The Mysteries of Udolpho - Page 141/578

But, as his imagination magnified to her the possible evils she was

going to meet, the mists of her own fancy began to dissipate, and

allowed her to distinguish the exaggerated images, which imposed on his

reason. She considered, that there was no proof of Montoni being the

person, whom the stranger had meant; that, even if he was so, the

Italian had noticed his character and broken fortunes merely from

report; and that, though the countenance of Montoni seemed to give

probability to a part of the rumour, it was not by such circumstances

that an implicit belief of it could be justified. These considerations

would probably not have arisen so distinctly to her mind, at this

time, had not the terrors of Valancourt presented to her such obvious

exaggerations of her danger, as incited her to distrust the fallacies of

passion. But, while she endeavoured in the gentlest manner to convince

him of his error, she plunged him into a new one. His voice and

countenance changed to an expression of dark despair. 'Emily!' said

he, 'this, this moment is the bitterest that is yet come to me. You

do not--cannot love me!--It would be impossible for you to reason thus

coolly, thus deliberately, if you did. I, I am torn with anguish at

the prospect of our separation, and of the evils that may await you in

consequence of it; I would encounter any hazards to prevent it--to save

you. No! Emily, no!--you cannot love me.'

'We have now little time to waste in exclamation, or assertion,' said

Emily, endeavouring to conceal her emotion: 'if you are yet to learn how

dear you are, and ever must be, to my heart, no assurances of mine can

give you conviction.' The last words faltered on her lips, and her tears flowed fast. These

words and tears brought, once more, and with instantaneous force,

conviction of her love to Valancourt. He could only exclaim, 'Emily!

Emily!' and weep over the hand he pressed to his lips; but she, after

some moments, again roused herself from the indulgence of sorrow, and

said, 'I must leave you; it is late, and my absence from the chateau may

be discovered. Think of me--love me--when I am far away; the belief of

this will be my comfort!' 'Think of you!--love you!' exclaimed Valancourt. 'Try to moderate these transports,' said Emily, 'for my sake, try.' 'For your sake!' 'Yes, for my sake,' replied Emily, in a tremulous voice, 'I cannot leave

you thus!' 'Then do not leave me!' said Valancourt, with quickness. 'Why should we

part, or part for longer than till to-morrow?'