The Mysteries of Udolpho

When her recollection was more complete, she raised herself and went,

but with only a faint hope, to examine whether the door was unfastened.

It was so, and she then stepped timidly out into the gallery, but paused

there, uncertain which way she should proceed. Her first wish was to

gather some information, as to her aunt, and she, at length, turned her

steps to go to the lesser hall, where Annette and the other servants

usually waited.

Every where, as she passed, she heard, from a distance, the uproar of

contention, and the figures and faces, which she met, hurrying along the

passages, struck her mind with dismay. Emily might now have appeared,

like an angel of light, encompassed by fiends. At length, she reached

the lesser hall, which was silent and deserted, but, panting for breath,

she sat down to recover herself. The total stillness of this place was

as awful as the tumult, from which she had escaped: but she had now time

to recall her scattered thoughts, to remember her personal danger, and

to consider of some means of safety. She perceived, that it was useless

to seek Madame Montoni, through the wide extent and intricacies of the

castle, now, too, when every avenue seemed to be beset by ruffians; in

this hall she could not resolve to stay, for she knew not how soon it

might become their place of rendezvous; and, though she wished to go to

her chamber, she dreaded again to encounter them on the way.

Thus she sat, trembling and hesitating, when a distant murmur broke on

the silence, and grew louder and louder, till she distinguished voices

and steps approaching. She then rose to go, but the sounds came along

the only passage, by which she could depart, and she was compelled to

await in the hall, the arrival of the persons, whose steps she heard.

As these advanced, she distinguished groans, and then saw a man borne

slowly along by four others. Her spirits faltered at the sight, and she

leaned against the wall for support. The bearers, meanwhile, entered the

hall, and, being too busily occupied to detain, or even notice Emily,

she attempted to leave it, but her strength failed, and she again sat

down on the bench. A damp chillness came over her; her sight became

confused; she knew not what had passed, or where she was, yet the groans

of the wounded person still vibrated on her heart. In a few moments, the

tide of life seemed again to flow; she began to breathe more freely, and

her senses revived. She had not fainted, nor had ever totally lost her

consciousness, but had contrived to support herself on the bench; still

without courage to turn her eyes upon the unfortunate object, which

remained near her, and about whom the men were yet too much engaged to

attend to her.