Emily now laid herself down on the mattress, and
desired Annette to leave the lamp burning on the hearth; having done
which, the latter placed herself beside Emily, who, however, was not
suffered to sleep, for she again thought she heard a noise from the
passage; and Annette was again trying to convince her, that it was only
the wind, when footsteps were distinctly heard near the door. Annette
was now starting from the bed, but Emily prevailed with her to remain
there, and listened with her in a state of terrible expectation. The
steps still loitered at the door, when presently an attempt was made on
the lock, and, in the next instant, a voice called. 'For heaven's sake,
Annette, do not answer,' said Emily softly, 'remain quite still; but I
fear we must extinguish the lamp, or its glare will betray us.'
'Holy Virgin!' exclaimed Annette, forgetting her discretion, 'I would not be
in darkness now for the whole world.' While she spoke, the voice became
louder than before, and repeated Annette's name; 'Blessed Virgin!' cried
she suddenly, 'it is only Ludovico.' She rose to open the door, but
Emily prevented her, till they should be more certain, that it was he
alone; with whom Annette, at length, talked for some time, and learned,
that he was come to enquire after herself, whom he had let out of her
room to go to Emily, and that he was now returned to lock her in again.
Emily, fearful of being overheard, if they conversed any longer through
the door, consented that it should be opened, and a young man appeared,
whose open countenance confirmed the favourable opinion of him, which
his care of Annette had already prompted her to form. She entreated his
protection, should Verezzi make this requisite; and Ludovico offered
to pass the night in an old chamber, adjoining, that opened from the
gallery, and, on the first alarm, to come to their defence.
Emily was much soothed by this proposal; and Ludovico, having lighted
his lamp, went to his station, while she, once more, endeavoured to
repose on her mattress. But a variety of interests pressed upon her
attention, and prevented sleep. She thought much on what Annette had
told her of the dissolute manners of Montoni and his associates, and
more of his present conduct towards herself, and of the danger, from
which she had just escaped.
From the view of her present situation she
shrunk, as from a new picture of terror. She saw herself in a castle,
inhabited by vice and violence, seated beyond the reach of law or
justice, and in the power of a man, whose perseverance was equal to
every occasion, and in whom passions, of which revenge was not the
weakest, entirely supplied the place of principles. She was compelled,
once more, to acknowledge, that it would be folly, and not fortitude,
any longer to dare his power; and, resigning all hopes of future
happiness with Valancourt, she determined, that, on the following
morning, she would compromise with Montoni, and give up her estates,
on condition, that he would permit her immediate return to France. Such
considerations kept her waking for many hours; but, the night passed,
without further alarm from Verezzi.