:

But how does he look, Ludovico? interrupted Emily is he not melancholy and ill with his long confinement?-Why, as to melancholy, I saw no symptom of that, lady, while I was with him, for he seemed in the finest spirits I ever saw any body in, in all my life. His countenance was all joy, and if one may judge from that, he was very well; but I did not ask him. Did he send me no message? said Emily. O yes, Signora, and something besides, replied Ludovico, who searched his pockets. Surely I have not lost it! added he. The chevalier said he would have written, Madam, if he had had pen and ink, and was going to have sent a very long message, when the sentinel entered the room, but not before he had given me this. Ludovico then drew forth a miniature from his bosom, which Emily received with a trembling hand, and perceived to be a por trait of herself the very picture which her mother had lost so strangely in the fishing-house at La Vallée.

Tears of mingled joy and tenderness flowed to her eyes, while Ludovico proceededTell your lady, said the chevalier as he gave me the picture, that this has been my companion and only solace in all my misfortunes. Tell her that I have worn it next my heart, and that I send it her as the pledge of an affection which can never die; that I would not part with it, but to her, for the wealth of worlds; and that I now part with it, only in the hope of soon receiving it from her hands. Tell her- Just then, Signora, the sentinel came in, and the chevalier said no more: but he had before asked me to contrive an interview for him with you; and when I told him how little hope I had of prevailing with the guard to assist me, he said that was not perhaps of so much consequence as I imagined, and bade me contrive to bring back your answer, and he

would inform me of mere than he chose to do then. So this, I think, lady, is the whole of what passed.

How, Ludovico, shall I reward you for your zeal said Emily: but indeed I do not now possess the means. When can you see the chevalier again? That is uncertain, Signora, replied he: it depends upon who stands guard next; there are not more than one or two among them, from whom I would dare to ask admittance to the prison-chamber.

I need not bid you remember, Ludovico, resumed Emily, how very much interested I am in your seeing the chevalier soon; and when you do so, tell him that I have received the picture, and with the sentiments he wished. Tell him I have suffered much, and still suffer-She paused. But shall I tell him you will see him, lady? said Ludovico. Most certainly I will, replied Emily. But when, Signora, and where? That must depend upon circumstances, returned Emily: the place and the hour must be regulated by his opportunities.

As to the place, Mademoiselle, said Annette, there is no other place in the castle, besides this corridor, where we can see him in safety, you know; and as for the hour-it must be when all the signors are asleep, if that ever happens! You may mention these circumstances to the chevalier, Ludovico, said she, checking the flippancy of Annette; and leave them to his judgement and opportunity. Tell him my heart is unchanged. But, above all, let him see you again as soon as possible; and, Ludovico, I think it is needless to tell you I shall very anxiously look for you. Having then wished her good night, Ludovico descended the staircase, and Emily retired to rest, but not to sleep, for joy now rendered her as wakeful as she had ever been from grief. Montoni and his castle had all vanished from her mind, like the frightful vision of a necromancer,

and she wandered once more in fairy scenes of un. fading happiness:

..... as when, beneath the beam

Of summer moons, the distant woods among,
Or by some flood all silver'd with the gleam,
The soft embodied Fays through airy portals stream.

A week elapsed before Ludovico again visited the prison; for the sentinels during that period were men in whom he could not confide, and he feared to awaken curiosity by asking to see their prisoner. In this interval he communicated to Emily terrific reports of what was passing in the castle; of riots, quarrels, and of carousals more alarming than either; while, from some circumstances which he mentioned, she not only doubted whether Montoni meant ever to release her, but greatly feared that he had designs concerning her such as she had formerly dreaded. Her name was frequently mentioned in the conversations which Bertolini and Verezzi held together, and at those times they were frequently in contention. Montoni had lost large sums to Verezzi, so that there was a dreadful possibility of his designing her to be a substitute for the debt; but as she was ignorant that he had formerly encouraged the hopes of Bertolini also, concerning herself, after the latter had done him some signal service, she knew not how to account for these contentions between Bertolini and Verezzi. The cause of them, however, appeared to be of little consequence; for she thought she saw destruction approaching in many forms, and her entreaties to Ludovico to contrive an escape, and to see the prisoner again, were more urgent than

ever.

At length, he informed her that he had again visited the chevalier, who had directed him to confide

in the guard of the prison, from whom he had already received some instances of kindness, and who had promised to permit his going into the castle for half an hour on the ensuing night, when Montoni and his companions should be engaged at their carousals. This was kind, to be sure, added Ludovico: but Sebastian knows he runs no risk in letting the chevalier out, for if he can get beyond the bars and iron doors of the castle, he must be cunning indeed. But the chevalier desired me, Signora, to go to you immediately, and to beg you would allow him to visit you this night, if it was only for a moment, for that he could no longer live under the same roof without seeing you; the hour, he said, he could not mention, for it must depend on circumstances (just as you said, Signora); and the place he desired you would appoint, as knowing which was best for your own safety.

Emily was now so much agitated by the near prospect of meeting Valancourt, that it was some time before she could give any answer to Ludovico, or consider of the place of meeting: when she did, she saw none that promised so much security as the corridor near her own apartment, which she was checked from leaving, by the apprehension of meeting any of Montoni's guests on their way to their rooms; and she dismissed the scruples which delicacy opposed, now that a serious danger was to be avoided by encountering them. It was settled, therefore, that the chevalier should meet her in the corridor, at that hour of the night which Ludovico, who was to be upon the watch, should judge safest : and Emily, as may be imagined, passed this interval in a tumult of hope and joy, anxiety and impatience. Never since her residence in the castle had she watched with so much pleasure the sun set behind the mountains, and twilight shade and darkness veil

the scene, as on this evening. She counted the notes of the great clock, and listened to the steps of the sentinels as they changed the watch, only to rejoice that another hour was gone. O Valancourt! said she, after all I have suffered; after our long, long separation, when I thought I should never -never see you more-we are still to meet again! O! I have endured grief, and anxiety, and terror, and let me then not sink beneath this joy! These were moments, when it was impossible for her to feel emotions of regret or melancholy for any ordinary interests-even the reflection that she had resigned the estates which would have been a provision for herself and Valancourt for life, threw only a light and transient shade upon her spirits. The idea of Valancourt, and that she should see him so soon, alone occupied her heart.

At length the clock struck twelve; she opened the door to listen if any noise was in the castle, and heard only distant shouts of riot and laughter echoed feebly along the gallery. She guessed that the signor and his guests were at the banquet. They are now engaged for the night, said she; and Valancourt will soon be here.- Having softly closed the door, she paced the room with impatient steps, and often went to the casement to listen for the lute; but all was silent; and her agitation every moment increasing, she was at length unable to support herself, and sat down by the window. Annette, whom she detained, was in the mean time as loquacious as usual; but Emily heard scarcely any thing she said; and having at length risen to the casement, she distinguished the chords of the lute struck with an expressive hand, and then the voice she had formerly listened to accompanied it.