bade him send madame montenny's woman with whom in a few minutes emily withdrew end of volume two chapter five part a the mysteries of udolfo by andred cliff volume two chapter five part b do you know which is my room said she to annette as they crossed the hall yes i believe i do mamazelle but this is such a strange rambling place i've been lost in it already they call it the double chamber over the south rampart i went up this great staircase to it my lady's room is at the other end of the castle emily ascended the marble staircase and came to the corridor as they passed through which annette resumed her chat what a wild lonely place this is ma'am i shall be quite frightened to live in it how often and often i have wished myself in france again i little thought when i came with my lady to see the world that i should ever be shut up in such a place as this or i would never have left my own country this way mamazelle down this turning i can almost believe in giants again and such like for this is just like one of their castles and some night or other i suppose i shall see fairies too hopping about in that great old hall that looks more like a church with its huge pillars than anything else yes said emily smiling and glad to escape from more spurious thought if we come to the corridor about midnight and look down into the hall we shall certainly see it illuminated with a thousand lamps and the fairies tripping in gay circles to the sound of delicious music for it is in such places as this you know that they come to hold their revels but i'm afraid annette that you will not be able to pay the necessary penance for such a sight and if once they hear your voice the whole scene will vanish in an instant oh if you will bear me company mamazelle i will come to the corridor this very night and i promise you i will hold my tongue it shall not be my fault if the show vanishes but do you think they will come i cannot promise that with certainty but i will venture to say it will not be your fault if the enchantment should vanish well mamazelle that is saying more than i expected of you but i am not so much afraid of fairies as of ghosts and they say there are a plentiful many about the castle now i should be frightened to death if i should chance to see any of them but hush mamazelle walk softly i have thought several times something passed by me ridiculous said emily you must not indulge us fancies oh man they are not fancies for odd i know benetto says these dismal galleries and halls are fit for nothing but ghosts to live in and i barely believe if i live long in them i shall turn into one myself i hope said emily you will not suffer senor montanie to hear these weak fears they would highly displease him what you know then mamazelle all about it rejoined in that no no i know better than to do so though if the senior can sleep sound nobody else in the castle has any right to lie awake i'm sure emily did not appear to notice this remark down this passage mamazelle this leads to a back staircase oh if i see anything i shall be frightened out of my wits that will scarcely be possible said emily smiling as she followed the winding of the passage which opened into another gallery and then annette perceiving that she had missed her way while she had been so eloquently haranguing on ghosts and fairies wandered about through other passages and galleries till at length frightened by their intricacies and desolation she called aloud for assistance but they were beyond the hearing of the servants who were on the other side of the castle and emily now opened the door of a chamber on the left oh do not go in there mamazelle said annette you will only lose yourself further bring the light forward said emily we may possibly find our way through these rooms annette stood at the door in an attitude of hesitation with the light held up to shoe the chamber but the feeble rays spread through not half of it why do you hesitate said emily let me see whether this room leads annette advanced reluctantly it opened into a suite of spacious and ancient apartments some of which were hung with tapestry and others wane scotted with cedar and black larchwood what furniture there was seemed to be almost as old as the rooms and retained an appearance of grandeur though covered with dust and dropping to pieces with the dams and with age how cold these rooms are mamazelle said annette nobody has lived in them for many many years they say do let us go they may open upon the great staircase perhaps said emily passing on till she came to a chamber hung with pictures and took the light to examine that of a soldier on horseback in the field of battle he was darting his spear upon a man who lay under the feet of the horse and who held up one hand in a supplicating attitude the soldier whose beaver was up regarded him with a look of vengeance and the countenance with that expression struck emily as resembling montani she shuddered and turned from it passing the light hastily over several other pictures she came to one concealed by a veil of black silk the singularity of the circumstance struck her and she stopped before it wishing to remove the veil and examine what could thus carefully be concealed but somewhat want encourage holy virgin what can this mean explained annette this is surely the picture they told me of at venice what picture said emily why a picture a picture replied annette hesitatingly but i never could make out exactly what it was about either remove the veil annette what i man mesel i not for the world emily turning round saw annette's countenance grow pale and pray what have you heard of this picture to terrify you so my good girl said she nothing man mesel i've heard nothing only let us find our way out certainly but i wish first to examine the picture take the light annette while i lift the veil annette took the light and immediately walked away with it disregarding emily's call to stay who not choosing to be left alone in the dark chamber at length followed her what is the reason of this annette said emily when she overtook her what have you heard concerning that picture which makes you so unwilling to stay when i bid you i don't know what is the reason man mesel replied annette nor anything about the picture only i have heard there is something very dreadful belonging to it and that it has been covered up in black ever since and that nobody has looked at it for a great many years and it somehow has to do with the owner of this castle before senior montany came to the possession of it and well annette said emily smiling i perceive it is as you say that you know nothing about the picture no nothing indeed man mesel well they made me promise never to tell but well rejoin emily who observed that she was struggling between her inclination to reveal a secret and her apprehension for the consequence i will inquire no further no pray man do not lest you should tell all interrupted emily annette blushed and emily smiled and they passed on to the extremity of this suite of apartments and found themselves after some further perplexity once more at the top of the marble staircase where annette left emily while she went to call one of the servants of the castle to shoo them to the chamber for which they had been seeking while she was absent emily's thoughts returned to the picture and unwillingness to tamper with the integrity of a servant had checked her inquiries on this subject as well as concerning some alarming hints which annette had dropped respecting montany though her curiosity was entirely awakened and she had perceived that her questions might easily be answered she was now however inclined to go back to the apartment and examine the picture but the loneliness of the hour and of the place with the melancholy silence that reigned around her conspired with a certain degree of awe excited by the mystery attending this picture to prevent her she determined however when the daylight should have reanimated her spirits to go through there and remove the veil as she leaned from the corridor over the staircase and her eyes wandered round she again observed with wonder the vast strength of the walls now somewhat decayed and the pillars of solid marble that rose from the hall and supported the roof a servant now appeared with annette and conducted emily to her chamber which was in a remote part of the castle and at the very end of the corridor from whence the suite of apartments opened through which they had been wandering the lonely aspect of her room made emily unwilling that annette should leave her immediately and the dampness of it chilled her with more than fear she begged catarina the servant of the castle to bring some wood and light a fire hi lady it's many a year since a fire was lighted here said catarina you need not tell us that good woman said annette every room in this castle feels like a well i wonder how you can try to live here for my part i wish myself at venice again emily waved her hand for catarina to fetch the wood i wonder ma'am why they call this the double chamber said annette while emily surveyed it in silence and saw that it was lofty and spacious like the other she had seen and like many of them too its walls lined with dark larchwood the bed and other furniture was very ancient and had an air of gloomy grandeur like all she had seen in the castle one of the high casements which she opened overlooked a rampart but the view beyond was hid in darkness in the presence of annette emily tried to support her spirits and to restrain the tears which every now and then came to her eyes she wished much to inquire when count morano was expected at the castle but an unwillingness to ask unnecessary questions and to mention family concerns to a servant withheld her meanwhile annette's thoughts were engaged upon another subject she dearly loved the marvelous and had heard of a circumstance connected with the castle that highly gratified this taste having been enjoined not to mention it her inclination to tell it was so strong that she was every instant on the point of speaking what she had heard such a strange circumstance too and to be obliged to conceal it was a severe punishment but she knew that montanis might impose one much severer and she feared to incur it by offending him carolina now brought the wood and its bright blaze dispelled for a while the gloom of the chamber she told annette that her lady had inquired for her and emily was once again left to her own sad reflections her heart was not yet hardened against the stern manners of montanis and she was nearly as much shocked now as she had been when she first witnessed them the tenderness and affection to which she had been accustomed till she lost her parents had made her particularly sensible to any degree of unkindness and such a reverse as this no apprehension had prepared her to support to call off her attention from subjects that pressed heavily on her spirits she rose and again examined her room and its furniture as she walked around it she passed a door that was not quite shut and perceiving that it was not the one through which she had entered she brought the light forward to discover whether it led she opened it and going forward she had nearly fallen down a steep narrow staircase set wand from it between two stone walls she wished to know to what it led and was the more anxious since it communicated so immediately with her apartment but in the present state of her spirits she wanted courage to venture into the darkness alone closing the door therefore she endeavored to fasten it but upon further examination perceived that it had no bolts on the chamber side though it had two on the other by placing a heavy chair against it she in some measure remedied the defect yet she was still alarmed at the thought of sleeping in this remote room alone with a door opening she knew not with her and which could not be perfectly fastened on the inside sometimes she wished to entreat of Madame Montigny that Annette might have leaves to remain with her all night but was deterred by an apprehension of betraying what would be thought childish fears and by an unwillingness to increase the apt terrors of Annette her gloomy reflections were soon after interrupted by a footstep in the corridor and she was glad to see Annette enter with some supper sent by Madame Montigny having a table near the fire she made the good girl sit down and sup with her and when their little repast was over Annette encouraged by her kindness and stirring the wood into a blaze drew her chair upon the hearth nearer to Emily and said did you ever hear Mamacelle of the strange incident that made senior lord of this castle what wonderful story have you not to tell said Emily concealing the curiosity occasioned by the mysterious hint she had formerly heard on that subject I have heard all about it Mamacelle said Annette looking around the chamber and drawing closer to Emily Bendetto told it me as we traveled together says he Annette you don't know about this castle here that we are going to no says I mr. Bendetto pray what do you know but Mamacelle you can keep a secret or I would not tell it you for the world for I promise never to tell and they say that the senior does not like to have it talked of if you promise to keep this a secret said Emily you do right not to mention it Annette paused the moment and then said oh but to you Mamacelle do I may tell it safely I know Emily smiled I certainly shall keep it as faithful as yourself Annette Annette replied very gravely that would do and proceeded this castle you must know Mamacelle is very old and very strong and has stood out many sieges as they say now it was not senior Monteney's always nor his father's no but by some law or other it was to come to the senior if the lady died unmarried what lady said Emily I am not come to that yet replied Annette it is the lady I am going to tell you about Mamacelle but as I was saying this lady lived in the castle and had everything very grand about her as you may suppose Mamacelle the senior used often to come to see her and was in love with her and offered to marry her for though he was somehow related that did not signify but she was in love with somebody else and would not have him which made him very angry as they say and you know Mamacelle what an ill-looking gentleman he is when he is angry perhaps she saw him in a passion and therefore would not have him but as I was saying she was very melancholy and unhappy and all that for a long while and holy virgin what noise is that did you not hear a sound Mamacelle it was only the wind said Emily but do come to the end of your story as I was saying oh where was I as I was saying she was very melancholy and unhappy a long while and used to walk upon the terrace there under the windows by herself and cry so it would have done your heart good to hear her that is I don't mean good but it would have made you cry too as they tell me well but Annette do tell me the substance of your tale all in good time Mam all this I heard before at Venice but what is to come I never heard till today this happened a great many years ago when Senior Montenille was quite a young man the lady they called her Senior Laurentini was very handsome but she used to be in great passions too sometimes as well as the senior finding he could not make her listen to him what does he do but leave the castle and never comes near it for a long time but it was all one to her she was just as unhappy whether he was here or not till one evening Holy Saint Peter Mamacelle cried Annette look at that lamp see how blue it burns she looked fearfully around the chamber ridiculous girl said Emily why will you indulge those fancies pray let me hear the end of your story I am weary Annette still kept her eyes on the lamp and proceeded in a lower voice it was one evening they say at the latter end of the year it might have been about the middle of September I suppose or the beginning of October nay for that matter it might be November for that too it's the latter end of the year but I cannot say for certain because they did not tell me for certain themselves however it was at the latter end of the year this grand lady walked out of the castle into the woods below as she had often done before all alone only her maid was with her the wind blew cold and strewed the leaves about and whistled dismally among those great old chestnut trees that we passed Mamacelle as we came to the castle for Bendetto shrewd me the trees as he was talking the wind blew cold and her woman would have persuaded her to return but all would not do for she was fond of walking in the woods at evening time and if the leaves were falling about her so much the better well they saw her go down among the woods but night came and she did not return 10 o'clock 11 o'clock 12 o'clock came and no lady while the servants thought to be sure some accident had befallen her and they went out to seek her they searched all night long but could not find her or any trace of her and from that day to this madame she has never been heard of is this true in that said Emily in much surprise true ma'am said a net with a look of horror yes it is true indeed but they do say she added lowering her voice they do say that the senora has been seen several times since walking in the woods and about the castle in the night several of the old servants who remained here some time after declared they saw her and since then she has been seen by some of the vassals who have happened to be in the castle at night carlo the old steward could tell us such things they say if he would how contradictory is this a net said emily you say that nothing has been since known of her and yet she has been seen but all this was told me for a great secret rejoin the net without noticing the remark and i am sure ma'am you would not hurt either me or bendetto so much as to go and tell it again emily remains silent and the net repeated her last sentence you have nothing to fear from my indiscretion replied emily and let me advise you my good in it be discreet yourself and never mention what you have just told me to any other person senor montany as you say maybe angry if he hears of it but what inquiries were made concerning the lady oh a great deal indeed ma'am a cell for the senor laid claim to the castle directly as being the next air and they said that is the judges or the senators or somebody of that sort said he could not take possession of it till so many years were gone by and then if after all the lady could not be found why she would be as good as dead and the castle would be his own and so it is his own but the story went round and many strange reports are spread so very strange ma'am the cell that i shall not tell them that is stranger still in that said emily smiling and rousing herself from her reverie but when senora laurantini was afterward seen in the castle did nobody speak to her speak speak to her cried in that with a look of terror no to be sure sure and why not enjoy emily willing to hear further holy mother speak to a spirit but what reason have they to conclude it was a spirit unless they had approached and spoken to it oh ma'am a cell i cannot tell how can you ask such shocking questions but nobody ever saw it come in or go out of the castle and it was in one place now and then the next minute in quite another part of the castle and then it never spoke and if it was alive what should it do in the castle if it never spoke several parts of the castle have never been gone into since they say for that very reason what because it never spoke said emily trying to laugh away the fears that began to steal upon her no ma'am a cell no replied in that rather angrily but because something has been seen there they say too there's an old chapel adjoining the west side of the castle where anytime at midnight you may hear such groans it makes one shudder to think of them and strange sights have been seen there pretty in that no more of these silly tales said emily silly tales ma'am a cell oh but i will tell you one story about this if you please that katerina told me it was one cold winter's night that katerina she often came to the castle then she says to keep old carlo and his wife company and so he recommended her afterwards to the senior and she has lived here ever since katerina was sitting with them in the little hall says carlo i wish we had some of those figs to roast that lie in the store closet but it is a long way off and i am low to fetch them do katerina says he for you are young and nimble do bring us some the fire is in nice trim for roasting them they lie says he in such a corner of the store room at the end of the north gallery here take the lamp says he and mind as you go up this great staircase that the wind through the roof does not blow it out and so with that katerina took the lamp hush ma'am a cell i surely heard a noise emily who a net had now infected with her own terrors listened attentively but everything was still and the net proceeded katerina went to the north gallery that is the wide gallery we passed ma'am before we came to the corridor here as she went with the lamp in her hand thinking of nothing at all there again cried in that suddenly i heard it again it was not fancy ma'am a cell hush said emily trembling they listened and continuing to sit quite still emily heard a low knocking against the wall it came repeatedly a net then screamed loudly and the chamber door slowly opened it was katerina come to tell in that that her lady wanted her emily though she now perceived who it was could not immediately overcome her terror while in that half laughing half crying scolded katerina heartily for thus alarming them and was also terrified that's what she had told had been overheard emily whose mind was deeply impressed by the chief circumstance of a net relation was unwilling to be left alone in the present state of her spirits but to avoid offending madame montany and betraying her own weakness she struggled to overcome the illusions of fear and dismissed a net for the night when she was alone her thoughts recurred to the strange history of senora larentini and then to her own strange situation in the wild and solitary mountains of a foreign country in the castle and the power of a man to whom only a few preceding months she was an entire stranger who had already exercised and usurped authority over her and whose character she now regarded with a degree of terror apparently justified by the fears of others she knew that he had apparently invention equal to the conception and talents to the execution of any project and she greatly feared he had a heart too void of feeling to oppose the perpetration of whatever his interests might suggest she had long observed the unhappiness of madame montany and had often been witnessed through the stern and contemptuous behavior she received from her husband to these circumstances which conspired to give her just cause for alarm were now added those thousand nameless terrors which exist only in active imaginations and which set reason and examination equally at defiance emily remembered all that valencor had told her on the eve of her departure from long dock respecting montany and all he had said to dissuade her from venturing on the journey his fears had often since appeared to her prophetic now they seemed confirmed her heart as it gave her back the image of valencor mourned in vain regret but reasons soon came with the consolation which though feeble at first acquired bigger from reflection she considered that whatever might be her sufferings she had withheld from involving him in misfortune and that whatever her future sorrows could be she was at least free from self reproach her melancholy was assisted by the hollow sirens of the wind along the corridor and round the castle the cheerful blaze of the wood had long been extinguished and she sat with her eyes fixed on the dying embers till a loud gust that swept through the corridor and shook the doors encasements alarmed her for its violence had moved the chair she had placed as a fastening and the door leading to the private staircase stood half open her curiosity and her fears were again awakened she took the lamp to the top of the steps and stood hesitating whether to go down but again the profound stillness and the gloom of the place awed her and determining to inquire further when daylight might assist the search she closed the door and placed against it a stronger guard she now retired to her bed leaving the lamp burning on the table but its gloomy light instead of dispelling her fear assisted it for by its uncertain rays she almost fancied she saw shapes flip past her curtains and glide into the remote obscurity of her chamber the castle clock struck one before she closed her eyes to sleep end of volume two chapter five per