The Mysteries of Udolpho

At length, he informed her, that he had again visited the Chevalier, who

had directed him to confide in the guard of the prison, from whom he

had already received some instances of kindness, and who had promised to

permit his going into the castle for half an hour, on the ensuing night,

when Montoni and his companions should be engaged at their carousals.

'This was kind, to be sure,' added Ludovico: 'but Sebastian knows he

runs no risque in letting the Chevalier out, for, if he can get beyond

the bars and iron doors of the castle, he must be cunning indeed. But

the Chevalier desired me, Signora, to go to you immediately, and to

beg you would allow him to visit you, this night, if it was only for a

moment, for that he could no longer live under the same roof, without

seeing you; the hour, he said, he could not mention, for it must depend

on circumstances (just as you said, Signora); and the place he desired

you would appoint, as knowing which was best for your own safety.'

Emily was now so much agitated by the near prospect of meeting

Valancourt, that it was some time, before she could give any answer to

Ludovico, or consider of the place of meeting; when she did, she saw

none, that promised so much security, as the corridor, near her own

apartment, which she was checked from leaving, by the apprehension of

meeting any of Montoni's guests, on their way to their rooms; and she

dismissed the scruples, which delicacy opposed, now that a serious

danger was to be avoided by encountering them. It was settled,

therefore, that the Chevalier should meet her in the corridor, at that

hour of the night, which Ludovico, who was to be upon the watch, should

judge safest: and Emily, as may be imagined, passed this interval in

a tumult of hope and joy, anxiety and impatience. Never, since her

residence in the castle, had she watched, with so much pleasure, the

sun set behind the mountains, and twilight shade, and darkness veil the

scene, as on this evening.

She counted the notes of the great clock, and

listened to the steps of the sentinels, as they changed the watch,

only to rejoice, that another hour was gone. 'O, Valancourt!' said she,

'after all I have suffered; after our long, long separation, when I

thought I should never--never see you more--we are still to meet again!

O! I have endured grief, and anxiety, and terror, and let me, then, not

sink beneath this joy!' These were moments, when it was impossible

for her to feel emotions of regret, or melancholy, for any ordinary

interests;--even the reflection, that she had resigned the estates,

which would have been a provision for herself and Valancourt for life,

threw only a light and transient shade upon her spirits. The idea of

Valancourt, and that she should see him so soon, alone occupied her

heart.