The Mysteries of Udolpho
hovel, which served for a stable, entered the room, half frantic with
joy, in which his auditors soon participated. On removing the saddle
from one of the horses, he had found beneath it a small bag,
containing, no doubt, the booty of one of the _Condottieri_, who had
returned from a plundering excursion, just before Ludovico left the
castle, and whose horse having strayed from the inner court, while his
master was engaged in drinking, had brought away the treasure, which
the ruffian had considered the reward of his exploit.
On counting over this, Du Pont found, that it would be more than
sufficient to carry them all to France, where he now determined to
accompany Emily, whether he should obtain intelligence of his regiment,
or not; for, though he had as much confidence in the integrity of
Ludovico, as his small knowledge of him allowed, he could not endure
the thought of committing her to his care for the voyage; nor, perhaps,
had he resolution enough to deny himself the dangerous pleasure, which
he might derive from her presence.
He now consulted them, concerning the sea-port, to which they should
direct their way, and Ludovico, better informed of the geography of the
country, said, that Leghorn was the nearest port of consequence, which
Du Pont knew also to be the most likely of any in Italy to assist their
plan, since from thence vessels of all nations were continually
departing. Thither, therefore, it was determined, that they should
proceed.
Emily, having purchased a little straw hat, such as was worn by the
peasant girls of Tuscany, and some other little necessary equipments
for the journey, and the travellers, having exchanged their tired
horses for others better able to carry them, recommenced their joyous
way, as the sun was rising over the mountains, and, after travelling
through this romantic country, for several hours, began to descend into
the vale of Arno. And here Emily beheld all the charms of sylvan and
pastoral landscape united, adorned with the elegant villas of the
Florentine nobles, and diversified with the various riches of
cultivation. How vivid the shrubs that embowered the slopes, with the
woods, that stretched amphitheatrically along the mountains! and, above
all, how elegant the outline of these waving Apennines, now softening
from the wildness, which their interior regions exhibited! At a
distance, in the east, Emily discovered Florence, with its towers
rising on the brilliant horizon, and its luxuriant plain, spreading to
the feet of the Apennines, speckled with gardens and magnificent
villas, or coloured with groves of orange and lemon, with vines, corn,
and plantations of olives and mulberry; while, to the west, the vale
opened to the waters of the Mediterranean, so distant, that they were
known only by a bluish line, that appeared upon the horizon, and by the
light marine vapour, which just stained the æther above.
With a full heart, Emily hailed the waves, that were to bear her back
to her native country, the remembrance of which, however, brought with
it a pang; for she had there no home to receive, no parents to welcome
her, but was going, like a forlorn pilgrim, to weep over the sad spot,
where he, who _was_ her father, lay interred. Nor were her spirits
cheered, when she considered how long it would probably be before she
should see Valancourt, who might be stationed with his regiment in a
distant part of France, and that, when they did meet, it would be only
to lament the successful villany of Montoni; yet, still she would have
felt inexpressible delight at the thought of being once more in the
same country with Valancourt, had it even been certain, that she could
not see him.
The intense heat, for it was now noon, obliged the travellers to look
out for a shady recess, where they might rest, for a few hours, and the
neighbouring thickets, abounding with wild grapes, raspberries, and
figs, promised them grateful refreshment. Soon after, they turned from
the road into a grove, whose thick foliage entirely excluded the
sunbeams, and where a spring, gushing from the rock, gave coolness to
the air; and, having alighted and turned the horses to graze, Annette
and Ludovico ran to gather fruit from the surrounding thickets, of
which they soon returned with an abundance. The travellers, seated
under the shade of a pine and cypress grove and on turf, enriched with
such a profusion of fragrant flowers, as Emily had scarcely ever seen,
even among the Pyrenees, took their simple repast, and viewed, with new
delight, beneath the dark umbrage of gigantic pines, the glowing
landscape stretching to the sea.
Emily and Du Pont gradually became thoughtful and silent; but Annette
was all joy and loquacity, and Ludovico was gay, without forgetting the
respectful distance, which was due to his companions. The repast being
over, Du Pont recommended Emily to endeavour to sleep, during these
sultry hours, and, desiring the servants would do the same, said he
would watch the while; but Ludovico wished to spare him this trouble;
and Emily and Annette, wearied with travelling, tried to repose, while
he stood guard with his trombone.
When Emily, refreshed by slumber, awoke, she found the sentinel asleep
on his post and Du Pont awake, but lost in melancholy thought. As the
sun was yet too high to allow them to continue their journey, and as it
was necessary, that Ludovico, after the toils and trouble he had
suffered, should finish his sleep, Emily took this opportunity of
enquiring by what accident Du Pont became Montoni’s prisoner, and he,
pleased with the interest this enquiry expressed and with the excuse it
gave him for talking to her of himself, immediately answered her
curiosity.
“I came into Italy, madam,” said Du Pont, “in the service of my
country. In an adventure among the mountains our party, engaging with
the bands of Montoni, was routed, and I, with a few of my comrades, was
taken prisoner. When they told me, whose captive I was, the name of
Montoni struck me, for I remembered, that Madame Cheron, your aunt, had
married an Italian of that name, and that you had accompanied them into
Italy. It was not, however, till some time after, that I became
convinced this was the same Montoni, or learned that you, madam, was
under the same roof with myself. I will not pain you by describing what
were my emotions upon this discovery, which I owed to a sentinel, whom
I had so far won to my interest, that he granted me many indulgences,
one of which was very important to me, and somewhat dangerous to
himself; but he persisted in refusing to convey any letter, or notice
of my situation to you, for he justly dreaded a discovery and the
consequent vengeance of Montoni. He however enabled me to see you more
than once. You are surprised, madam, and I will explain myself. My
health and spirits suffered extremely from want of air and exercise,
and, at length, I gained so far upon the pity, or the avarice of the
man, that he gave me the means of walking on the terrace.”
Emily now listened, with very anxious attention, to the narrative of Du
Pont, who proceeded:
“In granting this indulgence, he knew, that he had nothing to apprehend
from a chance of my escaping from a castle, which was vigilantly
guarded, and the nearest terrace of which rose over a perpendicular
rock; he showed me also,” continued Du Pont, “a door concealed in the
cedar wainscot of the apartment where I was confined, which he
instructed me how to open; and which, leading into a passage, formed
within the thickness of the wall, that extended far along the castle,
finally opened in an obscure corner of the eastern rampart. I have
since been informed, that there are many passages of the same kind
concealed within the prodigious walls of that edifice, and which were,
undoubtedly, contrived for the purpose of facilitating escapes in time
of war. Through this avenue, at the dead of night, I often stole to the
terrace, where I walked with the utmost caution, lest my steps should
betray me to the sentinels on duty in distant parts; for this end of
it, being guarded by high buildings, was not watched by soldiers. In
one of these midnight wanderings, I saw light in a casement that
overlooked the rampart, and which, I observed, was immediately over my
prison-chamber. It occurred to me, that you might be in that apartment,
and, with the hope of seeing you, I placed myself opposite to the
window.”
Emily, remembering the figure that had formerly appeared on the
terrace, and which had occasioned her so much anxiety, exclaimed, “It
was you then, Monsieur Du Pont, who occasioned me much foolish terror;
my spirits were, at that time, so much weakened by long suffering, that
they took alarm at every hint.” Du Pont, after lamenting, that he had
occasioned her any apprehension, added, “As I rested on the wall,
opposite to your casement, the consideration of your melancholy
situation and of my own called from me involuntary sounds of
lamentation, which drew you, I fancy, to the casement; I saw there a
person, whom I believed to be you. O! I will say nothing of my emotion
at that moment; I wished to speak, but prudence restrained me, till the
distant foot-step of a sentinel compelled me suddenly to quit my
station.
“It was some time, before I had another opportunity of walking, for I
could only leave my prison, when it happened to be the turn of one man
to guard me; meanwhile I became convinced from some circumstances
related by him, that your apartment was over mine, and, when again I
ventured forth, I returned to your casement, where again I saw you, but
without daring to speak. I waved my hand, and you suddenly disappeared;
then it was, that I forgot my prudence, and yielded to lamentation;
again you appeared—you spoke—I heard the well-known accent of your
voice! and, at that moment, my discretion would have forsaken me again,
had I not heard also the approaching steps of a soldier, when I
instantly quitted the place, though not before the man had seen me. He
followed down the terrace and gained so fast upon me, that I was
compelled to make use of a stratagem, ridiculous enough, to save
myself. I had heard of the superstition of many of these men, and I
uttered a strange noise, with a hope, that my pursuer would mistake it
for something supernatural, and desist from pursuit. Luckily for myself
I succeeded; the man, it seems, was subject to fits, and the terror he
suffered threw him into one, by which accident I secured my retreat. A
sense of the danger I had escaped, and the increased watchfulness,
which my appearance had occasioned among the sentinels, deterred me
ever after from walking on the terrace; but, in the stillness of night,
I frequently beguiled myself with an old lute, procured for me by a
soldier, which I sometimes accompanied with my voice, and sometimes, I
will acknowledge, with a hope of making myself heard by you; but it was
only a few evenings ago, that this hope was answered. I then thought I
heard a voice in the wind, calling me; yet, even then I feared to
reply, lest the sentinel at the prison door should hear me. Was I
right, madam, in this conjecture—was it you who spoke?”
“Yes,” said Emily, with an involuntary sigh, “you were right indeed.”
Du Pont, observing the painful emotions, which this question revived,
now changed the subject. “In one of my excursions through the passage,
which I have mentioned, I overheard a singular conversation,” said he.
“In the passage!” said Emily, with surprise.
“I heard it in the passage,” said Du Pont, “but it proceeded from an
apartment, adjoining the wall, within which the passage wound, and the
shell of the wall was there so thin, and was also somewhat decayed,
that I could distinctly hear every word, spoken on the other side. It