Julia remained for the rest of the day shut up in her closet, where
the tender efforts of Madame and Emilia were exerted to soften her
distress. Towards the close of evening Ferdinand entered. Hippolitus,
shocked at her absence, had requested him to visit her, to alleviate
her affliction, and, if possible, to discover its cause. Ferdinand,
who tenderly loved his sister, was alarmed by the words of Hippolitus,
and immediately sought her. Her eyes were swelled with weeping, and
her countenance was but too expressive of the state of her mind.
Ferdinand's distress, when told of his father's conduct, was scarcely
less than her own. He had pleased himself with the hope of uniting the
sister of his heart with the friend whom he loved. An act of cruel
authority now dissolved the fairy dream of happiness which his fancy
had formed, and destroyed the peace of those most dear to him. He sat
for a long time silent and dejected; at length, starting from his
melancholy reverie, he bad Julia good-night, and returned to
Hippolitus, who was waiting for him with anxious impatience in the
north hall. Ferdinand dreaded the effect of that despair, which the intelligence
he had to communicate would produce in the mind of Hippolitus. He
revolved some means of softening the dreadful truth; but Hippolitus,
quick to apprehend the evil which love taught him to fear, seized at
once upon the reality. 'Tell me all,' said he, in a tone of assumed
firmness. 'I am prepared for the worst.' Ferdinand related the decree
of the marquis, and Hippolitus soon sunk into an excess of grief which
defied, as much as it required, the powers of alleviation.
Julia, at length, retired to her chamber, but the sorrow which
occupied her mind withheld the blessings of sleep. Distracted and
restless she arose, and gently opened the window of her apartment. The
night was still, and not a breath disturbed the surface of the waters.
The moon shed a mild radiance over the waves, which in gentle
undulations flowed upon the sands. The scene insensibly tranquilized
her spirits. A tender and pleasing melancholy diffused itself over her
mind; and as she mused, she heard the dashing of distant oars.
Presently she perceived upon the light surface of the sea a small
boat. The sound of the oars ceased, and a solemn strain of harmony
(such as fancy wafts from the abodes of the blessed) stole upon the
silence of night. A chorus of voices now swelled upon the air, and
died away at a distance. In the strain Julia recollected the midnight
hymn to the virgin, and holy enthusiasm filled her heart. The chorus
was repeated, accompanied by a solemn striking of oars. A sigh of
exstacy stole from her bosom. Silence returned. The divine melody she
had heard calmed the tumult of her mind, and she sunk in sweet repose.