The Mysteries of Udolpho

'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.