The Mysteries of Udolpho - Page 386/578

I had heard of the superstition of many of these men, and I uttered

a strange noise, with a hope, that my pursuer would mistake it for

something supernatural, and desist from pursuit. Luckily for myself I

succeeded; the man, it seems, was subject to fits, and the terror he

suffered threw him into one, by which accident I secured my retreat. A

sense of the danger I had escaped, and the increased watchfulness, which

my appearance had occasioned among the sentinels, deterred me ever

after from walking on the terrace; but, in the stillness of night,

I frequently beguiled myself with an old lute, procured for me by a

soldier, which I sometimes accompanied with my voice, and sometimes, I

will acknowledge, with a hope of making myself heard by you; but it was

only a few evenings ago, that this hope was answered. I then thought I

heard a voice in the wind, calling me; yet, even then I feared to reply,

lest the sentinel at the prison door should hear me. Was I right, madam,

in this conjecture--was it you who spoke?'

'Yes,' said Emily, with an involuntary sigh, 'you was right indeed.'

Du Pont, observing the painful emotions, which this question revived,

now changed the subject. 'In one of my excursions through the passage,

which I have mentioned, I overheard a singular conversation,' said he. 'In the passage!' said Emily, with surprise. 'I heard it in the passage,' said Du Pont, 'but it proceeded from an

apartment, adjoining the wall, within which the passage wound, and the

shell of the wall was there so thin, and was also somewhat decayed,

that I could distinctly hear every word, spoken on the other side. It

happened that Montoni and his companions were assembled in the room,

and Montoni began to relate the extraordinary history of the lady, his

predecessor, in the castle. He did, indeed, mention some very surprising

circumstances, and whether they were strictly true, his conscience

must decide; I fear it will determine against him. But you, madam, have

doubtless heard the report, which he designs should circulate, on the

subject of that lady's mysterious fate.'

'I have, sir,' replied Emily, 'and I perceive, that you doubt it.' 'I doubted it before the period I am speaking of,' rejoined Du Pont;--'but some circumstances, mentioned by Montoni, greatly

contributed to my suspicions. The account I then heard, almost convinced

me, that he was a murderer. I trembled for you;--the more so that I had

heard the guests mention your name in a manner, that threatened your

repose; and, knowing, that the most impious men are often the most

superstitious, I determined to try whether I could not awaken their

consciences, and awe them from the commission of the crime I dreaded. I

listened closely to Montoni, and, in the most striking passages of his

story, I joined my voice, and repeated his last words, in a disguised

and hollow tone.'