been directed to their apartment, while the other maintained the flight combat, which preceded the furrender of the whole garrison. Among the perfons, feized with Montoni, was Orfino, the affaffin, who had joined him on his first arrival at Udolpho, and whose concealment had been made known to the fenate by Count Morano, after the unfuccefsful attempt of the latter to carry off Emily. It was, indeed, partly for the purpose of capturing this man, by whom one of the senate had been murdered, that the expedition was undertaken, and its fuccefs was fo acceptable to them, that Morano was instantly released, notwithstanding the political suspicions, which Montoni, by his fecret accusation, had excited against him. The celerity and ease, with which this whole tranf action was completed, prevented it from attracting curiosity, or even from obtaining a place in any of the published records of that time; fo that Emily, who remained in Languedoc, was ignorant of the defeat and fignal humiliation of her late perfecutor. Her Her mind was now occupied with sufferings, which no effort of reafon had yet been able to controul. Count de Villefort, who fincerely attempted whatever benevolence could suggest for softening them, fometimes allowed her the folitude fhe wished for, fometimes led her into friendly parties, and constantly protected her, as much as poffible, from the fhrewd enquiries and critical conversation of the Countefs. He often invited her to make excurfions, with him and his daughter, during which he converfed entirely on questions, fuitable to her taste, without appearing to confult it, and thus endeavoured gradually to withdraw her from the fubject of her grief, and to awake other interests in her mind. Emily, to whom he appeared as the enlightened friend and protector of her youth, foon felt for him the tender affection of a daughter, and her heart expanded to her young friend Blanche, as to a fifter, whofe kindness and fimplicity compenfated for the want of more brilliant qualities. It was long before fhe could fufC 4 ficiently ficiently abstract her mind from Valancourt to listen to the ftory, promised by old Dorothée, concerning which her curiofity had once been fo deeply interefted; but Dorothée, at length, reminded her of it, and Emily defired, that fhe would come, that night, to her chamber. Still her thoughts were employed by confiderations, which weakened her curiosity, and Dorothée's tap at the door, foon after twelve, surprised her almost as much as if it had not been appointed. "I am come, at laft, lady," said fhe; "I wonder what it is makes my old limbs shake so, tonight. I thought, once or twice, 1 should have dropped, as I was a-coming." Emily feated her in a chair, and defired, that she would compofe her fpirits, before fhe entered upon the fubject, that had brought her thither. 66 Alas," faid Dorothée," it is thinking of that, I believe, which has difturbed me fo. In my way hither too, I paffed the chamber, where my dear lady died, and every thing was fo ftill and gloomy about about me, that I almost fancied I faw her, as the appeared upon her death bed." Emily now drew her chair near to Dorothée, who went on. years fince my lady bride to the chateau. "It is about twenty Marchionefs came a how she looked, when he came into the great hall, where we fervants were all affembled to welcome her, and how happy my lord the Marquis feemed. Ah! who would have thought then !-But, as I was saying, maʼamfelle, I thought the Marchioness, with all her sweet looks, did not look happy at heart, and fo I told my husband, and he faid it was all fancy; fo I faid no more, but I made my remarks, for all that. My lady Marchioness was then about your age, and, as I have often thought, very like you. Well! my lord the Marquis kept open houfe, for a long time, and gave such entertainments and there were fuch gay doings as have never been in the chateau fince. was younger, ma'amfelle, then, than I am now, and was as gay as the best of them. C 5 I them. I remember I danced with Philip, the butler, in a pink gown, with yellow ribbons, and a coif, not fuch as they wear now, but plaited high, with ribbons all about it. It was very becoming truly;-my lord, the Marquis, noticed me. Ah! he was a good-natured gentleman then-who would have thought that he!” "But the Marchionefs, Dorothée,” said Emily, "you was telling me of her." "O yes, my lady Marchionefs, I thought fhe did not feem happy at heart, and once, foon after the marriage, I caught her crying in her chamber; but, when the faw me, fhe dried her eyes, and pretended to fmile. I did not dare then to afk what was the matter; but, the next time I faw her crying, I did, and fhe feemed displeased;-so I said no more. I found out, fome time after, how it was. Her father, it feems, had commanded her to marry my lord, the Marquis, for his money, and there was another nobleman, or elfe a chevalier, that fhe liked better and that was very fond of her, and fhe fretted for |