CHAPTER II
unfold What worlds, or what vast regions, hold Th' immortal mind, that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nook! IL PENSEROSO
Emily's mind was refreshed by sleep. On waking in the morning, shelooked with surprise on Annette, who sat sleeping in a chair beside thebed, and then endeavoured to recollect herself; but the circumstances ofthe preceding night were swept from her memory, which seemed to retainno trace of what had passed, and she was still gazing with surprise onAnnette, when the latter awoke.
'O dear ma'amselle! do you know me?' cried she.
'Know you! Certainly,' replied Emily, 'you are Annette; but why are yousitting by me thus?'
'O you have been very ill, ma'amselle,--very ill indeed! and I am sure Ithought--'
'This is very strange!' said Emily, still trying to recollect thepast.--'But I think I do remember, that my fancy has been haunted byfrightful dreams. Good God!' she added, suddenly starting--'surely itwas nothing more than a dream!'
She fixed a terrified look upon Annette, who, intending to quiet her,said 'Yes, ma'amselle, it was more than a dream, but it is all overnow.'
'She IS murdered, then!' said Emily in an inward voice, and shudderinginstantaneously. Annette screamed; for, being ignorant of thecircumstance to which Emily referred, she attributed her manner to adisordered fancy; but, when she had explained to what her own speechalluded, Emily, recollecting the attempt that had been made to carry heroff, asked if the contriver of it had been discovered. Annette replied,that he had not, though he might easily be guessed at; and then toldEmily she might thank her for her deliverance, who, endeavouring tocommand the emotion, which the remembrance of her aunt had occasioned,appeared calmly to listen to Annette, though, in truth, she heardscarcely a word that was said.
'And so, ma'amselle,' continued the latter, 'I was determined to be evenwith Barnardine for refusing to tell me the secret, by finding it outmyself; so I watched you, on the terrace, and, as soon as he had openedthe door at the end, I stole out from the castle, to try to follow you;for, says I, I am sure no good can be planned, or why all this secrecy?So, sure enough, he had not bolted the door after him, and, when Iopened it, I saw, by the glimmer of the torch, at the other end of thepassage, which way you were going. I followed the light, at a distance,till you came to the vaults of the chapel, and there I was afraid to gofurther, for I had heard strange things about these vaults. But then,again, I was afraid to go back, all in darkness, by myself; so by thetime Barnardine had trimmed the light, I had resolved to follow you, andI did so, till you came to the great court, and there I was afraid hewould see me; so I stopped at the door again, and watched you across tothe gates, and, when you was gone up the stairs, I whipt after. There,as I stood under the gate-way, I heard horses' feet without, and severalmen talking; and I heard them swearing at Barnardine for not bringingyou out, and just then, he had like to have caught me, for he came downthe stairs again, and I had hardly time to get out of his way. But I hadheard enough of his secret now, and I determined to be even with him,and to save you, too, ma'amselle, for I guessed it to be some new schemeof Count Morano, though he was gone away. I ran into the castle, but Ihad hard work to find my way through the passage under the chapel, andwhat is very strange, I quite forgot to look for the ghosts they hadtold me about, though I would not go into that place again by myself forall the world! Luckily the Signor and Signor Cavigni were up, so we hadsoon a train at our heels, sufficient to frighten that Barnardine andhis rogues, all together.'
Annette ceased to speak, but Emily still appeared to listen. At lengthshe said, suddenly, 'I think I will go to him myself;--where is he?'
Annette asked who was meant.
'Signor Montoni,' replied Emily. 'I would speak with him;' and Annette,now remembering the order he had given, on the preceding night,respecting her young lady, rose, and said she would seek him herself.
This honest girl's suspicions of Count Morano were perfectly just;Emily, too, when she thought on the scheme, had attributed it tohim; and Montoni, who had not a doubt on this subject, also, beganto believe, that it was by the direction of Morano, that poison hadformerly been mingled with his wine.
The professions of repentance, which Morano had made to Emily, under theanguish of his wound, was sincere at the moment he offered them; buthe had mistaken the subject of his sorrow, for, while he thought he wascondemning the cruelty of his late design, he was lamenting only thestate of suffering, to which it had reduced him. As these sufferingsabated, his former views revived, till, his health being re-established,he again found himself ready for enterprise and difficulty. The porterof the castle, who had served him, on a former occasion, willinglyaccepted a second bribe; and, having concerted the means of drawingEmily to the gates, Morano publicly left the hamlet, whither he had beencarried after the affray, and withdrew with his people to anotherat several miles distance. From thence, on a night agreed upon byBarnardine, who had discovered from the thoughtless prattle of Annette,the most probable means of decoying Emily, the Count sent back hisservants to the castle, while he awaited her arrival at the hamlet, withan intention of carrying her immediately to Venice. How this, his secondscheme, was frustrated, has already appeared; but the violent, andvarious passions with which this Italian lover was now agitated, on hisreturn to that city, can only be imagined.
Annette having made her report to Montoni of Emily's health and of herrequest to see him, he replied, that she might attend him in the cedarroom, in about an hour. It was on the subject, that pressed so heavilyon her mind, that Emily wished to speak to him, yet she did notdistinctly know what good purpose this could answer, and sometimesshe even recoiled in horror from the expectation of his presence. Shewished, also, to petition, though she scarcely dared to believe therequest would be granted, that he would permit her, since her aunt wasno more, to return to her native country.
As the moment of interview approached, her agitation increased so much,that she almost resolved to excuse herself under what could scarcelybe called a pretence of illness; and, when she considered what couldbe said, either concerning herself, or the fate of her aunt, she wasequally hopeless as to the event of her entreaty, and terrified asto its effect upon the vengeful spirit of Montoni. Yet, to pretendignorance of her death, appeared, in some degree, to be sharing itscriminality, and, indeed, this event was the only ground, on which Emilycould rest her petition for leaving Udolpho.
While her thoughts thus wavered, a message was brought, importing, thatMontoni could not see her, till the next day; and her spirits werethen relieved, for a moment, from an almost intolerable weight ofapprehension. Annette said, she fancied the Chevaliers were going outto the wars again, for the court-yard was filled with horses, and sheheard, that the rest of the party, who went out before, were expected atthe castle. 'And I heard one of the soldiers, too,' added she, 'sayto his comrade, that he would warrant they'd bring home a rare deal ofbooty.--So, thinks I, if the Signor can, with a safe conscience, sendhis people out a-robbing--why it is no business of mine. I only wishI was once safe out of this castle; and, if it had not been for poorLudovico's sake, I would have let Count Morano's people run away withus both, for it would have been serving you a good turn, ma'amselle, aswell as myself.'
Annette might have continued thus talking for hours for any interruptionshe would have received from Emily, who was silent, inattentive,absorbed in thought, and passed the whole of this day in a kindof solemn tranquillity, such as is often the result of facultiesoverstrained by suffering.
When night returned, Emily recollected the mysterious strains of music,that she had lately heard, in which she still felt some degree ofinterest, and of which she hoped to hear again the soothing sweetness.The influence of superstition now gained on the weakness of herlong-harassed mind; she looked, with enthusiastic expectation, to theguardian spirit of her father, and, having dismissed Annette for thenight, determined to watch alone for their return. It was not yet,however, near the time when she had heard the
music on a former night,and anxious to call off her thoughts from distressing subjects, she satdown with one of the few books, that she had brought from France; buther mind, refusing controul, became restless and agitated, and she wentoften to the casement to listen for a sound. Once, she thought she hearda voice, but then, every thing without the casement remaining still, sheconcluded, that her fancy had deceived her.
Thus passed the time, till twelve o'clock, soon after which the distantsounds, that murmured through the castle, ceased, and sleep seemed toreign over all. Emily then seated herself at the casement, where shewas soon recalled from the reverie, into which she sunk, by very unusualsounds, not of music, but like the low mourning of some person indistress. As she listened, her heart faltered in terror, and she becameconvinced, that the former sound was more than imaginary. Still,at intervals, she heard a kind of feeble lamentation, and sought todiscover whence it came. There were several rooms underneath, adjoiningthe rampart, which had been long shut up, and, as the sound probablyrose from one of these, she leaned from the casement to observe, whetherany light was visible there. The chambers, as far as she could perceive,were quite dark, but, at a little distance, on the rampart below, shethought she saw something moving.
The faint twilight, which the stars shed, did not enable her todistinguish what it was; but she judged it to be a sentinel, on watch,and she removed her light to a remote part of the chamber, that shemight escape notice, during her further observation.
The same object still appeared. Presently, it advanced along therampart, towards her window, and she then distinguished something likea human form, but the silence, with which it moved, convinced her itwas no sentinel. As it drew near, she hesitated whether to retire; athrilling curiosity inclined her to stay, but a dread of she scarcelyknew what warned her to withdraw.
While she paused, the figure came opposite to her casement, and wasstationary. Every thing remained quiet; she had not heard even afoot-fall; and the solemnity of this silence, with the mysterious formshe saw, subdued her spirits, so that she was moving from the casement,when, on a sudden, she observed the figure start away, and glide downthe rampart, after which it was soon lost in the obscurity of night.Emily continued to gaze, for some time, on the way it had passed, andthen retired within her chamber, musing on this strange circumstance,and scarcely doubting, that she had witnessed a supernatural appearance.
When her spirits recovered composure, she looked round for some otherexplanation. Remembering what she had heard of the daring enterprises ofMontoni, it occurred to her, that she had just seen some unhappyperson, who, having been plundered by his banditti, was brought hither acaptive; and that the music she had formerly heard, came from him.Yet, if they had plundered him, it still appeared improbable, that theyshould have brought him to the castle, and it was also more consistentwith the manners of banditti to murder those they rob, than to make themprisoners. But what, more than any other circumstance, contradictedthe supposition, that it was a prisoner, was that it wandered on theterrace, without a guard: a consideration, which made her dismissimmediately her first surmise.
Afterwards, she was inclined to believe, that Count Morano had obtainedadmittance into the castle; but she soon recollected the difficultiesand dangers, that must have opposed such an enterprise, and that, if hehad so far succeeded, to come alone and in silence to her casement atmidnight was not the conduct he would have adopted, particularly sincethe private stair-case, communicating with her apartment, was known tohim; neither would he have uttered the dismal sounds she had heard.
Another suggestion represented, that this might be some person, who haddesigns upon the castle; but the mournful sounds destroyed, also, thatprobability. Thus, enquiry only perplexed her. Who, or what, it could bethat haunted this lonely hour, complaining in such doleful accents andin such sweet music (for she was still inclined to believe, that theformer strains and the late appearance were connected,) she had no meansof ascertaining; and imagination again assumed her empire, and rousedthe mysteries of superstition.
She determined, however, to watch on the following night, when herdoubts might, perhaps, be cleared up; and she almost resolved to addressthe figure, if it should appear again.