The Mysteries of Udolpho

'The Apennines!' said Emily, eagerly, 'O! then I have little to hope!

' 'That is the very place, ma'am. But cheer up, and do not take it so much

to heart, and think what a little time you have to get ready in, and how

impatient the Signor is. Holy St. Mark! I hear the oars on the canal;

and now they come nearer, and now they are dashing at the steps below;

it is the gondola, sure enough.'

Annette hastened from the room; and Emily prepared for this unexpected

flight, as fast as her trembling hands would permit, not perceiving,

that any change in her situation could possibly be for the worse. She

had scarcely thrown her books and clothes into her travelling

trunk, when, receiving a second summons, she went down to her aunt's

dressing-room, where she found Montoni impatiently reproving his wife

for delay. He went out, soon after, to give some further orders to his

people, and Emily then enquired the occasion of this hasty journey; but

her aunt appeared to be as ignorant as herself, and to undertake the

journey with more reluctance.

The family at length embarked, but neither Count Morano, nor Cavigni,

was of the party. Somewhat revived by observing this, Emily, when the

gondolieri dashed their oars in the water, and put off from the steps

of the portico, felt like a criminal, who receives a short reprieve. Her

heart beat yet lighter, when they emerged from the canal into the ocean,

and lighter still, when they skimmed past the walls of St. Mark, without

having stopped to take up Count Morano.

The dawn now began to tint the horizon, and to break upon the shores of

the Adriatic. Emily did not venture to ask any questions of Montoni, who

sat, for some time, in gloomy silence, and then rolled himself up in his

cloak, as if to sleep, while Madame Montoni did the same; but Emily, who

could not sleep, undrew one of the little curtains of the gondola,

and looked out upon the sea. The rising dawn now enlightened the

mountain-tops of Friuli, but their lower sides, and the distant waves,

that rolled at their feet, were still in deep shadow. Emily, sunk in

tranquil melancholy, watched the strengthening light spreading upon the

ocean, shewing successively Venice and her islets, and the shores of

Italy, along which boats, with their pointed latin sails, began to move.

The gondolieri were frequently hailed, at this early hour, by the

market-people, as they glided by towards Venice, and the lagune

soon displayed a gay scene of innumerable little barks, passing from

terra-firma with provisions. Emily gave a last look to that splendid

city, but her mind was then occupied by considering the probable events,

that awaited her, in the scenes, to which she was removing, and with

conjectures, concerning the motive of this sudden journey. It appeared,

upon calmer consideration, that Montoni was removing her to his secluded

castle, because he could there, with more probability of success,

attempt to terrify her into obedience; or, that, should its gloomy and

sequestered scenes fail of this effect, her forced marriage with the

Count could there be solemnized with the secrecy, which was necessary

to the honour of Montoni. The little spirit, which this reprieve had

recalled, now began to fail, and, when Emily reached the shore, her mind

had sunk into all its former depression.