Her mind was, at length, so much agitated by the consideration of her
state, and the belief, that she had seen Valancourt for the last time,
that she suddenly became very faint, and, looking round the chamber for
something, that might revive her, she observed the casements, and had
just strength to throw one open, near which she seated herself. The air
recalled her spirits, and the still moon-light, that fell upon the
elms of a long avenue, fronting the window, somewhat soothed them,
and determined her to try whether exercise and the open air would not
relieve the intense pain that bound her temples. In the chateau all was
still; and, passing down the great stair-case into the hall, from whence
a passage led immediately to the garden, she softly and unheard, as she
thought, unlocked the door, and entered the avenue. Emily passed on with
steps now hurried, and now faltering, as, deceived by the shadows
among the trees, she fancied she saw some person move in the distant
perspective, and feared, that it was a spy of Madame Montoni. Her
desire, however, to re-visit the pavilion, where she had passed so many
happy hours with Valancourt, and had admired with him the extensive
prospect over Languedoc and her native Gascony, overcame her
apprehension of being observed, and she moved on towards the terrace,
which, running along the upper garden, commanded the whole of the
lower one, and communicated with it by a flight of marble steps, that
terminated the avenue.
Having reached these steps, she paused a moment to look round, for her
distance from the chateau now increased the fear, which the stillness
and obscurity of the hour had awakened. But, perceiving nothing that
could justify it, she ascended to the terrace, where the moon-light
shewed the long broad walk, with the pavilion at its extremity, while
the rays silvered the foliage of the high trees and shrubs, that
bordered it on the right, and the tufted summits of those, that rose
to a level with the balustrade on the left, from the garden below. Her
distance from the chateau again alarming her, she paused to listen; the
night was so calm, that no sound could have escaped her, but she heard
only the plaintive sweetness of the nightingale, with the light shiver
of the leaves, and she pursued her way towards the pavilion, having
reached which, its obscurity did not prevent the emotion, that a fuller
view of its well-known scene would have excited. The lattices were
thrown back, and shewed beyond their embowered arch the moon-light
landscape, shadowy and soft; its groves, and plains extending gradually
and indistinctly to the eye, its distant mountains catching a stronger
gleam, and the nearer river reflecting the moon, and trembling to her
rays. Emily, as she approached the lattice, was sensible of the features of
this scene only as they served to bring Valancourt more immediately to
her fancy.