At length, she found herself near the avenue, which, on the night of her
father's arrival, Michael had attempted to pass in search of a house,
which was still nearly as wild and desolate as it had then appeared; for
the Count had been so much engaged in directing other improvements, that
he had neglected to give orders, concerning this extensive approach,
and the road was yet broken, and the trees overloaded with their own
luxuriance.
As she stood surveying it, and remembering the emotions, which she had
formerly suffered there, she suddenly recollected the figure, that had
been seen stealing among the trees, and which had returned no answer to
Michael's repeated calls; and she experienced somewhat of the fear, that
had then assailed her, for it did not appear improbable, that these deep
woods were occasionally the haunt of banditti. She, therefore, turned
back, and was hastily pursuing her way to the dancers, when she heard
steps approaching from the avenue; and, being still beyond the call of
the peasants on the green, for she could neither hear their voices, or
their music, she quickened her pace; but the persons following gained
fast upon her, and, at length, distinguishing the voice of Henri, she
walked leisurely, till he came up. He expressed some surprise at meeting
her so far from the company; and, on her saying, that the pleasant
moon-light had beguiled her to walk farther than she intended, an
exclamation burst from the lips of his companion, and she thought she
heard Valancourt speak!
It was, indeed, he! and the meeting was such as
may be imagined, between persons so affectionate, and so long separated
as they had been. In the joy of these moments, Emily forgot all her past sufferings, and
Valancourt seemed to have forgotten, that any person but Emily existed;
while Henri was a silent and astonished spectator of the scene.
Valancourt asked a thousand questions, concerning herself and Montoni,
which there was now no time to answer; but she learned, that her letter
had been forwarded to him, at Paris, which he had previously quitted,
and was returning to Gascony, whither the letter also returned, which,
at length, informed him of Emily's arrival, and on the receipt of which
he had immediately set out for Languedoc. On reaching the
monastery, whence she had dated her letter, he found, to his extreme
disappointment, that the gates were already closed for the night;
and believing, that he should not see Emily, till the morrow, he was
returning to his little inn, with the intention of writing to her, when
he was overtaken by Henri, with whom he had been intimate at Paris, and
was led to her, whom he was secretly lamenting that he should not see,
till the following day.