Julia attended to the narrative of her mother in silent astonishment,
and gave all the sympathy which sorrow could demand. 'Surely,' cried
she, 'the providence on whom you have so firmly relied, and whose
inflictions you have supported with a fortitude so noble, has
conducted me through a labyrinth of misfortunes to this spot, for the
purpose of delivering you! Oh! let us hasten to fly this horrid
abode--let us seek to escape through the cavern by which I entered.' S
he paused in earnest expectation awaiting a reply. 'Whither can I
fly?' said the marchioness, deeply sighing. This question, spoken
with the emphasis of despair, affected Julia to tears, and she was for
a while silent. 'The marquis,' resumed Julia, 'would not know where to seek you, or if
he found you beyond his own domains, would fear to claim you. A
convent may afford for the present a safe asylum; and whatever shall
happen, surely no fate you may hereafter encounter can be more
dreadful than the one you now experience.'
The marchioness assented to the truth of this, yet her broken spirits,
the effect of long sorrow and confinement, made her hesitate how to
act; and there was a kind of placid despair in her look, which too
faithfully depicted her feelings. It was obvious to Julia that the
cavern she had passed wound beneath the range of mountains on whose
opposite side stood the castle of Mazzini. The hills thus rising
formed a screen which must entirely conceal their emergence from the
mouth of the cave, and their flight, from those in the castle. She
represented these circumstances to her mother, and urged them so
forcibly that the lethargy of despair yielded to hope, and the
marchioness committed herself to the conduct of her daughter.
'Oh! let me lead you to light and life!' cried Julia with warm
enthusiasm. 'Surely heaven can bless me with no greater good than by
making me the deliverer of my mother.' They both knelt down; and the
marchioness, with that affecting eloquence which true piety inspires,
and with that confidence which had supported her through so many
miseries, committed herself to the protection of God, and implored his
favor on their attempt. They arose, but as they conversed farther on their plan, Julia
recollected that she was destitute of money--the banditti having
robbed her of all! The sudden shock produced by this remembrance
almost subdued her spirits; never till this moment had she understood
the value of money. But she commanded her feelings, and resolved to
conceal this circumstance from the marchioness, preferring the chance
of any evil they might encounter from without, to the certain misery
of this terrible imprisonment.