The Mysteries of Udolpho

'Thank you, Carlo,' said Emily, 'this is very good of you Did the Signor

remind you of me?' 'No, Signora,' replied Carlo, 'his excellenza has business enough on his

hands.' Emily then renewed her enquiries, concerning Madame Montoni, but

Carlo had been employed at the other end of the castle, during the time,

that she was removed, and he had heard nothing since, concerning her.

While he spoke, Emily looked steadily at him, for she scarcely knew

whether he was really ignorant, or concealed his knowledge of the truth

from a fear of offending his master. To several questions, concerning

the contentions of yesterday, he gave very limited answers; but told,

that the disputes were now amicably settled, and that the Signor

believed himself to have been mistaken in his suspicions of his guests.

'The fighting was about that, Signora,' said Carlo; 'but I trust I shall

never see such another day in this castle, though strange things are

about to be done.' On her enquiring his meaning, 'Ah, Signora!' added he, 'it is not for me

to betray secrets, or tell all I think, but time will tell.'

She then desired him to release Annette, and, having described the

chamber in which the poor girl was confined, he promised to obey her

immediately, and was departing, when she remembered to ask who were the

persons just arrived. Her late conjecture was right; it was Verezzi,

with his party. Her spirits were somewhat soothed by this short conversation with Carlo;

for, in her present circumstances, it afforded some comfort to hear the

accents of compassion, and to meet the look of sympathy.

An hour passed before Annette appeared, who then came weeping and

sobbing. 'O Ludovico--Ludovico!' cried she. 'My poor Annette!' said Emily, and made her sit down. 'Who could have foreseen this, ma'amselle? O miserable, wretched,

day--that ever I should live to see it!' and she continued to moan and

lament, till Emily thought it necessary to check her excess of grief.

'We are continually losing dear friends by death,' said she, with

a sigh, that came from her heart. 'We must submit to the will of

Heaven--our tears, alas! cannot recall the dead!' Annette took the handkerchief from her face. 'You will meet Ludovico in a better world, I hope,' added Emily. 'Yes--yes,--ma'amselle,' sobbed Annette, 'but I hope I shall meet him

again in this--though he is so wounded!'

'Wounded!' exclaimed Emily, 'does he live?' 'Yes, ma'am, but--but he has a terrible wound, and could not come to

let me out. They thought him dead, at first, and he has not been rightly

himself, till within this hour.' 'Well, Annette, I rejoice to hear he lives.' 'Lives! Holy Saints! why he will not die, surely!' Emily said she hoped not, but this expression of hope Annette thought

implied fear, and her own increased in proportion, as Emily endeavoured

to encourage her. To enquiries, concerning Madame Montoni, she could

give no satisfactory answers. 'I quite forgot to ask among the servants, ma'amselle,' said she, 'for I

could think of nobody but poor Ludovico.'