The Mysteries of Udolpho

The combatants were, at length, separated; and, after a very long and

violent dispute, reconciled. Montoni then left the room with Orsino,

whom he detained in private consultation for a considerable time.

Emily, meanwhile, stunned by the last words of Montoni, forgot, for the

moment, his declaration, that she should continue in the castle, while

she thought of her unfortunate aunt, who, he had said, was laid in

the east turret. In suffering the remains of his wife to lie thus long

unburied, there appeared a degree of brutality more shocking than she

had suspected even Montoni could practise.

After a long struggle, she determined to accept his permission to visit

the turret, and to take a last look of her ill-fated aunt: with which

design she returned to her chamber, and, while she waited for Annette

to accompany her, endeavoured to acquire fortitude sufficient to support

her through the approaching scene; for, though she trembled to encounter

it, she knew that to remember the performance of this last act of duty

would hereafter afford her consoling satisfaction.

Annette came, and Emily mentioned her purpose, from which the former

endeavoured to dissuade her, though without effect, and Annette was,

with much difficulty, prevailed upon to accompany her to the turret; but

no consideration could make her promise to enter the chamber of death.

They now left the corridor, and, having reached the foot of the

stair-case, which Emily had formerly ascended, Annette declared she

would go no further, and Emily proceeded alone. When she saw the track

of blood, which she had before observed, her spirits fainted, and, being

compelled to rest on the stairs, she almost determined to proceed no

further. The pause of a few moments restored her resolution, and she

went on.

As she drew near the landing-place, upon which the upper chamber opened,

she remembered, that the door was formerly fastened, and apprehended,

that it might still be so. In this expectation, however, she was

mistaken; for the door opened at once, into a dusky and silent chamber,

round which she fearfully looked, and then slowly advanced, when a

hollow voice spoke.

Emily, who was unable to speak, or to move from

the spot, uttered no sound of terror. The voice spoke again; and, then,

thinking that it resembled that of Madame Montoni, Emily's spirits were

instantly roused; she rushed towards a bed, that stood in a remote part

of the room, and drew aside the curtains. Within, appeared a pale and

emaciated face. She started back, then again advanced, shuddered as she

took up the skeleton hand, that lay stretched upon the quilt; then let

it drop, and then viewed the face with a long, unsettled gaze. It

was that of Madame Montoni, though so changed by illness, that the

resemblance of what it had been, could scarcely be traced in what it now

appeared. She was still alive, and, raising her heavy eyes, she turned

them on her niece. 'Where have you been so long?' said she, in the same tone, 'I

thought you had forsaken me.'