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 Red Abrus The Mysteries of Udolfo by Anne Radcliffe Volume 3, Chapter 2 Unfold what worlds or what vast regions Hold the immortal mind that hath forsook Her mansion in this fleshly nuke Ill, penceroso Emily's mind was refreshed by sleep On waking in the morning, she looked with surprise on a net Who sat sleeping in a chair beside the bed And then endeavored to recollect herself But the circumstances of the preceding night were swept from her memory Which seemed to retain no trace of what had passed And she was still gazing with surprise on a net When the latter awoke O dear Mamzell, do you know me? cried she Know you?  O you have been very ill Mamzell, very ill indeed And I am sure I thought This is very strange, said Emily Still trying to recollect the past But I think I do remember that my fancy has been haunted by frightful dreams Good God! she added, suddenly starting Surely it was nothing more than a dream She fixed a terrified look upon a net Who, intending to quiet her, said Yes Mamzell, it was more than a dream But it's all over now She is murdered then, said Emily in an inward voice And shuddering instantaneously A net screamed for being ignorant of the circumstance to which Emily referred She attributed her manner to a disordered fancy But when she had explained to what her own speech alluded Emily, recollecting the attempt that had been made to carry her off Asked if the contriver of it had been discovered A net replied that he had not Though he might easily be guessed at And then told Emily she might thank her for her deliverance Who, endeavoring to command the emotion Which the remembrance of her aunt had occasioned Appeared calmly to listen to a net Though in truth she heard scarcely a word that was said And so Mamzell continued the latter I was determined to be even with Bernardine for refusing to tell me the secret By finding out myself so I watched you on the terrace And as soon as he had opened the 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 I opened it I saw by the glimmer of the torch At the other end of the passage which way you were going I followed the light at a distance till you came to the walls of the chapel And there I was afraid to go further For I had heard strange things about these walls But then again I was afraid to go back All in darkness by myself So by the time Bernardine had trimmed the light I had resolved to follow you and I did so Till you came to the great court And there I was afraid he would see me So I stopped at the door again And watched you across to the gates And when you was gone up the stairs I whipped after There as I stood under the gateway I heard horses feet without And several men talking And I heard them swearing at Bernardine for not bringing you out And just then he had liked to have caught me For he came down the stairs again And I had hardly time to get out of his way But I had heard enough of his secret now And I determined to be even with him And to save you too ma'amsel For I guessed it would be some new scheme of Count Morano Though he was gone away I ran to the castle But I had hard work to find my way Through the passage under the chapel And what is very strange I quite forgot to look for the ghosts they had told me about Though I would not go into that place again By myself for all the world Luckily the senior and senior Cavigny were up So we had soon a train at our heels Sufficient to frighten that Bernardine And his rogues altogether Annette ceased to speak But Emily still appeared to listen At length she said suddenly I think I'll go to him myself Where is he? Annette asked who was meant Senior 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 to him And Montoni, who had not had doubt on this subject Also began to believe That it was by the direction of Morano That Poison had formally been mingled with his wine The professions of repentance Which Morano had made to Emily Under the anguish of his wound Were sincere at the moment he offered them But he had mistaken the subject of his sorrow For while he thought he was condemning The cruelty of his late design He was lamenting only the state of suffering To which it had reduced him As these sufferings abated His former views revived Till his health being re-established He again found himself ready for enterprise And difficulty The porter of the castle Who had served him on a former occasion Willingly accepted a second bribe And having concerted the means Of drawing Emily to the gates Morano publicly left the hamlet Wither he had been carried after the affray And withdrew with his people to another At several miles distance From thence on a night agreed upon by Bernadine Who had discovered from the thoughtless Prattle of Annette The most probable means of decoying Emily The Count sent back his servants to the castle While he awaited her arrival at the hamlet With an intention of carrying her immediately to Venice How this, his second scheme was frustrated Has already appeared But the violent and various passions With which this Italian lover was now agitated On his return to that city Can only be imagined Annette having made her report To Montoni of Emily's health And of her request to see him He replied that she might attend him In the cedar room in about an hour It was on the subject That pressed so heavily on her mind That Emily wished to speak to him Yet she did not distinctly know What could purpose this could answer And sometimes she even recoiled in horror From the expectation of his presence She wished also to petition Though she scarcely dared to believe That request would be granted That he would permit her Since her aunt was no 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 scarcely be called A pretence of illness And when she considered what could be said Either concerning herself Or the fate of her aunt She was equally hopeless As to the event of her entreaty And terrified as to its effect Upon the vengeful spirit of Montoni Yet to pretend ignorance of her death Appeared in some degree To be sharing its criminality And indeed this event was the only ground On which Emily could rest her petition For living Udolfo While her thoughts thus wavered A message was brought Impoting that Montoni could not see her Till the next day and her spirits Were then relieved for a moment From an almost intolerable Weight of apprehension Annette said She fancied that Cavaliers were going out to the wars again For the courtyard was filled with horses And she heard that the rest of the party Who went out before were expected At the castle And I heard one of the soldiers too Added she Say to his comrade that he would warrant They would bring home a rare deal of booty So thinks I If the senior can With a safe conscience Send his people out robbing Why it is no business of mine I only wish I was once safe out of this castle And if it had not been for poor Ludovico's sake I would have let Count Morano's people Run away with us both For it would have been serving you a good turn Mamzal as well as myself Annette might have continued The stalking for hours For any interruption she would have Received from Emily who was silent Inattentive Observed in thought and passed the whole Of this day in a kind of solemn tranquility Such as is often the result Of faculties overstrained by suffering When Knight returned Emily recollected The mysterious strains of music That she had lately heard In which she still felt Some degree of interest And of which she hoped to hear again The soothing sweetness The influence of superstition Now gained on the weakness Of her long harassed mind She looked with enthusiastic Expectation To the guardian spirit of her father And having dismissed Annette For the night Determined to watch alone For their return It was not yet however Near the time when she had Heard the music on a former Knight And anxious to call off her thoughts From distressing subjects She sat down with one of the few books That she had brought from France But her mind refusing control Became restless and agitated And she went off into the casement To listen for a sound Once she thought she heard a voice But then everything without The casement remaining still She concluded that her fancy Had deceived her Thus passed the time Till twelve o'clock soon after Which the distant sounds That murmured through the castle Seized and sleep seemed to Rean over all Emily then seated herself at the Casement where she was soon Recalled from the river into which She was sunk by very unusual sounds Not of music but like the Low mourning of some person In distress and she listened Her heart faltered in terror And she became convinced That the former sound was more Than imaginary Still at intervals she heard A kind of feeble lamentation And sought to discover whence it came There were several rooms Underneath adjoining the rampart Which had been long shut up And as the sound probably rose From one of these She leaned from the casement to Observe whether any light Was visible there The chambers as far as she could Perceive were quite dark But at a little distance on the rampart Below she thought she saw Something moving The faint twilight which The stars shed did not enable her To distinguish what it was But she judged it to be a Light on watch And she removed her light to a Remote part of the chamber that She might escape notice during Her further observation. The same object still appeared Presently it advanced along The rampart towards her window And she then distinguished Something like a human form But the silence with which it Moved convinced her it was no Sentinel. As it drew near she hesitated A thrilling curiosity inclined her To stay but a dread of She scarcely knew what warned her To withdraw. While she passed the figure came Opposite to her casement and was Stationary. Everything remained Quite. She had not heard Even a footfall. And the solemnity of this silence With the mysterious form she saw Subdued her spirits so that She was moving from the casement When on a sudden She observed the figure start away And glide down the 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 and then retired within Her chamber musing on this Strange circumstance and scarcely Doubting that she had witnessed A supernatural appearance. When her spirits Recovered composer she looked Around for some other explanation Remembering what she had heard Of the daring enterprises of Montoni It occurred to her That she had just seen some Unhappy person who having Been plundered by his banditry Was brought hither A captive and that the music She had formerly heard came from him Yet if they had Plundered him it still appeared Improbable that they should have Brought him to the castle and it Was also more consistent with the Consciousness of banditry to murder Those they rob than to make Them prisoners. But what more than any other Circumstance contradicted the Supposition that it was a prisoner Was that it wandered on the Terrace without a guard. A consideration which made her Dismiss immediately her first Sermize. Afterwards she was inclined To believe that Count Morano Had obtained admittance To the castle but she soon recollected The difficulties and dangers That must have opposed such An enterprise and that If he had so far succeeded to Come alone and in silence to her Casement at midnight was not The conduct he would have adopted Particularly since The private staircase communicating With her apartment was known to him Neither would he have uttered The dismal sounds she had heard. Another suggestion represented That this might be some person Who had designs upon the castle But the mournful sounds Destroyed also that probability. Thus enquiry only Preplexed her who or what It could be that haunted This lonely hour complaining In such doleful accents And in such sweet music For she was still inclined To believe that the former Strings and the late appearance Were connected. She had no means of ascertaining An imagination again assumed her empire And roused the mysteries of superstition. She determined however To watch on the following night When her doubts might Perhaps be cleared up and she almost resolved To address the figure If it should appear again. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information Or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Red Abriss The Mysteries of Udolfo By Anne Radcliffe Volume 3 Chapter 3 Part 1 of 2 And sitting by a new-made grave Milton On the following day Montoni sent a second excuse To Emily who was surprised At the circumstance. This is very strange, said she To herself. His conscience tells him The purpose of my visit And he defends it To avoid an explanation. She now almost resolved To throw herself in his way But terror checked the intention This day passed as the preceding one With Emily Except that a degree of Awful expectation concerning The approaching night Now somewhat disturbed the dreadful Calmness that had pervaded Her mind. Towards evening the second part of the Band which had made the first Excursion among the mountains Returned to the castle Where as they entered the coats Emily in her remote chamber Heard their loud shouts And strains of exultation Like the orgies of furies Over some horrid sacrifice She even feared they were About to commit some barbarous deed A conjecture from which However, Annette soon relieved her By telling that the people Were only exulting over the Plunder they had brought with them This circumstance still Further confirmed her in the belief That Montoni had really commenced To be a captain of Banditi And meant to retrieve His broken fortunes By the plunder of travellers Indeed, when she considered All the circumstances of the situation In an armed and almost inaccessible castle Retired far among the recesses Of wild and solitary mountains Along whose distant skirts Were scattered towns and cities With their wealthy travellers Were continually passing This appeared to be the situation Of all others most suited For the success of schemes of Rapine and she yielded To the strange thought That Montoni was become a captain Of robbers His character also unprincipled Dauntless, cruel and enterprising Seemed to fit him for the situation Delighting in the tumult And in the struggles of life He was equally a stranger To pity and to fear His very courage was a sort of animal ferocity Not the noble impulse of a principal Such as in spirits the mind Against the oppressor In the cause of the oppressed But a constitutional hardness of nerve That cannot feel and that Therefore cannot fear Emily's supposition However natural was in part erroneous For she was a stranger To the state of this country And to the circumstances under which Its frequent wars were partly conducted The revenues of the many states of Italy Being at that time insufficient To the support of standing armies Even during the short periods Which the turbulent habits both Of the governments and the people Permitted to pass in peace An order of men arose Not known in our age And but faintly described in the history Of their own Of the soldiers disbanded Of every war Few returned to the safe But unprofitable occupations Than usual in peace Sometimes they passed into other countries And mingled with armies Which still kept the field Sometimes they formed themselves Into bands of robbers And occupied remote fortresses Where their desperate character The weakness of the governments Which they offended And the certainty that they could The reasons should be again wanted Prevented them from being Much pursued by the civil power And sometimes they attached themselves To the fortunes of a popular chief By whom they were led Into the service of any state Which could settle with him The price of their valor From this latter practice Arrows their name Condo Tieri A term formidable all over Italy For a period which concluded In the earlier part of the 17th century But of which it is not so easy To ascertain the commencement Contests between the smaller states Were then for the most part Affairs of enterprise alone And the probabilities of success Were estimated not from the skill But from the personal courage Of the general and the soldiers The ability which was necessary To the conduct of tedious operations Was little valued It was enough to know how a party Might be led towards their enemies With the greatest secrecy Or conducted from them In the compactest order The officer was to precipitate himself Into a situation where But for his example The soldiers might not have ventured And as the opposed parties Knew little of each other's strength The event of the day was frequently Determined by the boldness Of the first movements In such services The condo theory were eminent And in these Where plunder always followed success Their characters acquired a mixture Of intrepidity And profligacy Which awed even those whom they served When they were not thus engaged Their chief had usually His own fortress In which or in its neighbourhood They enjoyed an irksome rest And though they were once Where at one time Supplied from the property of the inhabitants The lavish distribution Of their plunder at others Prevented them from being obnoxious And the peasants of such districts Gradually shared the character Of their warlike visitors The neighbouring governments Sometimes professed But seldom endeavoured to suppress These military communities Both because it was difficult to do so And because a disguised protection Of them ensured The service of their wars A body of men who could not otherwise Be so cheaply maintained Or so perfectly qualified The commanders sometimes even relied So far upon this policy Of the several powers As to frequent their capitals And Montoni having met them In the gaming parties of Venice And Padua conceived a desire To emulate their characters Before his ruined fortunes Tempted him to adopt their practices It was for the arrangement Of his present plan of life That the midnight councils Were held at his mansion in Venice And at which Arsino And some other members of the present community Then assisted with suggestions Which they had since executed With the wreck of their fortunes On the return of night Emily resumed her situation At the casement There was now a moon Over the tufted woods Its yellow light served to shield The lonely terrace and the surrounding objects More distinctly than the twilight Of the stars had done And promised Emily to assist her observations Should the mysterious form return On this subject She again wavered in conjecture And hesitated whether to speak To the figure to which A strong and almost irresistible Interest urged her But terror at intervals Was reluctant to do so If this is a person who has Designs upon the castle, said she My curiosity may prove fatal to me Yet the mysterious music And the lamentations I heard Must surely have proceeded from him If so, he cannot be an enemy She then thought of her Unfortunate aunt And shuddering with grief and horror The suggestions of imagination Seized her mind with all the force Of truth, and she believed That the form she had seen Was supernatural. She trembled, breathed with difficulty And icy coldness touched her cheeks And her fears for a while Overcame her judgment. Her resolution now foresook her And she determined If the figure should appear Not to speak to it. Thus the time passed As she sat at her casement Odd by expectation The chillness of midnight For she saw, obscurely in the moonlight Only the mountains and woods A cluster of towers that formed The west angle of the castle And the terrace below and heard No sound except now and then The lonely watchward passed By the sentinels on duty And afterwards the steps of the men Who came to relieve guard And whom she knew at a distance On the rampart by their pikes That glittered in the moonbeam The words in which they hailed their fellows Of the night. Emily retired within her chamber While they passed the casement. When she returned to it, all was again quiet. It was now very late. She was varied with watching And began to doubt the reality Of what she had seen on the preceding night. But she still lingered at the window. For her mind was too perturbed To admit of sleep. The moon shone with a clear luster That afforded her a complete view Of the terrace. But she saw only a solitary sentinel Pacing at one end of it. And, at length, tired with expectations She withdrew to seek rest. Such, however, was the impression Left on her mind by the music And the complaining she had formerly Heard as well as by the figure Which she fancied she had seen That she determined to repeat The watch on the following night. Montoni on the next day Took no notice of Emily's appointed visit. But she, more anxious than before To see him, sent Annette to inquire At what hour he would admit her. He mentioned eleven o'clock And Emily was punctual to the moment. At which she called up all her fortitude To support the shock of his presence And the dreadful recollection it enforced. He was with several of his officers In the sedar room, on observing Whom she passed. And her agitation increased While he could not see her. And, at last, she saw Her agitation increased While he continued to converse with them Apparently not observing her Till some of his officers Turning round saw Emily And uttered an exclamation. She was hastily retiring When Montoni's voice arrested her. And in a faltering accent She said, I would speak with you, Senor Montoni, if you are at leisure. These are my friends, he replied. Whatever you would say, they may hear. Emily, without replying, turned from The rude gaze of the chivaliers And Montoni then followed her To the hall, whence he led her To a small room of which He shut the door with violence. As she looked on his dark countenance She again thought She saw the murderer of her aunt And her mind was so converse With horror that she had not Power to recall thought enough To explain the purpose of her visit And to trust herself With the mention of Madame Montoni Was more than she did Montoni at length impatiently Inquired what she had to say I have no time for trifling He added, my moments are important Emily then told him That she wished to return To France and came to beg That he would permit her to do so But when he looked surprised And inquired for the motive Of the request she hesitated Became paler than before Trembled and had nearly Sunk at his feet He observed her emotion With apparent indifference And interrupted the silence by telling her He must be gone. Emily, however, recalled her spirits sufficiently To enable her to repeat her request And when Montoni absolutely Refused it, her slumbering Mind was roused. I can no longer remain here Sir, said she And I may be allowed to ask By what right you retained me It is my will that you remain here Said Montoni, laying his hand On the door to go Let that suffice you Emily, considering that she had No appeal from this will Forbored to dispute his right And made a feeble effort To persuade him to be just While my aunt lived Sir, said she My residence here was not improper But now that she is no more I may surely be permitted to depart My stake cannot benefit you, sir And will only distress me Who told you that Madam Montoni was dead? Said Montoni With an inquisitive eye Emily hesitated For nobody had told her so And she did not dare to avow That having seen that spectacle In the portal chamber That compelled her to the belief Who told you so? He repeated more sternly Alas, I know it too well Replied Emily Spare me on this terrible subject She sat down on a bench To support herself If you wish to see her Said Montoni, you may She lies in the east turret He now left the room Without awaiting her reply She went to the cedar chamber Where such of the chivaliers As had not before seen Emily Began to rally him On the discovery they had made But Montoni did not appear Disposed to bear this mirth And they changed the subject Having talked with the subtle or sino On the plan of an excursion Which he mediated for a future day His friend advised That they should lie in wait For the enemy Intentiously opposed Reproach Orsino with want of spirit And swore that if Montoni Would let him lead on fifty men He would conquer all that Should oppose him Orsino smiled contemptuously Montoni smiled too But he also listened Whereas he then proceeded With vehement declamation And assertion till he was stopped By an argument of Orsino Which he knew not how to answer By invective His fierce spirit Detested the cunning caution of Orsino Whom he constantly opposed And whose inverterate Though silent hatred He had long ago incurred And Montoni was a calm observer Of both Whose different qualifications he knew And how to bend their opposite character To the perfection of his own designs But whereas he In the heart of opposition Orsino did not scruple Accused Orsino of cowardice At which the countenance of the latter While he made no reply Was overspread with a livid paleness And Montoni who watched His lurking eye Saw him put his hand hastily into his bosom But Whereas he Whose face glowing with crimson Formed a striking contrast To the complexion of Orsino Remarked not the action And continued boldly Against cowards to Kevigni Who was slightly laughing at his behemots And at the silent modification Of Orsino when the latter Retiring a few steps behind Drived forth a stiletto To stab his adversary in the back Montoni arrested his half extended arm And with a significant look Made him return the poignard Into his bosom Unseen by all except himself For most of the party were disputing At a distant window On the situation of a dell Where they meant to form an ambuscade When Whereas he had turned round The deadly hatred expressed On the features of his opponent Raising for the first time A suspicion of his intention He led his hand on his sword And then seeming to recollect Himself stood up to Montoni Sinior said he With a significant look at Orsino We are not a band of assassins If you have business for brave men Employ me on this expedition You shall have the last drop of my blood If you have only work for cowards Keep him Pointing to Orsino And let me quit Udalfo Orsino still more incensed Again drew forth his stiletto And rushed towards Whereas he Who at the same instant Advanced with his sword When Montoni and the rest of the party Interfered and separated them This is the conduct of a boy Said Montoni to Whereas Not of a man Be more moderate in your speech Moderation is the virtue of cowards Retorted Whereas he They are moderate in everything But in fear I accept your words Said Montoni Turning upon him with a fierce And hotty look And drawing his sword out of the scabbard With all my heart Cried Whereas Though I did not mean them for you He directed a pass At Montoni and while they fought The villain Orsino made another attempt To stab Whereas he And was again prevented The combatants were at length Separated and after a very long And violent dispute reconciled Montoni then left the room With Orsino whom he detained In private consultation for a considerable time End of volume 3 Chapter 3 Part 1 of 2 Recording by Red Abriss June 2008 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 Red Abriss The Mysteries of Udalfa Volume 3 Chapter 3 Part 2 of 2 Emily meanwhile stunned By the last words of Montoni Forgot for the moment His declaration that she should Continue in the castle While she thought of her unfortunate aunt Who he had said Was laid in the east turret In suffering the remains of his wife To lie thus long unburied There appeared a degree Of brutality more shocking Than she had suspected even Montoni could practise After a long struggle She determined to accept his permission To visit the turret And to take a last look Of her ill-fated aunt With which design she turned to her chamber And while she waited for Annette To accompany her To acquire fortitude sufficient To support her through the approaching scene For though she trembled To encounter it She knew that to remember the performance Of this last act of duty Would hereafter afford her Consoling satisfaction Annette came And Emily mentioned her purpose From which the former endeavoured To dissuade her Though without effect And Annette was with much difficulty Prevealed upon to accompany her To the turret But no consideration could make her promise To enter the chamber of death They now left the corridor And having reached the foot of the staircase Which Emily had formerly ascended Annette declared She would go no further And Emily proceeded alone When she saw the track of blood Which she had before observed Her spirits fainted And being compelled to rest On the stairs She almost determined to proceed No further The pause of a few moments restored Her resolution and she went on As she drew near the landing place Upon which the upper chamber Opened She remembered that the door was formerly Fastened and apprehended That it might still be so In this expectation However she was mistaken For the door opened at once A dusky and silent chamber Round which she fearfully looked And then slowly advanced When a hollow voice spoke Emily who was unable to speak Or to move from the spot Uttered no sound of terror The voice spoke again And then Thinking that it resembled That of Madame Montoni Emily's spirits were instantly roused She rushed towards a bed That stood in a remote part Of the room and riverside The curtains Within appeared a pale and emaciated face She started back Then again advanced Shuddered As she took up the skeleton hand That lay stretched upon the quilt Then let it drop And then viewed the face With a long unsettled gaze It was that Of Madame Montoni Though so changed by illness The resemblance of what it had been Could scarcely be traced In what it now appeared She was still alive And raising her heavy eyes She turned them on her knees Where have you been so long? Said she In the same hollow tone I thought you had forsaken me Do you indeed live? Said Emily at length Or is this but a terrible apparition She received no answer And again she snatched up the hand This is substance She exclaimed But it is so cold Cold as marble She let it fall Oh if you really live Speak Said Emily in a voice of desperation That I may not lose my senses Say you know me I do live Replied Madame Montoni But I feel that I am about to die Emily clasped the hand She held more eagerly and groaned They were both silent for some moments Then Emily endeavored to soothe her And inquired what had reduced her To this present deplorable state Montoni, when he removed her to the turret Under the improbable suspicion Of having attempted his life Had ordered the men employed On the occasion to observe A strict secrecy concerning her To this he was influenced By a double motive He meant to debar her from The comfort of Emily's visits And to secure an opportunity Of privately dispatching her Should any new circumstances occur To confirm the present suggestions Of his suspecting mind His consciousness of the hatred He deserved it was natural enough First led him to attribute to her The attempt that had been made Upon his life And though there was no other reason To believe that she was concerned In that atrocious design His suspicions remained He continued to confine her in the turret Under a strict guard And without pity or remorse Had suffered her to lie Forlorn and neglected under a raging fever Till it had reduced her To the present state The track of blood which Emily Had seen on the stairs Had flowed from the unbound wound Of one of the men employed To carry Madame Montoni And which he had received in the late effray At night these men Having contended themselves With securing the door of their prisoner's room Had retired from guard And then it was that Emily At the time of her first inquiry Had found the turret so silent And deserted When she had attempted to open The door of the chamber Her aunt was sleeping and this occasioned The silence which had contributed To delude her into a belief That she was no more Yet had her terror permitted Her to persevere longer In the call she would probably Have awakened Madame Montoni And have been spared much suffering The spectacle in the portal chamber Which afterwards confirmed Emily's Horrible suspicion was the corpse Of a man who had fallen in the effray And the same which had been Born into the servant's hall Where she took refuge from the tumult This man had lingered under His wounds for some days And soon after his death His body had been removed on the couch On which he died For interment in the vault Beneath the chapel through which Emily and Bernardine had passed To the chamber Emily, after asking Madame Montoni A thousand questions concerning Herself, left her And sought Montoni For the more solemn interest She felt for her aunt Made her now, regardless of the resentment Her remonstrances might draw upon herself And of the improbability of His granting what she meant To entreat Madame Montoni is now dying Sir, said Emily As soon as she saw him Your resentment surely will not Pursue her to the last moment Suffer her to be removed From that forlorn room To her own apartment And to have necessary comforts administered Of what service will that be If she is dying Said Montoni With apparent indifference The service at leave Of saving you, sir From a few of those pangs Of conscience you must suffer To see in the same situation Said Emily With imprudent indignation Of which Montoni soon made her sensible By commanding her to quit His presence Then forgetting her resentment And impressed only by compassion For the piteous state of her aunt Dying without succour She submitted to humble herself To Montoni and to adopt Every persuasive means That might induce him to relent For a considerable time He was proof against all she said And all she looked But at length the divinity of pity Beaming in Emily's eyes Seemed to touch his heart He turned away ashamed of his better feelings Half sullen and half relenting But finally consented That his wife should be removed To her own apartment And that Emily should attend her Dreading equally that this relief Might arrive too late And might retract his concession Emily scarcely stayed To thank him for it But assisted by Annette She quickly prepared Madame Montoni's bed And they carried her a cordial That might enable her feeble frame To sustain the fatigue of a removal Madame was scarcely arrived In her own apartment When an order was given by her husband That she should remain in the turret But Emily thankfully That she had made such dispatch They sent to inform him of it As well as that a second removal Would instantly prove fatal And he suffered his wife To continue where she was During this day Emily never left Madame Montoni except to prepare Such little nourishing things As she judged necessary to sustain her And which Madame Montoni Received with quite acquiescence Though she seemed sensible That they could not save her From approaching dissolution And appeared to wish for life Emily meanwhile watched over her With the most tender solitude No longer seeing her imperious aunt In the poor object before her But the sister of her late beloved father In a situation that called for All her compassion and kindness When night came She determined to sit up with her aunt But this the latter positively Forbid commanding her To retire to rest And Annette alone to remain In her chamber Rest was indeed necessary to Emily Whose spirits and frame Were equally varied by the Occurrences and exertions of the day But she would not leave Madame Montoni till after the turn Of midnight a period then Thought so critical by the physicians Soon after twelve Having enjoined Annette To be wakeful and to call her Should any change appear for the worse Emily sorrowfully bade Madame Montoni good night And withdrew to her chamber Her spirits were more than usually Depressed by the piteous condition Of her aunt whose recovery She scarcely dared to expect To her own misfortunes She saw no period Enclosed as she was In a remote castle beyond the Reach of any friends had she Possessed such and beyond the Pity even of strangers To be in the power of a man Capable of any action Which his interest or his Ambition might suggest Occupied by melancholy reflections And by anticipations as sad She did not retire immediately To rest but leaned thoughtfully On her open casement The scene before her Of woods and mountains Reposing in the moonlight Formed a regretted Contrast with the state of her Mind but the lonely murmur Of these woods and the View of the sleeping landscape Gradually soothed her emotions And softened her to tears She continued to weep For some time lost to everything But to a gentle sense Of her misfortunes When she at length took the Handkerchief from her eyes She perceived before her on the Terrace below the figure She had formerly observed She stood fixed and silent Immediately opposite to her casement On perceiving it She started back And terror for some time Overcame curiosity At length she turned to the Casement and still the figure Was before it which she now Compelled herself to observe But was utterly unable to speak As she had formerly intended The moon shone with a clear Light and it was perhaps One of her mind that prevented her Distinguishing with any degree Of accuracy the form before her It was still stationary And she began to doubt Whether it was really animated Her scattered thoughts were Now so far returned as to Remind her that her light Exposed her to dangerous observation And she was stepping back To remove it when she perceived The figure move and then wave What seemed to be its arm As if to beckon her And while she gazed fixed in fear It repeated the action She now attempted to speak But the words died on her lips And she went from the casement To remove her light as she was Doing which she heard from Without a faint groan Listening but not daring To return she presently heard it Repeated Good God What can this mean said she Again she listened But the sound came no more And after a long interval of silence She recovered courage enough To go to the casement When she again saw the same appearance It beckoned again And again uttered a low sound That groan was surely human Said she I will speak Who is it cried Emily in a faint voice That wonders at this late hour The figure raised its head But suddenly started away And glided down the terrace She watched it for a long while Passing swiftly in the moonlight But heard no footstep Till a sentinel from the other Extremity of the rampad Walked slowly along The man stopped under her window And looking up called her by name She was retiring precipitately But a second summons Inducing her to reply The soldier then respectfully asked If she had seen anything pass On her answering that she had He said no more But walked away down the terrace Emily following him with her eyes Till he was lost in the distance But as he was on guard She knew he could not go Beyond the rampad And therefore resolved to await His return Soon after his voice was heard At a distance calling loudly And then a voice still more distant Answered and in the next moment The watch ward was given And passed along the terrace As the soldiers moved hastily Under the casement She called to inquire what had happened But they passed without regarding her Emily's thoughts returning to the figure She had seen It cannot be a person Who has designs upon the castle Said she Such an one would conduct himself Very differently He would not venture where sentinels were on watch Nor fix himself opposite to a window Where he perceived He must be observed much less Would he be gone Or utter a sound of complaint Yes, it cannot be a prisoner For how could he obtain the opportunity To wander thus If she had been subject to vanity She might have supposed This figure to be some inhabitant Of the castle who wandered Under her casement in the hope of seeing her And of being allowed to declare His admiration But this opinion never occurred to Emily And if it had She would have dismissed it as improbable On considering that When the opportunity of speaking had occurred It had been suffered To pass in silence And that, even at that moment In which she had spoken The form had abruptly quitted the place While she mused Two sentinels walked up the rampat In earnest conversation Of which she caught a few words And learned from these That one of their comrades Had fallen down senseless Soon after, three other soldiers Appeared slowly advancing from the bottom Of the terrace But she heard only a low voice That came at intervals As the junior, she perceived this To be the voice of him Who walked in the middle, apparently supported By his comrades And she again called to them Inquiring what had happened At the sound of her voice They stopped and looked up While she repeated her question And was told that Roboto Their fellow of the watch Had been seized with a fit And that his cry as he fell Had caused a false alarm Is he subject to fits? Said Emily Yes, Senora, replied Roboto To have frightened the Pope himself What was it? Enquired Emily trembling I cannot tell what it was Lady or what I saw Or how it vanished Replied the soldier Who seemed to shudder at the recollection Was it the person whom you followed Down the rampat that has occasioned You this alarm? Said Emily, endeavouring to conceal Her own Person exclaimed the man The devil and this is not the first time I have seen him Nor will it be the last Observed one of his comrades laughing No, no, I warrant not Said another Well, rejoined Roboto You may be as merry now as you please You was none so jokous The other night, Sebastian When you was on watch with Lancelot Lancelot Need not talk of that Replied Sebastian Stood trembling and unable to give the word Till the man was gone If the man had not come So silently upon us I would have seized him And soon made him tell who he was What man Enquired Emily It was no man, lady Said Lancelot who stood by But the devil himself as my comrade says What man Who does not live in the castle Could get within the walls at midnight Why, I might just as well pretend to march to Venice And get among all the senators When they are counselling And I warrant I should have More chance of getting out again Alive than any fellow That we should catch within the gates After dark So I think I have proved plainly enough That this can be nobody that lives out of the castle And now I will prove That it can be nobody that lives In the castle For if he did Nobody be afraid to be seen So after this I hope Nobody will pretend to tell me it was anybody No I say again By holy pope it was the devil And Sebastian there knows This is not the first time we have seen him When did you see the figure then before Said Emily half smiling Who, though she thought The conversation somewhat too much Felt an interest Which would not permit her to conclude it About a week ago lady Said Sebastian taking up the story And where On the ramp at lady higher up Did you pursue it That it fled No sonnara Lancelot and I were on watch together And everything was so still You might have heard a mouse stir When suddenly Lancelot says Sebastian do you see nothing I turned my head a little To the left As it might be us No says I Hush said Lancelot Look yonder just by the last Canon on the ramp at I looked and then Thought I did see something move But there being no light But what the stars gave I could not be certain We stood quiet silent To watch it and presently saw Something pass along the castle wall Just opposite to us Why did you not see it then Cried a soldier Who had scarcely spoken till now Hey, why did you not see it Said Roboto You should have been there to have done that Replied Sebastian You would have been bold enough to have taken it By the throat Though it had been the devil himself We could not take such a liberty perhaps Because we are not so well acquainted With him as you are As you are But as I was saying It stole by us so quickly That we had no time to get rid of Our surprise before it was gone Then we knew it was in vain to follow We kept constant watch all that night But we saw it no more Next morning we told some Of our comrades who were on duty On other parts of the ramparts What we had seen but they had seen Nothing and laughed at us And it was not till tonight That the same figure walked again Where did you lose it friend Said Emily to Roboto When I left you lady Replied the man you might see me go around The rampart but it was not Till I reached the east terrace that I Saw anything Then the moon shining bright I saw something Like a shadow flitting before me As it were at some distance I stopped when I turned the Corner of the east tower Where I had seen this figure not a moment Before but it was gone As I stood looking through the old arch Which leads to the east rampart And where I am sure it had passed I heard all of a sudden Such a sound It was not like a groan Or a cry or a shout or anything I have ever heard in my life I heard it only once And that was enough for me For I know nothing that happened after Till I found my comrades here About me Come said Sebastian Let us go to our post The moon is setting Good night lady Let us go Rejoin Roboto Good night lady Good night As she closed her casement And tried to reflect upon The strange circumstance that had just Occurred Connecting witch with what had happened On former nights She arrived from the whole something More positive than conjecture But her imagination was inflamed While her judgment was not Enlightened And the terrors of superstition Again pervaded her mind End of Volume 3, Chapter 3 Part 2 of 2 Recording by Red Abriss June 2008 For more information And to find out how you can volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org The Mysteries of Udalfo By Anne Radcliffe Volume 3, Chapter 4 There is one within Besides the things that we have Heard and seen Recounts most horrid sights Seen by the watch Julius Caesar In the morning Emily found Me nearly in the same condition As on the preceding night She had slept little And that little had not refreshed her She smiled on her niece And seemed cheered by her presence But spoke only a few words And never named Montoni Who, however, soon after Entered the room His wife, when she understood That he was there, appeared much agitated But was entirely silent Till Emily rose from a chair When she begged, in a feeble voice That she would not leave her The visit of Montoni was not To soothe his wife, whom he knew To be dying, or to console Or to ask her forgiveness But to make a last effort To procure that signature Which would transfer her estates In Languedoc, after her death To him, rather than to Emily This was a scene That exhibited on his part His usual inhumanity And, on that of Madame Montoni A persevering spirit Contending with a feeble frame While Emily repeatedly declared to him Her willingness to resign All claim to those estates Rather than that The last hours of her act Should be disturbed by contention Montoni, however, did not leave The room till his wife, exhausted By the obstinate dispute, had fainted And she lay so long insensible That Emily began to fear That the spark of life was extinguished At length she revived And, looking feebly up at her niece Whose tears were falling over her Made an effort to speak But her words were unintelligible And Emily again apprehended She was dying Afterwards, however, she recovered Her speech, and being somewhat Restored by a cordial Conversed for a considerable time On the subject of her estates Awareness and precision She directed her niece where to find Some papers relative to them Which she had hitherto concealed From the search of Montoni And earnestly charged her never to suffer Those papers to escape her Soon after this conversation Madame Montoni sunk into a dose And continued slumbering till evening When she seemed better than she had Been since her removal from the turret Emily never left her for a moment Till long after midnight And even then would not have quitted The room had not her aunt entreated That she would retire to rest She then obeyed more willingly Because her patient appeared somewhat Recruited by sleep And giving Annette the same injunction As on the preceding night She withdrew to her own apartment But her spirits were wakeful and agitated And finding it impossible to sleep She determined to watch once more For the mysterious appearance That had so much interested And armed her It was now the second watch of the night And about the time when the figure had Before appeared Emily heard the passing steps of the sentinels On the rampart as they changed guard And when all was again silent She took her station on the casement Leaving her lamp in a remote part of the chamber That she might escape notice from Without The moon gave a faint and uncertain light For heavy vapours surrounded it And, often rolling over the disk Left the scene below in total darkness It was in one of these moments of obscurity That she observed a small and lambent flame Moving at some distance on the terrace While she gazed It disappeared And the moon again emerging from the lurid And heavy thunderclouds She turned her attention to the heavens Where the vivid lighting started From cloud to cloud And flashed silently on the woods below She loved to catch In the momentary glow She loved to catch in the momentary gleam The gloomy landscape Sometimes a cloud opened its light Upon a distant mountain And while the sudden splendour loomed All its recesses of rock and wood The rest of the scene remained in deep shadow At others Partial features of the castle Were revealed by the glimpse The antient arch leading to the east rampart The turret above Or the fortifications beyond And then perhaps The whole edifice with all its towers Its dark, messy walls And pointed casements would appear And vanish in an instant Emily, looking again upon the rampart Perceived the flame she had seen before It moved onward And soon after she thought She heard a footstep The light appeared and disappeared frequently While as she watched It glided under her casements And at the same instant She was certain that a footstep passed But the darkness did not permit her To distinguish any object except the flame It moved away And then by a gleam of lightning She perceived some person on the terrace All the anxieties of the preceding night Returned This person advanced And the playing flame alternately appeared And vanished Emily wished to speak to end her doubts Whether this figure were human Or supernatural But her courage failed as often As she attempted utterance Till the light moved again under the casement And she faintly demanded Who passed A friend replied a voice What friend, said Emily, somewhat encouraged Who are you And what is that light you carry I am Antonio One of the senors soldiers Replied the voice And what is that tapering light You bear, said Emily, see how it darts Upwards and now it vanishes This light, lady, said the soldier Has appeared tonight as you see it On the point of my lance Ever since I have been on watch But what it means, I cannot tell This is very strange, said Emily My fellow guard continued the man Has the same flame on his arms He says he has sometimes seen it before I never did I am but lately come to the castle For I have not been long a soldier How does your comrade account for it? Said Emily He says it is an omen, lady, and bodes no good And what harm can it bode? Rejoined Emily He knows not so much as that, lady Whether Emily was alarmed by this omen Or not, she certainly was relieved From much terror by discovering this man To be only a soldier on duty And it immediately occurred to her That it might be he who had occasioned So much alarm on the ground That it might be him Who had occasioned so much alarm On the preceding night There were, however, some circumstances That still required explanation As far as she could judge By the faint moonlight That had assisted her observation The figures she had seen did not resemble This man either in shape or size Besides She was certain it had carried no arms The silence of its steps If steps it had The moaning sounds, too, which it had uttered And its strange disappearance Were circumstances of mysterious import That did not apply With probability To a soldier engaged in the duty of his guard She now inquired of the sentinel Whether he had seen any person beside His fellow watch Walking on the terrace about midnight And then briefly related what she had herself Observed I was not on guard that night, lady Replied the man, but I heard of what happened There are amongst us Who believe strange things Strange stories, too, have long Been told of this castle But it is no business of mine to repeat them And for my part I have no reason to complain Our chief does nobly bias I commend your prudent, said Emily Good night, and accept this from me She added, throwing him a small Peaceful coin, and then closing The casement to put an end to the discourse When he was gone She opened it again, listened With a gloomy pleasure to the distant thunder That began to murmur along the mountains And watched the airway lightnings Which broke over the remote her scene The peeling thunder rolled onward And then, reverbed by the mountains Other thunder seemed to answer From the opposite horizon While the accumulating clouds Entirely concealing the moon Assumed a red sulfurous tinge That foretold a violent storm Emily remained at her casement To the vivid lightning That now every instant Revealed the wide horizon And the landscape below Made it no longer safe to do so And she went to her couch But unable to compose her mind to sleep Still listened in silent awe To the tremendous sounds That seemed to shake the castle to its foundation She had continued thus For a considerable time When, amidst the uproar of the storm She thought she heard a voice And raising herself to listen Saw the chamber door open And a net enter with a countenance Of wild afright She is dying, menswell, my lady is dying Said she. Emily started up and ran To Madame Montoni's room. When she entered, her aunt appeared To have fainted, for she was quite still And insensible. And Emily, with a strength of mind That refused to yield to grief While any duty required her activity Applied every means that seemed likely To restore her. But the last struggle was over She was gone forever. When Emily perceived that all her efforts Were ineffectual, she interrogated The terrified Annette. And learned that Madame Montoni had fallen Into a dose soon after Emily's departure In which she had continued Until a few minutes before her death. I wondered, menswell, said Annette, What was the reason my lady Did not seem frightened at the thunder When I was so terrified To speak to her. But she appeared to be asleep Till presently I heard a strange noise And, ungoing to her, saw she was dying. Emily, at this recital, shed tears. She had no doubt But that the violent change in the air Which the tempest produced Had affected this fatal one On the exhausted frame of Madame Montoni. After some deliberation She determined that Montoni should not Be informed of this event till the morning For she considered Perhaps utter some inhuman expressions Such as in the present temper Of her spirits she could not bear. With Annette alone, therefore, Whom she encouraged by her own example She performed some of the last Solemn offices for the dead And compelled herself to watch during the night By the body of her deceased aunt. During the Solemn period Rendered more awful by the tremendous Storm that shook the air She frequently addressed herself to heaven For support and protection. And her pious prayers we may believe Were accepted of the God That giveth comfort. End of Volume 3, Chapter 4 Mason. When Montoni was informed Of the death of his wife And considered that she had died Without giving him the signature So necessary to the accomplishment Of his wishes. No sense of decency restrained The expression of his resentment. She deeply avoided his presence And watched during two days and two nights With little intermission By the corpse of her late aunt. Her mind deeply impressed With the unhappy fate of this object She forgot all her faults Her unjust and imperious conduct to herself And remembering only her sufferings Thought of her only with tender compassion Sometimes, however, She could not avoid musing upon The strange infatuation That had proved so fatal to her aunt. And involved herself In a labyrinth of misfortune From which she saw no means of escaping The marriage with Montoni. But when she considered this circumstance It was more in sorrow than in anger. More for the purpose of indulging Lamentation than reproach. In her pious care She was not disturbed by Montoni. Who not only avoided the chamber Where the remains of his wife were laid But that part of the castle Is joining to it. As if he had apprehended a contagion in death He seemed to have given no orders Respecting the funeral And Emily began to fear he meant To offer a new insult to the memory Of Madame Montoni. But from this apprehension she was relieved When on the evening of the second day Annette informed her That the interment was to take place That night. She knew that Montoni would not attend. She knew that Montoni would not attend. And it was so very grievous to her To think that the remains of her unfortunate aunt Would pass to the grave Without one relative Or friend to pay them The last decent rights That she determined to be deterred By no considerations for herself From observing this duty. She would otherwise have shrunk From the circumstance of following them To the cold vault To which they were to be carried by men Whose heir and countenance seemed To stamp them for murderers. At the midnight hour of silence And privacy which Montoni had chosen For committing, if possible To oblivion the relics of a woman Whom his harsh conduct had at least Contributed to destroy. Emily, shuddering with emotions Of horror and grief, assisted by Annette Prepared the corpse for interment. And having wrapped it in sermons And covered it with a winding sheet They watched beside it Till past midnight when they Heard the approaching footsteps of the men Who were to lay it in its earthly bed. It was with difficulty That Emily overcame her motion When the door of the chamber being thrown open Their gloomy countenances were seen By the glare of the torch they carried. And two of them, without speaking Lifted the body on their shoulders While the third preceded them With the light descending through The castle towards the grave Which was in the lower vault of the chapel Where they were to be carried Which was in the lower vault of the chapel Within the castle walls They had to cross two courts Towards the east wing of the castle Which, adjoining the chapel Was like it in runes But the silence and gloom of these courts Had now little power over Emily's mind Occupied as it was With more mournful ideas And she scarcely heard The low and dismal hooting of the nightbirds That roosted among the ivied Balance of the rune Or perceived the still flittings Of the bat which frequently crossed her way But when having entered the chapel And passed between the mouldering billers Of the aisles The bearers stopped at a flight of stairs That led down to a low arched door And their comrade having descended To unlock it She saw imperfectly the gloomy abyss Beyond Saw the corpse of her aunt Carry down these steps And the ruffian-like figure That stood with the torch at the bottom To receive it All her fortitude was lost In emotions of inexpressible grief And terror She turned to lean upon a net Who was cold and trembling like herself And she lingered so long On the summit of the flight That the gleam of the torch began To die away on the pillars of the chapel And the men were almost beyond her view Then the gloom around her Awakening other fears And a sense of what she considered to be her duty Overcoming her reluctance She descended to the vaults Following the echo of footsteps And the faint ray that pierced the darkness To the harsh grating of a distant door That was open to receive the corpse Again appalled her After the pause of a moment She went on And as she entered the vaults Saw between the arches at some distance The men lay down the body Near the edge of an open grave She viewed another of Montoni's men and a priest Whom she did not observe Till he began the burial service Then lifting her eyes from the ground She saw the venerable figure of the friar And heard him in low voice Equally solemn and affecting Performed the service for the dead At the moment in which they let down The body into the earth The scene was such as only the dark pencil Of a da Mancino perhaps Could have done justice to The fierce features and wild dress Of the condottieri Bending with their torches over the grave Into which the corpse was descending Were contrasted by the venerable figure Of the monk wrapped in long black garments His cowl thrown back From his pale face On which the light gleaming strongly Showed the lines of affliction Soften by piety And the few gray locks Which time had spared on his temples While beside him stood The softer form of Emily Looking for support upon a net Her face half averted and shaded By a thin veil That fell over her finger And her mild and beautiful continents Fixed in grief so solemn as admitted Not of tears While she thus saw committed untimely To the earth her last relative and friend The gleams thrown between The arches of the vaults Where, here and there, The broken ground marked the spots In which other bodies had been And the general obscurity Beyond were circumstances That alone would have led on the imagination Of a spectator to scenes more horrible Than even that which was pictured At the grave of the misguided and unfortunate Madame Montoni. When the service was over The friar regarded Emily with attention And surprise, and looked as if he wished To speak to her, but was restrained By the presence of the condottieri Who, as they now led their way To the courts, amused themselves With jokes upon his holy order Which he endured in silence Demanding only to be conducted Safely to his convent And to which Emily listened with concern In even horror. When they reached the court The monk gave her his blessing And after a lingering look of pity Turned away to the portal Wither one of the men carried a torch While Annette, lighting another Proceeded Emily to her apartment. The appearance of the friar And the expression tender compassion With which he had regarded her Had interested Emily Who, though it was at her earnest Supplication that Montoni had consented To allow a priest to perform The last rites for his deceased wife Knew nothing concerning this person Till Annette now informed her That he belonged to a monastery Situated among the mountains At a few miles distance. The superior, who regarded Montoni and his associates Not only with aversion But with terror, had probably feared To offend him by refusing his request And had therefore ordered a monk To officiate at the funeral Who, with the meek spirit of a Christian Had overcome his reluctance To enter the walls of such a castle By the wish of performing What he considered to be his duty And as the chapel was built On consecrated ground Had not objected to commit to it The remains of the late unhappy Madame Montoni. Several days passed With Emily in total seclusion And in a state of mind partaking Both of terror for herself And grief for the departed. She at length determined to make Other efforts to persuade Montoni To permit her return to France. Why he should wish to detain her She could scarcely dare to conjecture But it was too certain that he did so And the absolute refusal he had Formally given to her departure Allowed her little hope that he Would now consent to it. But the horror which his presence inspired Made her defer from day to day The mention of this subject And at last she was awakened From her inactivity only by a message From him desiring her attendance At a certain hour. She began to hope he meant to resign Now that her aunt was no more The authority he had usurped Over her, till she recollected That the estates which had occasioned So much content to her Were now hers. And she then feared Montoni was About to employ some stratagem For obtaining them, and that he Would detain her, his prisoner, till He succeeded. This thought, instead of overcoming Her with despondency, roused all The latent powers of her fortitude Into action, and the property Which she would willingly have resigned To secure the peace of her aunt She resolved that no common Sufferings of her own should ever Compel her to give to Montoni. For Valencor's sake also she Determined to preserve these estates Since they would afford that Competency, by which she hoped To secure the comfort of their Future lives. As she thought of this, she indulged The tenderness of tears, and Anticipated the delight of that Moment, when, with affectionate Generosity, she might tell him They were his own. She saw the smile that lighted Up his features, the affectionate Regard, which spoke at once His joy and thanks. And at this instant she believed She could brave any suffering Which the evil spirit of Montoni Might be preparing for her. Remembering then, for the first Time since her aunt's death, the Papers relative to the estates In question, she determined to Search for them as soon as her Interview with Montoni was over. With these resolutions she met With time, and waited to hear his Intention before she renewed her Request. With him were Orsino and another Officer, and both were standing Near a table, covered with papers Which he appeared to be examining. I sent for you Emily, said Montoni Raising his head, that you might Be a witness in some business Which I am transacting with my friend Orsino. All that is required Of you will be to sign your name To this paper. Montoni went up, hurried Unintelligibly over some lines And laying it before her on the Table offered her a pen. She took it, and was going to Write when the design of Montoni Came upon her mind like a flash Of lightning. She trembled, let The pen fall, and refused to sign What she had not read. Montoni affected to laugh at Her scruples, and taking up the Paper again pretended to read. But Emily, who still trembled In danger, and was astonished That her own credulity had so nearly Betrayed her, positively refused To sign any paper whatever. Montoni, for some time, persevered In effecting to ridicule this Refusal. But when he perceived By her steady perseverance that She understood his design, he Changed his manner, and bade Her follow him to another room. There he told her that he had Been willing to spare himself, and Heard the trouble of useless In an affair where his will was Justice, and where she should Find it law, and had therefore Endeavored to persuade rather than To compel her to the practice of Her duty. I, as the husband of The late Signora Montoni, he Added, and the air of all she Possessed. The estates, therefore Which she refused to me in her Lifetime, can no longer be Withheld. And for your own Sake, I would undiseive you Respecting a foolish assertion She once made to you in my hearing That these estates would be yours If she died without resigning Them to me. She knew at that Moment she had no power to withhold Them from me, after her decease. And I think you have more sense Than to provoke my resentment By advancing an unjust claim. I am not in the habit of flattering And you will, therefore, receive As sincere the praise I bestow When I say that you possess An understanding superior to that Of your sex, and that you have None of those contemptible foibles That frequently mark the female Character, such as a verse And the love of power, which Ladder makes women delight to Contradict and to tease when They cannot conquer.  Montoni paused And Emily remained silent and expecting For she knew him too well to Send to such flattery unless he thought It would promote his own interest. And though he had foreborn To name vanity among the foibles Of women, it was evident that he Considered it to be a predominant One, since he designed to sacrifice To hers the character and understanding Of her whole sex. Judging as I do, resumed Montoni, I cannot believe you will oppose Where you know you cannot conquer Or indeed that you would wish to conquer Or be avaricious of any property When you have not justice on your side. I think it proper, however, to Acquaint you with the alternative. If you have a just opinion of the Subject in question, you shall be Allowed a safe conveyance to France Within a short period. But if you are so unhappy as to Be misled by the late assertion Of the Signora, you shall remain My prisoner till you are convinced Of your error. Emily calmly said, I am not Your ignorance, senior, of the laws On this subject, as to be misled By the assertion of any person. The law, in the present instance, Gives me the estates in question, And my own hand shall never betray My right. I have been mistaken in my opinion Of you, it appears, rejoined Montoni sternly.  For once I am willing To pardon the conceit of ignorance The weakness of your sex, too, From which it seems you are not exempt Claim some allowance. But if you persist in this strain You have everything to fear from my justice. From your justice, senior, Rejoined Emily, I have nothing to fear. I have only to hope. Montoni looked at her with Vaccation, and seemed Considering what to say. I find that you are weak enough, He resumed to credit the idle Assertion I alluded to. For your own sake I lament this. As to me it is of little consequence. Your credulity can punish only Yourself, and I must pity the weakness Of mine, which leads you To so much suffering as you are Compelling me to prepare for you. You may find, perhaps, In your, said Emily, with mild Dignity, that the strength of My mind is equal to the justice Of my cause, and that I can endure With fortitude when it is in Resistance of oppression. You speak like a heroine, Said Montoni contemptuously. We shall see whether you Suffer like one. Emily was silent, and he left The room, recollecting that It was for valentine's sake She had thus resisted. She now smiled complacently upon The threatened sufferings, and Retired to the spot which her aunt Had pointed out as the repository Of the papers, relative to the Estates, where she found them And since she knew of no better place Of concealment than this, returned Them without examining their contents, Being fearful of discovery While she should attempt a perusal To her own solitary chamber She once more returned, and there Thought again of the late Conversation with Montoni, and Of the evil she might expect From opposition to his will. But his power did not appear So terrible to her imagination As it was want to do. A sacred pride was in her heart That taught it to swell against The pressure of injustice, and Almost to glory in the quiet Sufferance of ills, in a cause Which had also the interest of Allancourt for its object. For the first time she felt The full extent of her own Superiority to Montoni, and Despised the authority which Till now she had only feared. As she sat musing, a Peel of laughter rose from Going to the casement she saw With inexpressible surprise Three ladies dressed in the gala Habit of Venice, walking with Several gentlemen below. She gazed in an astonishment That made her remain at the window Regardless of being observed till The group passed under it. And one of the strangers looking up She perceived the features of Signora Livona, with whose Manors she had been so much Charmed the day after her arrival Who had been there introduced at the table Of Montoni. This discovery occasioned her An emotion of doubtful joy. For it was matter of joy and Comfort to know that a person Of a mind so gentle, as Out of Signora Livona seemed to be Was near her. Yet there was Something so extraordinary in her Being at this castle, circumstanced As it now was, and evidently By the gaiety of her air, with Her own consent, that a very Unfult surmise arose concerning her Character. But the thought was So shocking to Emily, whose Affection in the fascinating manners Of the Signora had won, and appeared So improbable when she remembered These manners, that she dismissed it Almost instantly. On Annette's Appearance, however, she inquired Concerning these strangers, and The former was as eager to tell As Emily was to learn. They are just coming as well, Said Annette, with two Signoras From Venice. And I was glad to see such Christian faces once again. But what can they mean by coming Here? They must surely be Stark mad to come freely to such A place as this. Yet they do Come freely, for they seem merry Enough, I am sure. They were Taking prisoners, perhaps? Said Emily. Taking prisoners, Exclaimed Annette. No, indeed Memzuel, not they. I remember One of them very well at Venice. She came two or three times To the Signoras, you know, Memzuel. And it was said, but I did not Believe a word of it, it was Said that the Signora liked her Better than he should do. Then why, says I, bring her to My lady? Very true, said Ludovico. But he looked as if he knew More, too. Emily desired Annette would endeavor to learn Who these ladies were, as well As all she could concerning them. And she then changed The subject and spoke of distant France. I am, Memzuel. We shall never see It more, said Annette, almost weeping. I must come on my travels, first soothe. Emily tried to soothe and to Cheer her with a hope in which She scarcely herself indulged. How, how, Memzuel, could you leave France and leave Monsieur Valencourt, too? said Annette, Solving. I am sure if Ludovico had been in France I would never have left it. Why do you lament quitting France, then? Said Emily, trying to smile. Since, if you had remained there, You would not have found Ludovico. Ah, Memzuel. I only wish I was out of this frightful castle Serving you in France. And I would care about nothing else. Thank you, my good Annette, For your affectionate regard. The time will come, my hope, When you may remember the expression Of that wish with pleasure. Annette departed under business, Emily sought to lose the sense Of her own cares in the visionary scenes Of the poet. But she had again to lament the Irresistible force of circumstances Over the taste and powers of the mind. And then it requires a spirit At ease to be sensible Even to the abstract pleasures Of pure intellect. The enthusiasm of genius With all its pictured scenes Now appeared cold and dim. As she mused upon the book Before her, she involuntarily exclaimed, Are these indeed the passages That have so often given me Exquisite delight? Where did the charm exist? Was it in my mind? Or in the imagination of the poet? It lived in each, said she, pausing. But the fire of the poet is vain If the mind of his reader Is not tempered like his own. However it may be inferior To his in power. Emily would have pursued This train of thinking Because it relieved her From more painful reflection. But she found again that thought Cannot always be controlled by will, And hers returned to the consideration Of her own situation. In the evening, Not choosing to venture down To the ramparts where she would Be exposed to the rude gaze Of Montoni's associates, She walked for air in the gallery Adjoining her chamber. At her end of which she heard the distant sounds Of merryment and laughter. It was the wild uproar of riot, Not the cheering gaiety of tempered mirth, And seemed to come from that part Of the castle where Montoni usually was. Such sounds at this time When her aunt had been so few days dead, Particularly shocked her, Consistent as they were With the late conduct of Montoni. As she listened, She thought she distinguished female voices Mangling with the laughter. And this confirmed her worst surmise Concerning the character of Senora Levona And her companions. It was evident that they had not Been brought hither by compulsion. And she beheld herself In the remote wilds of the Apennine Surrounded by men whom she considered To be little less than ruffians, And their worst associates Amid scenes of vice, From which her soul recoiled in horror. It was at this moment When the scenes of the present And the future opened to her imagination, The image of Valenkur Failed in its influence, And her resolution shook with dread. She thought she understood All the horrors which Montoni was Preparing for her. And shrunk from an encounter With such remorseless vengeance As he could inflict. The disputed estates she now Almost determined to yield at once. Whenever he should again call upon her That she might regain safety And freedom, but then the remembrance Of Valenkur would steal to her heart And plunger into the distractions Of doubt. She continued walking in the gallery Till evening through its melancholy twilight Through the painted casements, And deep in the gloom of the oak Wainscotting about her, while the Distant perspective of the corridor Was so much obscured as to be discernable Only by the glimmering window That terminated it. Along the vaulted halls and passages Finally, at intervals, to this Remote part of the castle, and Seemed to render the succeeding stillness More dreary. Emily, however, unwilling to return To her more forlorn chamber With her Annette was not yet come, Still paced the gallery. As she passed the door of the Apartment, where she had once Dared to lift the veil, Which discovered to her a spectacle So horrible that she had never After remembered it, but with Of indescribable awe, this Remembrance suddenly recurred. It now brought with it reflections More terrible than it had yet Done, which the late conduct Of Montoni occasioned, And hastening to quit the gallery While she had power to do so. She heard a sudden step behind Her. It might be that of Annette, But turning fearfully to look, She saw, through the gloom, A tall figure following her, And all the horrors of that chamber Rushed upon her mind. In the next moment she found Herself clasped in the arms of Some person, and heard a deep Voice murmur in her ear. When she had power to speak, Or to distinguish articulated Sound, she demanded who detained Her. It is I, replied the voice. Why are you thus alarmed? She looked on the face of The person who spoke, but the Feeble light that gleamed through The high casement at the end Distinguished the features.  My charming Emily, said the man, Why will you shut yourself up In this obscure place, when there Is so much gaiety below? Return with me to the cedar parlor Where you will be the fairest ornament Of the party. You shall not repent the exchange. Emily disdained to reply, And still endeavored to liberate Herself. Promise that you will come, he continued, And I will release you immediately, But first give me a reward for doing so. Who are you, demanded Emily, In a tone of mingled terror and Ignatiation, while she still Struggled for liberty? Who are you that you have the cruelty thus To insult me? Why call me cruel, said the man? I would remove you from this dreary Solitude to a merry party below. Do you not know me? Emily now faintly remembered That he was one of the officers Who were with Montoni when she Attended him in the morning. I thank you for the kindness of your Intention, she replied, Without appearing to understand him. But I wish for nothing so much As that you would lead me. Charming Emily, said he, Give up this foolish whim for solitude And come with me to the company And eclipse the beauties who make Part of it.  But the strong impulse of her Indignation gave her power to Liberate herself, and she fled Towards the chamber. She closed the door before he Reached it, having secured which She sunk in a chair, overcome By terror, and by the exertion She had made, while she heard His voice and his attempts to Open the door without having the Power to raise herself. At length she perceived him Depart, and had remained listening Not revived by not hearing any sound When suddenly she remembered the door Of the private staircase, and that He might enter that way, since it was Fastened only on the other side. She then employed herself In endeavouring to secure it In the manner she had formally done. It appeared to her that Montoni had already commenced His scheme of vengeance, by Withdrawing from her his protection And she repented of the rashness That had made her brave the power Of such a man. To retain the Estates seemed to be now utterly Impossible, and to preserve Her life, perhaps her honour, she Resolved, if she should escape The horrors of this night, to give Up all claims to the estates on The moral, providing Montoni would Suffer her to depart from Adolfo. When she had come to this decision Her mind became more composed, Though she still anxiously listened And often started at ideal Sounds that appeared to issue This staircase. Having sat in Darkness for some hours During all which time Annette Did not appear, she began to Have serious apprehensions for her, But not daring to venture down into The castle was compelled to remain An uncertainty, as to the cause Of this unusual absence. Emily often stole to the staircase Door to listen if any step Approached, but still no sound Alarmed her. Determining, however, To watch during the night, she once Upon her dark and desolate couch And bade the pillow with innocent tears. She thought of her deceased parents And then of the absent Fallen Coeur And frequently called upon their names For the profound stillness that Now reigned was propitious to The musing sorrow of her mind. While she thus remained, her ears Suddenly caught the notes of a Distant music, to which she Listened attentively, and soon Perceiving this to be the instrument She had formally heard at midnight And stepped softly to the casement To which the sounds appeared to come From a lower room. In a few moments Their soft melody was accompanied by A voice so full of pathos That it evidently sang Not of imaginary sorrows. It's sweet and peculiar tone She thought she had heard somewhere Before. Yet, if this was Not fancy, it was at most A very faint recollection. It stole over her mind Amidst the anguish of her present Suffering, like a celestial strain Soothing and reassuring her. Pleasant is the gale of spring That sighs on the hunter's ear When he awakens from dreams of joy And has heard the music Of the spirits of the hill. Ocean, A.R. But her emotion can scarcely Be imagined when she heard sung With the taste and simplicity Of true feeling, one of the Popular areas of her native province To which she had often listened With delight when a child And which she had so often heard Her father repeat. To this well-known song, never till Now, heard but in her native Country, her heart melted While the memory of pastimes Returned. The pleasant, Peaceful scenes of Gascony The tenderness and goodness of her Parents, the taste and simplicity Of her former life, all rose To her fancy and formed a picture So sweet and glowing, so strikingly Contrasted with the scenes, the characters And the dangers that which now surrounded Her, that her mind could not bear To pause upon the retrospect And shrunk at the acuteness Of its own sufferings. Her sighs were deep and convulsed. She could no longer listen to the Strain that had so often charmed Her to tranquility, and she Went through from the casement To remote her part of the chamber. But she was not yet beyond The reach of the music. She heard The measure change, and the succeeding air Called her again to the window, for She immediately recollected it to be The same as she had formally heard In the fishing-house in Gascony. Assisted, perhaps, by the mystery Which had then accompanied this strain, It made so deep an impression On her memory, that she had never Since entirely forgotten it. And the manner in which It was now sung convinced her, However unaccountable the Circumstances appeared, that This was the same voice she had Then heard. Surprise soon yielded To other emotions. A thought darted like lightning Upon her mind which discovered A train of hopes that revived All her spirits. Yet these hopes Were so new, so unexpected, so Astonishing, that she did Not dare to trust, though She could not resolve to discourage Them. She sat down by the Casement, breathless, and overcome With the alternate motions of hope Here. Then rose again, Leaned from the window That she might catch nearer sound Listened, now doubting, and then believing Softly exclaimed the name of Valencourt. And then sunk again into the chair. Yes, it was possible That Valencourt was near her. And she recollected Circumstances Which induced her to believe It was his voice she had just heard. She remembered he had more Than once said that the Wishing-house where she had formally Listened to this voice and air And where she had seen penciled Sonnets addressed to herself Had been his favourite haunt Before he had been made known to her. There, too, she had herself Unexpectedly met him. It appeared from these circumstances More than probable that he was The musician who had formally Charmed her attention and the author Of the lines which had expressed Such tender admiration. How else indeed could it be? She was unable, at that time To form a conjecture as to the writer. But Since her acquaintance with Valencourt Whenever he had mentioned the Fishing-house to have been known to him She had not scrupled to believe That he was the author of the Sonnets. As these considerations Passed over her mind Joy, fear, and tenderness Contended at her heart She leaned again from the casement Of the sounds which might confirm Or destroy her hope Though she did not recollect To have ever heard him sing But the voice and the instrument now ceased. She considered for a moment Whether she should venture to speak. Then not choosing lest it should be He to mention his name And yet too much interested To neglect the opportunity of inquiring She called from the casement Is that song from Gascony? Her anxious attention was not Cheered by any reply Everything remained silent Her impatience increasing with her fears She repeated the question But still no sound was heard Except the sighings of the wind Among the battlements above And she endeavored to console herself With the belief that the stranger Whoever he was had retired Before she had spoken Beyond the reach of her voice Which had appeared certain Had Valenkor heard and recognized He would instantly have replied to Presently however She considered that a motive of prudence And not an accidental removal Might occasion his silence But the surmise that led to this reflection Suddenly changed her hope and joy To terror and grief For if Valenkor were in the castle It was too probable That he was here a prisoner Taken with some of his countrymen Many of whom were at that time Engaged in the wars of Italy Or intercepted in some attempt To reach her Had he even recollected Emily's voice He would have feared in these circumstances To reply to it in the presence of the men Who guarded his prison What so lately she had eagerly hoped She now believed she dreaded Dreaded to know that Valenkor Was near her And while she was anxious to be Relieved from her apprehension For his safety She still was unconscious That a hope of soon seeing him Struggled with the fear She remained listening at the casement Till the air began to freshen And one high mountain in the east To glimmer with the morning When wearied with anxiety She retired to her couch Where she found it utterly impossible To sleep for joy, tenderness, Doubt, and apprehension Distracted her during the whole night Now she rose from the couch And opened the casement to listen Then she would pace the room With impatient steps, and at length Returned with despondence to her pillow Never did hours appear To move so heavily As those of this anxious night After which she hoped that Annette Might appear, and conclude her Present state of torturing suspense End of Volume 3, Chapter 5