The Mysteries of Udolpho - Page 144/578

Where'er I roam, whatever realms I see,

My heart untravell'd still shall turn to thee.

GOLDSMITH

The carriages were at the gates at an early hour; the bustle of the

domestics, passing to and fro in the galleries, awakened Emily from

harassing slumbers: her unquiet mind had, during the night, presented

her with terrific images and obscure circumstances, concerning her

affection and her future life. She now endeavoured to chase away the

impressions they had left on her fancy; but from imaginary evils she

awoke to the consciousness of real ones. Recollecting that she had

parted with Valancourt, perhaps for ever, her heart sickened as memory

revived.

But she tried to dismiss the dismal forebodings that crowded on

her mind, and to restrain the sorrow which she could not subdue;

efforts which diffused over the settled melancholy of her countenance

an expression of tempered resignation, as a thin veil, thrown over

the features of beauty, renders them more interesting by a partial

concealment.

Madame Montoni observed nothing in this countenance

except its usual paleness, which attracted her censure. She told her

niece, that she had been indulging in fanciful sorrows, and begged she

would have more regard for decorum, than to let the world see that she

could not renounce an improper attachment; at which Emily's pale cheek

became flushed with crimson, but it was the blush of pride, and she made

no answer. Soon after, Montoni entered the breakfast room, spoke little,

and seemed impatient to be gone.

The windows of this room opened upon the garden. As Emily passed them,

she saw the spot where she had parted with Valancourt on the preceding

night: the remembrance pressed heavily on her heart, and she turned

hastily away from the object that had awakened it.

The baggage being at length adjusted, the travellers entered their

carriages, and Emily would have left the chateau without one sigh of

regret, had it not been situated in the neighbourhood of Valancourt's

residence. From a little eminence she looked back upon Tholouse, and the far-seen

plains of Gascony, beyond which the broken summits of the Pyrenees

appeared on the distant horizon, lighted up by a morning sun. 'Dear

pleasant mountains!' said she to herself, 'how long may it be ere I see

ye again, and how much may happen to make me miserable in the interval!

Oh, could I now be certain, that I should ever return to ye, and find

that Valancourt still lived for me, I should go in peace! He will still

gaze on ye, gaze when I am far away!'

The trees, that impended over the high banks of the road and formed a

line of perspective with the distant country, now threatened to exclude

the view of them; but the blueish mountains still appeared beyond the

dark foliage, and Emily continued to lean from the coach window, till at

length the closing branches shut them from her sight.