Henri, however, was less successful in disguising his feelings. From his
countenance an expression of terror was not entirely faded; he was
often silent and thoughtful, and when he attempted to laugh at the eager
enquiries of Mademoiselle Bearn, it was evidently only an attempt.
In the evening, the Count called, as he had promised, at the convent,
and Emily was surprised to perceive a mixture of playful ridicule and
of reserve in his mention of the north apartment. Of what had occurred
there, however, he said nothing, and, when she ventured to remind him
of his promise to tell her the result of his enquiries, and to ask if
he had received any proof, that those chambers were haunted, his look
became solemn, for a moment, then, seeming to recollect himself, he
smiled, and said, 'My dear Emily, do not suffer my lady abbess to infect
your good understanding with these fancies; she will teach you to expect
a ghost in every dark room.
But believe me,' added he, with a profound
sigh, 'the apparition of the dead comes not on light, or sportive
errands, to terrify, or to surprise the timid.' He paused, and fell into
a momentary thoughtfulness, and then added, 'We will say no more on this
subject.' Soon after, he took leave, and, when Emily joined some of the nuns, she
was surprised to find them acquainted with a circumstance, which she
had carefully avoided to mention, and expressing their admiration of
his intrepidity in having dared to pass a night in the apartment, whence
Ludovico had disappeared; for she had not considered with what rapidity
a tale of wonder circulates. The nuns had acquired their information
from peasants, who brought fruit to the monastery, and whose whole
attention had been fixed, since the disappearance of Ludovico, on what
was passing in the castle. Emily listened in silence to the various opinions of the nuns,
concerning the conduct of the Count, most of whom condemned it as rash
and presumptuous, affirming, that it was provoking the vengeance of an
evil spirit, thus to intrude upon its haunts.
Sister Frances contended, that the Count had acted with the bravery of a
virtuous mind. He knew himself guiltless of aught, that should provoke a
good spirit, and did not fear the spells of an evil one, since he could
claim the protection of an higher Power, of Him, who can command the
wicked, and will protect the innocent.
'The guilty cannot claim that protection!' said sister Agnes, 'let the
Count look to his conduct, that he do not forfeit his claim! Yet who is
he, that shall dare to call himself innocent!--all earthly innocence is
but comparative. Yet still how wide asunder are the extremes of guilt,
and to what an horrible depth may we fall! Oh!'-