'Ah!' said she, with a heavy sigh, as she threw herself
into a chair by the window, 'how often have we sat together in this
spot--often have looked upon that landscape! Never, never more shall we
view it together--never--never more, perhaps, shall we look upon each
other!' Her tears were suddenly stopped by terror--a voice spoke near her in
the pavilion; she shrieked--it spoke again, and she distinguished the
well-known tones of Valancourt. It was indeed Valancourt who supported
her in his arms! For some moments their emotion would not suffer either
to speak. 'Emily,' said Valancourt at length, as he pressed her hand in
his. 'Emily!' and he was again silent, but the accent, in which he had
pronounced her name, expressed all his tenderness and sorrow.
'O my Emily!' he resumed, after a long pause, 'I do then see you once
again, and hear again the sound of that voice! I have haunted this
place--these gardens, for many--many nights, with a faint, very faint
hope of seeing you. This was the only chance that remained to me, and
thank heaven! it has at length succeeded--I am not condemned to absolute
despair!' Emily said something, she scarcely knew what, expressive of her
unalterable affection, and endeavoured to calm the agitation of
his mind; but Valancourt could for some time only utter incoherent
expressions of his emotions; and, when he was somewhat more composed, he
said, 'I came hither, soon after sun-set, and have been watching in the
gardens, and in this pavilion ever since; for, though I had now given up
all hope of seeing you, I could not resolve to tear myself from a place
so near to you, and should probably have lingered about the chateau till
morning dawned. O how heavily the moments have passed, yet with what
various emotion have they been marked, as I sometimes thought I heard
footsteps, and fancied you were approaching, and then again--perceived
only a dead and dreary silence! But, when you opened the door of the
pavilion, and the darkness prevented my distinguishing with certainty,
whether it was my love--my heart beat so strongly with hopes and fears,
that I could not speak. The instant I heard the plaintive accents of
your voice, my doubts vanished, but not my fears, till you spoke of
me; then, losing the apprehension of alarming you in the excess of my
emotion, I could no longer be silent. O Emily! these are moments, in
which joy and grief struggle so powerfully for pre-eminence, that the
heart can scarcely support the contest!'
Emily's heart acknowledged the truth of this assertion, but the joy
she felt on thus meeting Valancourt, at the very moment when she was
lamenting, that they must probably meet no more, soon melted into grief,
as reflection stole over her thoughts, and imagination prompted visions
of the future. She struggled to recover the calm dignity of mind, which
was necessary to support her through this last interview, and which
Valancourt found it utterly impossible to attain, for the transports of
his joy changed abruptly into those of suffering, and he expressed in
the most impassioned language his horror of this separation, and his
despair of their ever meeting again. Emily wept silently as she listened
to him, and then, trying to command her own distress, and to sooth his,
she suggested every circumstance that could lead to hope. But the energy
of his fears led him instantly to detect the friendly fallacies, which
she endeavoured to impose on herself and him, and also to conjure up
illusions too powerful for his reason.