Emily started back in terror, and looked for explanation to the abbess,
who made her a signal not to be alarmed, and calmly said to Agnes,
'Daughter, I have brought Mademoiselle St. Aubert to visit you: I
thought you would be glad to see her.'
Agnes made no reply; but, still gazing wildly upon Emily, exclaimed, 'It
is her very self! Oh! there is all that fascination in her look, which
proved my destruction! What would you have--what is it you came to
demand--Retribution?--It will soon be yours--it is yours already.
How many years have passed, since last I saw you! My crime is but as
yesterday.--Yet I am grown old beneath it; while you are still young and
blooming--blooming as when you forced me to commit that most abhorred
deed! O! could I once forget it!--yet what would that avail?--the deed
is done!' Emily, extremely shocked, would now have left the room; but the abbess,
taking her hand, tried to support her spirits, and begged she would stay
a few moments, when Agnes would probably be calm, whom now she tried to
sooth.
But the latter seemed to disregard her, while she still fixed
her eyes on Emily, and added, 'What are years of prayers and repentance?
they cannot wash out the foulness of murder!--Yes, murder! Where is
he--where is he?--Look there--look there!--see where he stalks along
the room! Why do you come to torment me now?' continued Agnes, while her
straining eyes were bent on air, 'why was not I punished before?--O!
do not frown so sternly! Hah! there again! 'til she herself! Why do you
look so piteously upon me--and smile, too? smile on me! What groan was
that?' Agnes sunk down, apparently lifeless, and Emily, unable to support
herself, leaned against the bed, while the abbess and the attendant nun
were applying the usual remedies to Agnes. 'Peace,' said the abbess,
when Emily was going to speak, 'the delirium is going off, she will soon
revive. When was she thus before, daughter?'
'Not of many weeks, madam,' replied the nun, 'but her spirits have been
much agitated by the arrival of the gentleman she wished so much to
see.' 'Yes,' observed the abbess, 'that has undoubtedly occasioned this
paroxysm of frenzy. When she is better, we will leave her to repose.'
Emily very readily consented, but, though she could now give little
assistance, she was unwilling to quit the chamber, while any might be
necessary. When Agnes recovered her senses, she again fixed her eyes on Emily, but
their wild expression was gone, and a gloomy melancholy had succeeded.
It was some moments before she recovered sufficient spirits to speak;
she then said feebly--'The likeness is wonderful!--surely it must
be something more than fancy. Tell me, I conjure you,' she added,
addressing Emily, 'though your name is St. Aubert, are you not the
daughter of the Marchioness?'