The Mysteries of Udolpho

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!'