The Mysteries of Udolpho [196]
and she trembled,--but, whether with fear, or with indignation, it were difficult to decide.
'Spare your words,' said Montoni, seeing her about to speak, 'your countenance makes full confession of your crime.--You shall be instantly removed to the east turret.'
'This accusation,' said Madame Montoni, speaking with difficulty, 'is used only as an excuse for your cruelty; I disdain to reply to it. You do not believe me guilty.'
'Signor!' said Emily solemnly, 'this dreadful charge, I would answer with my life, is false. Nay, Signor,' she added, observing the severity of his countenance, 'this is no moment for restraint, on my part; I do not scruple to tell you, that you are deceived--most wickedly deceived, by the suggestion of some person, who aims at the ruin of my aunt:--it is impossible, that you could yourself have imagined a crime so hideous.'
Montoni, his lips trembling more than before, replied only, 'If you value your own safety,' addressing Emily, 'you will be silent. I shall know how to interpret your remonstrances, should you persevere in them.'
Emily raised her eyes calmly to heaven. 'Here is, indeed, then, nothing to hope!' said she.
'Peace!' cried Montoni, 'or you shall find there is something to fear.'
He turned to his wife, who had now recovered her spirits, and who vehemently and wildly remonstrated upon this mysterious suspicion: but Montoni's rage heightened with her indignation, and Emily, dreading the event of it, threw herself between them, and clasped his knees in silence, looking up in his face with an expression, that might have softened the heart of a fiend. Whether his was hardened by a conviction of Madame Montoni's guilt, or that a bare suspicion of it made him eager to exercise vengeance, he was totally and alike insensible to the distress of his wife, and to the pleading looks of Emily, whom he made no attempt to raise, but was vehemently menacing both, when he was called out of the room by some person at the door. As he shut the door, Emily heard him turn the lock and take out the key; so that Madame Montoni and herself were now prisoners; and she saw that his designs became more and more terrible. Her endeavours to explain his motives for this circumstance were almost as ineffectual as those to sooth the distress of her aunt, whose innocence she could not doubt; but she, at length, accounted for Montoni's readiness to suspect his wife by his own consciousness of cruelty towards her, and for the sudden violence of his present conduct against both, before even his suspicions could be completely formed, by his general eagerness to effect suddenly whatever he was led to desire and his carelessness of justice, or humanity, in accomplishing it.
Madame Montoni, after some time, again looked round, in search of a possibility of escape from the castle, and conversed with Emily on the subject, who was now willing to encounter any hazard, though she forbore to encourage a hope in her aunt, which she herself did not admit. How strongly the edifice was secured, and how vigilantly guarded, she knew too well; and trembled to commit their safety to the caprice of the servant, whose assistance they must solicit. Old Carlo was compassionate, but he seemed to be too much in his master's interest to be trusted by them; Annette could of herself do little, and Emily knew Ludovico only from her report. At present, however, these considerations were useless, Madame Montoni and her niece being shut up from all intercourse, even with the persons, whom there might be these reasons to reject.
In the hall, confusion and tumult still reigned. Emily, as she listened anxiously to the murmur, that sounded along the gallery, sometimes fancied she heard the clashing of swords, and, when she considered the nature of the provocation, given by Montoni, and his impetuosity, it appeared probable, that nothing less than arms would terminate the contention. Madame Montoni, having exhausted all her expressions of indignation, and Emily,
'Spare your words,' said Montoni, seeing her about to speak, 'your countenance makes full confession of your crime.--You shall be instantly removed to the east turret.'
'This accusation,' said Madame Montoni, speaking with difficulty, 'is used only as an excuse for your cruelty; I disdain to reply to it. You do not believe me guilty.'
'Signor!' said Emily solemnly, 'this dreadful charge, I would answer with my life, is false. Nay, Signor,' she added, observing the severity of his countenance, 'this is no moment for restraint, on my part; I do not scruple to tell you, that you are deceived--most wickedly deceived, by the suggestion of some person, who aims at the ruin of my aunt:--it is impossible, that you could yourself have imagined a crime so hideous.'
Montoni, his lips trembling more than before, replied only, 'If you value your own safety,' addressing Emily, 'you will be silent. I shall know how to interpret your remonstrances, should you persevere in them.'
Emily raised her eyes calmly to heaven. 'Here is, indeed, then, nothing to hope!' said she.
'Peace!' cried Montoni, 'or you shall find there is something to fear.'
He turned to his wife, who had now recovered her spirits, and who vehemently and wildly remonstrated upon this mysterious suspicion: but Montoni's rage heightened with her indignation, and Emily, dreading the event of it, threw herself between them, and clasped his knees in silence, looking up in his face with an expression, that might have softened the heart of a fiend. Whether his was hardened by a conviction of Madame Montoni's guilt, or that a bare suspicion of it made him eager to exercise vengeance, he was totally and alike insensible to the distress of his wife, and to the pleading looks of Emily, whom he made no attempt to raise, but was vehemently menacing both, when he was called out of the room by some person at the door. As he shut the door, Emily heard him turn the lock and take out the key; so that Madame Montoni and herself were now prisoners; and she saw that his designs became more and more terrible. Her endeavours to explain his motives for this circumstance were almost as ineffectual as those to sooth the distress of her aunt, whose innocence she could not doubt; but she, at length, accounted for Montoni's readiness to suspect his wife by his own consciousness of cruelty towards her, and for the sudden violence of his present conduct against both, before even his suspicions could be completely formed, by his general eagerness to effect suddenly whatever he was led to desire and his carelessness of justice, or humanity, in accomplishing it.
Madame Montoni, after some time, again looked round, in search of a possibility of escape from the castle, and conversed with Emily on the subject, who was now willing to encounter any hazard, though she forbore to encourage a hope in her aunt, which she herself did not admit. How strongly the edifice was secured, and how vigilantly guarded, she knew too well; and trembled to commit their safety to the caprice of the servant, whose assistance they must solicit. Old Carlo was compassionate, but he seemed to be too much in his master's interest to be trusted by them; Annette could of herself do little, and Emily knew Ludovico only from her report. At present, however, these considerations were useless, Madame Montoni and her niece being shut up from all intercourse, even with the persons, whom there might be these reasons to reject.
In the hall, confusion and tumult still reigned. Emily, as she listened anxiously to the murmur, that sounded along the gallery, sometimes fancied she heard the clashing of swords, and, when she considered the nature of the provocation, given by Montoni, and his impetuosity, it appeared probable, that nothing less than arms would terminate the contention. Madame Montoni, having exhausted all her expressions of indignation, and Emily,