'But the boy lived, monsieur, in spite of Father Denis.' 'Father Denis!' said St. Aubert, who had listened to 'narrative old age'
with patient attention, 'are we near a convent, then?'
'Yes, sir; the convent of St. Clair stands at no great distance, on the
sea shore yonder.' 'Ah!' said St. Aubert, as if struck with some sudden remembrance, 'the
convent of St. Clair!' Emily observed the clouds of grief, mingled with
a faint expression of horror, gathering on his brow; his countenance
became fixed, and, touched as it now was by the silver whiteness of
the moon-light, he resembled one of those marble statues of a monument,
which seem to bend, in hopeless sorrow, over the ashes of the dead,
shewn by the blunted light
That the dim moon through painted casements lends.*
* The Emigrants. 'But, my dear sir,' said Emily, anxious to dissipate his thoughts, 'you
forget that repose is necessary to you. If our kind host will give me
leave, I will prepare your bed, for I know how you like it to be made.'
St. Aubert, recollecting himself, and smiling affectionately, desired
she would not add to her fatigue by that attention; and La Voisin, whose
consideration for his guest had been suspended by the interests
which his own narrative had recalled, now started from his seat, and,
apologizing for not having called Agnes from the green, hurried out of
the room.
In a few moments he returned with his daughter, a young woman of
pleasing countenance, and Emily learned from her, what she had not
before suspected, that, for their accommodation, it was necessary
part of La Voisin's family should leave their beds; she lamented this
circumstance, but Agnes, by her reply, fully proved that she inherited,
at least, a share of her father's courteous hospitality. It was settled,
that some of her children and Michael should sleep in the neighbouring
cottage. 'If I am better, to-morrow, my dear,' said St. Aubert when Emily
returned to him, 'I mean to set out at an early hour, that we may rest,
during the heat of the day, and will travel towards home. In the present
state of my health and spirits I cannot look on a longer journey with
pleasure, and I am also very anxious to reach La Vallee.' Emily, though
she also desired to return, was grieved at her father's sudden wish to
do so, which she thought indicated a greater degree of indisposition
than he would acknowledge. St. Aubert now retired to rest, and Emily to
her little chamber, but not to immediate repose. Her thoughts returned
to the late conversation, concerning the state of departed spirits; a
subject, at this time, particularly affecting to her, when she had every
reason to believe that her dear father would ere long be numbered with
them.