When she was somewhat recovered, she related what
she had seen, and her conversation with the Abate. But madame was
lost in equal perplexity with herself, when she attempted to account
for the marquis's appearance. Why, after his late daring menace,
should he come secretly to visit the Abate, by whose connivance
alone he could have gained admission to the monastery? And what could
have influenced the Abate to such a conduct? These circumstances,
though equally inexplicable, united to confirm a fear of treachery and
surrender. To escape from the abbey was now inpracticable, for the
gates were constantly guarded; and even was it possible to pass them,
certain detection awaited Julia without from the marquis's people, who
were stationed in the woods. Thus encompassed with danger, she could
only await in the monastery the issue of her destiny.
While she was lamenting with madame her unhappy fate, she was summoned
once more to attend the Abate. At this moment her spirits entirely
forsook her; the crisis of her fate seemed arrived; for she did not
doubt that the Abate intended to surrender her to the marquis, with
whom she supposed he had negotiated the terms of accommodation. It was
some time before she could recover composure sufficient to obey the
summons; and when she did, every step that bore her towards the
Abate's room increased her dread. She paused a moment at the door,
'ere she had courage to open it; the idea of her father's immediate
resentment arose to her mind, and she was upon the point of retreating
to her chamber, when a sudden step within, near the door, destroyed
her hesitation, and she entered the closet. The marquis was not there,
and her spirits revived. The flush of triumph was diffused over the
features of the Abate, though a shade of unappeased resentment yet
remained visible.
'Daughter,' said he, 'the intelligence we have to
communicate may rejoice you. Your safety now depends solely on
yourself. I give your fate into your own hands, and its issue be upon
your head.' He paused, and she was suspended in wondering expectation
of the coming sentence. 'I here solemnly assure you of my protection,
but it is upon one condition only--that you renounce the world, and
dedicate your days to God.' Julia listened with a mixture of grief and
astonishment. 'Without this concession on your part, I possess not the
power, had I even the inclination, to protect you. If you assume the
veil, you are safe within the pale of the church from temporal
violence. If you neglect or refuse to do this, the marquis may apply
to a power from whom I have no appeal, and I shall be compelled at
last to resign you.