They had to cross two courts, towards the east wing of the castle,

which, adjoining the chapel, was, like it, in ruins: but the silence and

gloom of these courts had now little power over Emily's mind, occupied

as it was, with more mournful ideas; and she scarcely heard the low

and dismal hooting of the night-birds, that roosted among the ivyed

battlements of the ruin, or perceived the still flittings of the bat,

which frequently crossed her way. But, when, having entered the chapel,

and passed between the mouldering pillars of the aisles, the bearers

stopped at a flight of steps, that led down to a low arched door, and,

their comrade having descended to unlock it, she saw imperfectly the

gloomy abyss beyond;--saw the corpse of her aunt carried down these

steps, and the ruffian-like figure, that stood with a torch at the

bottom to receive it--all her fortitude was lost in emotions of

inexpressible grief and terror. She turned to lean upon Annette, who was

cold and trembling like herself, and she lingered so long on the summit

of the flight, that the gleam of the torch began to die away on the

pillars of the chapel, and the men were almost beyond her view. Then,

the gloom around her awakening other fears, and a sense of what she

considered to be her duty overcoming her reluctance, she descended to

the vaults, following the echo of footsteps and the faint ray, that

pierced the darkness, till the harsh grating of a distant door, that was

opened to receive the corpse, again appalled her.

After the pause of a moment, she went on, and, as she entered the

vaults, saw between the arches, at some distance, the men lay down the

body near the edge of an open grave, where stood another of Montoni's

men and a priest, whom she did not observe, till he began the burial

service; then, lifting her eyes from the ground, she saw the venerable

figure of the friar, and heard him in a low voice, equally solemn and

affecting, perform the service for the dead. At the moment, in which

they let down the body into the earth, the scene was such as only the

dark pencil of a Domenichino, perhaps, could have done justice to. The

fierce features and wild dress of the condottieri, bending with their

torches over the grave, into which the corpse was descending, were

contrasted by the venerable figure of the monk, wrapt in long black

garments, his cowl thrown back from his pale face, on which the light

gleaming strongly shewed the lines of affliction softened by piety, and

the few grey locks, which time had spared on his temples: while,

beside him, stood the softer form of Emily, who leaned for support upon

Annette; her face half averted, and shaded by a thin veil, that fell

over her figure; and her mild and beautiful countenance fixed in

grief so solemn as admitted not of tears, while she thus saw committed

untimely to the earth her last relative and friend. The gleams, thrown

between the arches of the vaults, where, here and there, the broken

ground marked the spots in which other bodies had been recently

interred, and the general obscurity beyond were circumstances, that

alone would have led on the imagination of a spectator to scenes

more horrible, than even that, which was pictured at the grave of the

misguided and unfortunate Madame Montoni.




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