During her stay at this pleasant villa, Emily was thus rendered
miserable by the assiduities of Morano, together with the cruelly
exerted authority of M. Quesnel and Montoni, who, with her aunt, seemed
now more resolutely determined upon this marriage than they had even
appeared to be at Venice. M. Quesnel, finding, that both argument and
menace were ineffectual in enforcing an immediate conclusion to it, at
length relinquished his endeavours, and trusted to the power of Montoni
and to the course of events at Venice. Emily, indeed, looked to Venice
with hope, for there she would be relieved in some measure from the
persecution of Morano, who would no longer be an inhabitant of the same
house with herself, and from that of Montoni, whose engagements would
not permit him to be continually at home. But amidst the pressure of her
own misfortunes, she did not forget those of poor Theresa, for whom she
pleaded with courageous tenderness to Quesnel, who promised, in slight
and general terms, that she should not be forgotten.
Montoni, in a long conversation with M. Quesnel, arranged the plan to
be pursued respecting Emily, and M. Quesnel proposed to be at Venice, as
soon as he should be informed, that the nuptials were concluded.
It was new to Emily to part with any person, with whom she was
connected, without feeling of regret; the moment, however, in which she
took leave of M. and Madame Quesnel, was, perhaps, the only satisfactory
one she had known in their presence.
Morano returned in Montoni's barge, and Emily, as she watched her
gradual approach to that magic city, saw at her side the only person,
who occasioned her to view it with less than perfect delight. They
arrived there about midnight, when Emily was released from the presence
of the Count, who, with Montoni, went to a Casino, and she was suffered
to retire to her own apartment.
On the following day, Montoni, in a short conversation, which he held
with Emily, informed her, that he would no longer be TRIFLED with, and
that, since her marriage with the Count would be so highly advantageous
to her, that folly only could object to it, and folly of such extent
as was incapable of conviction, it should be celebrated without further
delay, and, if that was necessary, without her consent.
Emily, who had hitherto tried remonstrance, had now recourse to
supplication, for distress prevented her from foreseeing, that, with a
man of Montoni's disposition, supplication would be equally useless. She
afterwards enquired by what right he exerted this unlimited authority
over her? a question, which her better judgment would have with-held
her, in a calmer moment, from making, since it could avail her nothing,
and would afford Montoni another opportunity of triumphing over her
defenceless condition.