The Mysteries of Udolpho - Page 491/578

Du Pont sighed, while he listened to these words; and, endeavouring to

hope what his friend believed, he willingly yielded to an invitation to

prolong his visit at the chateau, which we now leave for the monastery

of St. Claire. When the nuns had retired to rest, Emily stole to her appointment with

sister Frances, whom she found in her cell, engaged in prayer, before a

little table, where appeared the image she was addressing, and, above,

the dim lamp that gave light to the place. Turning her eyes, as the door

opened, she beckoned to Emily to come in, who, having done so, seated

herself in silence beside the nun's little mattress of straw, till

her orisons should conclude. The latter soon rose from her knees, and,

taking down the lamp and placing it on the table, Emily perceived

there a human scull and bones, lying beside an hour-glass; but the nun,

without observing her emotion, sat down on the mattress by her, saying,

'Your curiosity, sister, has made you punctual, but you have nothing

remarkable to hear in the history of poor Agnes, of whom I avoided

to speak in the presence of my lay-sisters, only because I would not

publish her crime to them.' 'I shall consider your confidence in me as a favour,' said Emily, 'and

will not misuse it.'

'Sister Agnes,' resumed the nun, 'is of a noble family, as the dignity

of her air must already have informed you, but I will not dishonour

their name so much as to reveal it. Love was the occasion of her crime

and of her madness. She was beloved by a gentleman of inferior fortune,

and her father, as I have heard, bestowing her on a nobleman, whom

she disliked, an ill-governed passion proved her destruction.--Every

obligation of virtue and of duty was forgotten, and she prophaned her

marriage vows; but her guilt was soon detected, and she would have

fallen a sacrifice to the vengeance of her husband, had not her father

contrived to convey her from his power. By what means he did this,

I never could learn; but he secreted her in this convent, where he

afterwards prevailed with her to take the veil, while a report was

circulated in the world, that she was dead, and the father, to save his

daughter, assisted the rumour, and employed such means as induced her

husband to believe she had become a victim to his jealousy. You look

surprised,' added the nun, observing Emily's countenance; 'I allow the

story is uncommon, but not, I believe, without a parallel.'