The Mysteries of Udolpho - Page 29/578

The stranger said, that what information he could give was entirely at

his service; and then mentioned a road rather more to the east, which

led to a town, whence it would be easy to proceed into Rousillon.

They now arrived at the village, and commenced their search for a

cottage, that would afford a night's lodging. In several, which they

entered, ignorance, poverty, and mirth seemed equally to prevail; and

the owners eyed St. Aubert with a mixture of curiosity and timidity.

Nothing like a bed could be found, and he had ceased to enquire for

one, when Emily joined him, who observed the languor of her father's

countenance, and lamented, that he had taken a road so ill provided

with the comforts necessary for an invalid. Other cottages, which they

examined, seemed somewhat less savage than the former, consisting of

two rooms, if such they could be called; the first of these occupied by

mules and pigs, the second by the family, which generally consisted of

six or eight children, with their parents, who slept on beds of skins

and dried beech leaves, spread upon a mud floor. Here, light was

admitted, and smoke discharged, through an aperture in the roof; and

here the scent of spirits (for the travelling smugglers, who haunted the

Pyrenees, had made this rude people familiar with the use of liquors)

was generally perceptible enough. Emily turned from such scenes, and

looked at her father with anxious tenderness, which the young stranger

seemed to observe; for, drawing St. Aubert aside, he made him an offer

of his own bed.

'It is a decent one,' said he, 'when compared with

what we have just seen, yet such as in other circumstances I should be

ashamed to offer you.' St. Aubert acknowledged how much he felt himself

obliged by this kindness, but refused to accept it, till the young

stranger would take no denial. 'Do not give me the pain of knowing,

sir,' said he, 'that an invalid, like you, lies on hard skins, while

I sleep in a bed. Besides, sir, your refusal wounds my pride; I must

believe you think my offer unworthy your acceptance. Let me shew you the

way. I have no doubt my landlady can accommodate this young lady also.'

St. Aubert at length consented, that, if this could be done, he would

accept his kindness, though he felt rather surprised, that the stranger

had proved himself so deficient in gallantry, as to administer to the

repose of an infirm man, rather than to that of a very lovely young

woman, for he had not once offered the room for Emily. But she thought

not of herself, and the animated smile she gave him, told how much she

felt herself obliged for the preference of her father.