'I need not bid you remember, Ludovico,' resumed Emily, 'how very much
interested I am in your seeing the Chevalier soon; and, when you do so,
tell him, that I have received the picture, and, with the sentiments he
wished. Tell him I have suffered much, and still suffer--' She paused.
'But shall I tell him you will see him, lady?' said Ludovico. 'Most
certainly I will,' replied Emily. 'But when, Signora, and where?' 'That
must depend upon circumstances,' returned Emily. 'The place, and the
hour, must be regulated by his opportunities.'
'As to the place, mademoiselle,' said Annette, 'there is no other place
in the castle, besides this corridor, where WE can see him in safety,
you know; and, as for the hour,--it must be when all the Signors are
asleep, if that ever happens!' 'You may mention these circumstances to
the Chevalier, Ludovico,' said she, checking the flippancy of Annette,
'and leave them to his judgment and opportunity. Tell him, my heart is
unchanged. But, above all, let him see you again as soon as possible;
and, Ludovico, I think it is needless to tell you I shall very anxiously
look for you.' Having then wished her good night, Ludovico descended
the staircase, and Emily retired to rest, but not to sleep, for joy now
rendered her as wakeful, as she had ever been from grief. Montoni and
his castle had all vanished from her mind, like the frightful vision of
a necromancer, and she wandered, once more, in fairy scenes of unfading
happiness:
As when, beneath the beam
Of summer moons, the distant woods among,
Or by some flood, all silver'd with the gleam,
The soft embodied Fays thro' airy portals stream.
A week elapsed, before Ludovico again visited the prison; for the
sentinels, during that period, were men, in whom he could not confide,
and he feared to awaken curiosity, by asking to see their prisoner. In
this interval, he communicated to Emily terrific reports of what
was passing in the castle; of riots, quarrels, and of carousals more
alarming than either; while from some circumstances, which he mentioned,
she not only doubted, whether Montoni meant ever to release her, but
greatly feared, that he had designs, concerning her,--such as she
had formerly dreaded.
Her name was frequently mentioned in the
conversations, which Bertolini and Verezzi held together, and, at those
times, they were frequently in contention. Montoni had lost large sums
to Verezzi, so that there was a dreadful possibility of his designing
her to be a substitute for the debt; but, as she was ignorant, that he
had formerly encouraged the hopes of Bertolini also, concerning herself,
after the latter had done him some signal service, she knew not how to
account for these contentions between Bertolini and Verezzi. The cause
of them, however, appeared to be of little consequence, for she thought
she saw destruction approaching in many forms, and her entreaties to
Ludovico to contrive an escape and to see the prisoner again, were more
urgent than ever.