The Mysteries of Udolpho - Page 444/578

'What was the chevalier's name, Dorothee?' said Emily.

'Why that I will not tell even to you, ma'amselle, for evil may come of

it. I once heard from a person, who is since dead, that the Marchioness

was not in law the wife of the Marquis, for that she had before been

privately married to the gentleman she was so much attached to, and was

afterwards afraid to own it to her father, who was a very stern man; but

this seems very unlikely, and I never gave much faith to it. As I was

saying, the Marquis was most out of humour, as I thought, when the

chevalier I spoke of had been at the chateau, and, at last, his ill

treatment of my lady made her quite miserable. He would see hardly any

visitors at the castle, and made her live almost by herself. I was

her constant attendant, and saw all she suffered, but still she never

complained. 'After matters had gone on thus, for near a year, my lady was taken ill,

and I thought her long fretting had made her so,--but, alas! I fear it

was worse than that.'

'Worse! Dorothee,' said Emily, 'can that be possible?' 'I fear it was so, madam, there were strange appearances. But I will

only tell what happened. My lord, the Marquis--' 'Hush, Dorothee, what sounds were those?' said Emily. Dorothee changed countenance, and, while they both listened, they heard,

on the stillness of the night, music of uncommon sweetness. 'I have surely heard that voice before!' said Emily, at length. 'I have often heard it, and at this same hour,' said Dorothee, solemnly,

'and, if spirits ever bring music--that is surely the music of one!'

Emily, as the sounds drew nearer, knew them to be the same she had

formerly heard at the time of her father's death, and, whether it was

the remembrance they now revived of that melancholy event, or that

she was struck with superstitious awe, it is certain she was so much

affected, that she had nearly fainted.

'I think I once told you, madam,' said Dorothee, 'that I first heard

this music, soon after my lady's death! I well remember the night!'--

'Hark! it comes again!' said Emily, 'let us open the window, and

listen.' They did so; but, soon, the sounds floated gradually away into distance,

and all was again still; they seemed to have sunk among the woods,

whose tufted tops were visible upon the clear horizon, while every other

feature of the scene was involved in the night-shade, which, however,

allowed the eye an indistinct view of some objects in the garden below.