What reason have you to think it is Monsieur Valancourt, who sings? But
hark! now the voice swells louder! Do you recollect those tones? I fear
to trust my own judgment.' 'I never happened to hear the Chevalier
sing, Mademoiselle,' replied Annette, who, as Emily was disappointed to
perceive, had no stronger reason for concluding this to be Valancourt,
than that the musician must be a Frenchman. Soon after, she heard the
song of the fishing-house, and distinguished her own name, which was
repeated so distinctly, that Annette had heard it also. She trembled,
sunk into a chair by the window, and Annette called aloud, 'Monsieur
Valancourt! Monsieur Valancourt!' while Emily endeavoured to check her,
but she repeated the call more loudly than before, and the lute and the
voice suddenly stopped. Emily listened, for some time, in a state
of intolerable suspense; but, no answer being returned, 'It does not
signify, Mademoiselle,' said Annette; 'it is the Chevalier, and I will
speak to him.' 'No, Annette,' said Emily, 'I think I will speak myself;
if it is he, he will know my voice, and speak again.' 'Who is it,' said
she, 'that sings at this late hour?'
A long silence ensued, and, having repeated the question, she perceived
some faint accents, mingling in the blast, that swept by; but the sounds
were so distant, and passed so suddenly, that she could scarcely hear
them, much less distinguish the words they uttered, or recognise the
voice. After another pause, Emily called again; and again they heard
a voice, but as faintly as before; and they perceived, that there were
other circumstances, besides the strength, and direction of the wind, to
content with; for the great depth, at which the casements were fixed in
the castle walls, contributed, still more than the distance, to prevent
articulated sounds from being understood, though general ones were
easily heard. Emily, however, ventured to believe, from the circumstance
of her voice alone having been answered, that the stranger was
Valancourt, as well as that he knew her, and she gave herself up to
speechless joy.
Annette, however, was not speechless.--She renewed
her calls, but received no answer; and Emily, fearing, that a further
attempt, which certainly was, as present, highly dangerous, might expose
them to the guards of the castle, while it could not perhaps terminate
her suspense, insisted on Annette's dropping the enquiry for this night;
though she determined herself to question Ludovico, on the subject, in
the morning, more urgently than she had yet done. She was now enabled
to say, that the stranger, whom she had formerly heard, was still in
the castle, and to direct Ludovico to that part of it, in which he was
confined.