The Mysteries of Udolpho

The singularity of the circumstance struck her, and she stopped

before it, wishing to remove the veil, and examine what could thus

carefully be concealed, but somewhat wanting courage. 'Holy Virgin! what

can this mean?' exclaimed Annette. 'This is surely the picture they told

me of at Venice.' 'What picture?' said Emily. 'Why a picture--a picture,' replied Annette,

hesitatingly--'but I never could make out exactly what it was about,

either.' 'Remove the veil, Annette.'

'What! I, ma'amselle!--I! not for the world!' Emily, turning round, saw

Annette's countenance grow pale. 'And pray, what have you heard of

this picture, to terrify you so, my good girl?' said she. 'Nothing,

ma'amselle: I have heard nothing, only let us find our way out.' 'Certainly: but I wish first to examine the picture; take the light,

Annette, while I lift the veil.' Annette took the light, and immediately

walked away with it, disregarding Emily's call to stay, who, not

choosing to be left alone in the dark chamber, at length followed her.

'What is the reason of this, Annette?' said Emily, when she overtook

her, 'what have you heard concerning that picture, which makes you so

unwilling to stay when I bid you?'

'I don't know what is the reason, ma'amselle, replied Annette, 'nor

any thing about the picture, only I have heard there is something very

dreadful belonging to it--and that it has been covered up in black EVER

SINCE--and that nobody has looked at it for a great many years--and it

somehow has to do with the owner of this castle before Signor Montoni

came to the possession of it--and'--'Well, Annette,' said Emily, smiling,

'I perceive it is as you say--that

you know nothing about the picture.'

'No, nothing, indeed, ma'amselle, for they made me promise never to

tell:--but'-'Well,' rejoined Emily, who observed that she was struggling between

her inclination to reveal a secret, and her apprehension for the

consequence, 'I will enquire no further'--'No, pray, ma'am, do not.' 'Lest you should tell all,' interrupted Emily. Annette blushed, and Emily smiled, and they passed on to the extremity

of this suite of apartments, and found themselves, after some further

perplexity, once more at the top of the marble stair-case, where Annette

left Emily, while she went to call one of the servants of the castle to

shew them to the chamber, for which they had been seeking.

While she was absent, Emily's thoughts returned to the picture; an

unwillingness to tamper with the integrity of a servant, had checked her

enquiries on this subject, as well as concerning some alarming hints,

which Annette had dropped respecting Montoni; though her curiosity

was entirely awakened, and she had perceived, that her questions might

easily be answered. She was now, however, inclined to go back to the

apartment and examine the picture; but the loneliness of the hour and

of the place, with the melancholy silence that reigned around her,

conspired with a certain degree of awe, excited by the mystery attending

this picture, to prevent her. She determined, however, when day-light

should have re-animated her spirits, to go thither and remove the veil.

As she leaned from the corridor, over the stair-case, and her eyes

wandered round, she again observed, with wonder, the vast strength of

the walls, now somewhat decayed, and the pillars of solid marble, that

rose from the hall, and supported the roof.