'Perhaps, then, I am a little superstitious, ma'amselle; and, if you
knew what I do, you might be so too. Strange things have happened
there. Monsieur, your good father, appeared to have known the late
Marchioness.' 'Pray inform me what did happen?' said Emily, with much
emotion. 'Alas! ma'amselle,' answered La Voisin, 'enquire no further; it is not
for me to lay open the domestic secrets of my lord.'--Emily, surprised
by the old man's words, and his manner of delivering them, forbore to
repeat her question; a nearer interest, the remembrance of St. Aubert,
occupied her thoughts, and she was led to recollect the music she heard
on the preceding night, which she mentioned to La Voisin. 'You was not
alone, ma'amselle, in this,' he replied, 'I heard it too; but I have so
often heard it, at the same hour, that I was scarcely surprised.'
'You doubtless believe this music to have some connection with the
chateau,' said Emily suddenly, 'and are, therefore, superstitious.' 'It
may be so, ma'amselle, but there are other circumstances, belonging to
that chateau, which I remember, and sadly too.' A heavy sigh followed:
but Emily's delicacy restrained the curiosity these words revived, and
she enquired no further.
On reaching the cottage, all the violence of her grief returned; it
seemed as if she had escaped its heavy pressure only while she was
removed from the object of it. She passed immediately to the chamber,
where the remains of her father were laid, and yielded to all the
anguish of hopeless grief. La Voisin, at length, persuaded her to
leave the room, and she returned to her own, where, exhausted by
the sufferings of the day, she soon fell into deep sleep, and awoke
considerably refreshed.
When the dreadful hour arrived, in which the remains of St. Aubert were
to be taken from her for ever, she went alone to the chamber to look
upon his countenance yet once again, and La Voisin, who had waited
patiently below stairs, till her despair should subside, with the
respect due to grief, forbore to interrupt the indulgence of it, till
surprise, at the length of her stay, and then apprehension overcame his
delicacy, and he went to lead her from the chamber. Having tapped gently
at the door, without receiving an answer, he listened attentively, but
all was still; no sigh, no sob of anguish was heard. Yet more alarmed by
this silence, he opened the door, and found Emily lying senseless across
the foot of the bed, near which stood the coffin. His calls procured
assistance, and she was carried to her room, where proper applications,
at length, restored her.