The Mysteries of Udolpho

'The Valancourts, Counts Duvarney,' replied Mons. Bonnac.

The emotion of Mons. Du Pont, when he discovered the generous benefactor

of his friend to be the rival of his love, can only be imagined; but,

having overcome his first surprise, he dissipated the apprehensions of

Mons. Bonnac by acquainting him, that Valancourt was at liberty, and had

lately been in Languedoc; after which his affection for Emily prompted

him to make some enquiries, respecting the conduct of his rival, during

his stay at Paris, of which M. Bonnac appeared to be well informed. The

answers he received were such as convinced him, that Valancourt had been

much misrepresented, and, painful as was the sacrifice, he formed the

just design of relinquishing his pursuit of Emily to a lover, who, it

now appeared, was not unworthy of the regard, with which she honoured

him.

The conversation of Mons. Bonnac discovered, that Valancourt, some

time after his arrival at Paris, had been drawn into the snares, which

determined vice had spread for him, and that his hours had been chiefly

divided between the parties of the captivating Marchioness and those

gaming assemblies, to which the envy, or the avarice, of his brother

officers had spared no art to seduce him. In these parties he had lost

large sums, in efforts to recover small ones, and to such losses the

Count De Villefort and Mons. Henri had been frequent witnesses. His

resources were, at length, exhausted; and the Count, his brother,

exasperated by his conduct, refused to continue the supplies necessary

to his present mode of life, when Valancourt, in consequence of

accumulated debts, was thrown into confinement, where his brother

suffered him to remain, in the hope, that punishment might effect a

reform of conduct, which had not yet been confirmed by long habit.

In the solitude of his prison, Valancourt had leisure for reflection,

and cause for repentance; here, too, the image of Emily, which, amidst

the dissipation of the city had been obscured, but never obliterated

from his heart, revived with all the charms of innocence and beauty, to

reproach him for having sacrificed his happiness and debased his talents

by pursuits, which his nobler faculties would formerly have taught him

to consider were as tasteless as they were degrading. But, though his

passions had been seduced, his heart was not depraved, nor had habit

riveted the chains, that hung heavily on his conscience; and, as he

retained that energy of will, which was necessary to burst them, he, at

length, emancipated himself from the bondage of vice, but not till after

much effort and severe suffering.

Being released by his brother from the prison, where he had witnessed

the affecting meeting between Mons. Bonnac and his wife, with whom he

had been for some time acquainted, the first use of his liberty formed a

striking instance of his humanity and his rashness; for with nearly all

the money, just received from his brother, he went to a gaming-house,

and gave it as a last stake for the chance of restoring his friend to

freedom, and to his afflicted family. The event was fortunate, and,

while he had awaited the issue of this momentous stake, he made a solemn

vow never again to yield to the destructive and fascinating vice of

gaming.