This fear increased, as the means of certainty
concerning it approached; and, when she came within view of Theresa's
cottage, she was so much disordered, and her resolution failed her so
entirely, that, unable to proceed, she rested on a bank, beside her
path; where, as she sat, the wind that groaned sullenly among the lofty
branches above, seemed to her melancholy imagination to bear the sounds
of distant lamentation, and, in the pauses of the gust, she still
fancied she heard the feeble and far-off notes of distress. Attention
convinced her, that this was no more than fancy; but the increasing
gloom, which seemed the sudden close of day, soon warned her to depart,
and, with faltering steps, she again moved toward the cottage. Through
the casement appeared the cheerful blaze of a wood fire, and Theresa,
who had observed Emily approaching, was already at the door to receive
her. 'It is a cold evening, madam,' said she, 'storms are coming on, and I
thought you would like a fire. Do take this chair by the hearth.'
Emily, thanking her for this consideration, sat down, and then, looking
in her face, on which the wood fire threw a gleam, she was struck with
its expression, and, unable to speak, sunk back in her chair with a
countenance so full of woe, that Theresa instantly comprehended the
occasion of it, but she remained silent. 'Ah!' said Emily, at length,
'it is unnecessary for me to ask the result of your enquiry, your
silence, and that look, sufficiently explain it;--he is dead!'
'Alas! my dear young lady,' replied Theresa, while tears filled her
eyes, 'this world is made up of trouble! the rich have their share
as well as the poor! But we must all endeavour to bear what Heaven
pleases.' 'He is dead, then!'--interrupted Emily--'Valancourt is dead!'
'A-well-a-day! I fear he is,' replied Theresa.
'You fear!' said Emily, 'do you only fear?'
'Alas! yes, madam, I fear he is! neither the steward, or any of the
Epourville family, have heard of him since he left Languedoc, and
the Count is in great affliction about him, for he says he was always
punctual in writing, but that now he has not received a line from him,
since he left Languedoc; he appointed to be at home, three weeks ago,
but he has neither come, or written, and they fear some accident has
befallen him.
Alas! that ever I should live to cry for his death! I am
old, and might have died without being missed, but he'--Emily was faint,
and asked for some water, and Theresa, alarmed by the voice, in which
she spoke, hastened to her assistance, and, while she held the water to
Emily's lips, continued, 'My dear young mistress, do not take it so to
heart; the Chevalier may be alive and well, for all this; let us hope
the best!' 'O no! I cannot hope,' said Emily, 'I am acquainted with circumstances,
that will not suffer me to hope. I am somewhat better now, and can hear
what you have to say. Tell me, I entreat, the particulars of what you
know.' 'Stay, till you are a little better, mademoiselle, you look sadly!'