'Is it for mine, or for Montoni's safety, that you are thus alarmed?'
said Morano, coldly, and turning towards her with a look of acrimony.'For both,' replied Emily, in a trembling voice. 'Unjust revenge!' cried the Count, resuming the abrupt tones of passion.
'Who, that looks upon that face, can imagine a punishment adequate to
the injury he would have done me? Yes, I will leave the castle; but it
shall not be alone. I have trifled too long. Since my prayers and my
sufferings cannot prevail, force shall. I have people in waiting, who
shall convey you to my carriage. Your voice will bring no succour; it
cannot be heard from this remote part of the castle; submit, therefore,
in silence, to go with me.'
This was an unnecessary injunction, at present; for Emily was too
certain, that her call would avail her nothing; and terror had so
entirely disordered her thoughts, that she knew not how to plead to
Morano, but sat, mute and trembling, in her chair, till he advanced
to lift her from it, when she suddenly raised herself, and, with a
repulsive gesture, and a countenance of forced serenity, said, 'Count
Morano! I am now in your power; but you will observe, that this is not
the conduct which can win the esteem you appear so solicitous to obtain,
and that you are preparing for yourself a load of remorse, in the
miseries of a friendless orphan, which can never leave you. Do you
believe your heart to be, indeed, so hardened, that you can look without
emotion on the suffering, to which you would condemn me?'--
Emily was interrupted by the growling of the dog, who now came again
from the bed, and Morano looked towards the door of the stair-case,
where no person appearing, he called aloud, 'Cesario!' 'Emily,' said the Count, 'why will you reduce me to adopt this conduct?
How much more willingly would I persuade, than compel you to become my
wife! but, by Heaven! I will not leave you to be sold by Montoni. Yet a
thought glances across my mind, that brings madness with it. I know not
how to name it. It is preposterous--it cannot be.--Yet you tremble--you
grow pale! It is! it is so;--you--you--love Montoni!' cried Morano,
grasping Emily's wrist, and stamping his foot on the floor.
An involuntary air of surprise appeared on her countenance. 'If you have
indeed believed so,' said she, 'believe so still.' 'That look, those words confirm it,' exclaimed Morano, furiously. 'No,
no, no, Montoni had a richer prize in view, than gold. But he shall not
live to triumph over me!--This very instant---'