The Mysteries of Udolpho

Cesario proposed to go out, and enquire for a cottage, that might

receive his master, before he attempted to remove him: but Morano was

impatient to be gone; the anguish of his mind seemed to be even greater

than that of his wound, and he rejected, with disdain, the offer of

Cavigni to entreat Montoni, that he might be suffered to pass the night

in the castle. Cesario was now going to call up the carriage to the

great gate, but the Count forbade him. 'I cannot bear the motion of a

carriage,' said he: 'call some others of my people, that they may assist

in bearing me in their arms.'

At length, however, Morano submitted to reason, and consented, that

Cesario should first prepare some cottage to receive him. Emily,

now that he had recovered his senses, was about to withdraw from the

corridor, when a message from Montoni commanded her to do so, and also

that the Count, if he was not already gone, should quit the castle

immediately. Indignation flashed from Morano's eyes, and flushed his

cheeks. 'Tell Montoni,' said he, 'that I shall go when it suits my own

convenience; that I quit the castle, he dares to call his, as I would

the nest of a serpent, and that this is not the last he shall hear from

me. Tell him, I will not leave ANOTHER murder on his conscience, if I

can help it.' 'Count Morano! do you know what you say?' said Cavigni.

'Yes, Signor, I know well what I say, and he will understand well what I

mean. His conscience will assist his understanding, on this occasion.'

'Count Morano,' said Verezzi, who had hitherto silently observed him,

'dare again to insult my friend, and I will plunge this sword in your

body.' 'It would be an action worthy the friend of a villain!' said Morano, as

the strong impulse of his indignation enabled him to raise himself from

the arms of his servants; but the energy was momentary, and he sunk

back, exhausted by the effort. Montoni's people, meanwhile, held

Verezzi, who seemed inclined, even in this instant, to execute his

threat; and Cavigni, who was not so depraved as to abet the cowardly

malignity of Verezzi, endeavoured to withdraw him from the corridor;

and Emily, whom a compassionate interest had thus long detained, was

now quitting it in new terror, when the supplicating voice of Morano

arrested her, and, by a feeble gesture, he beckoned her to draw

nearer. She advanced with timid steps, but the fainting languor of his

countenance again awakened her pity, and overcame her terror. 'I am going from hence for ever,' said he: 'perhaps, I shall never see

you again. I would carry with me your forgiveness, Emily; nay more--I

would also carry your good wishes.'