'Your sudden departure from Udolpho'--said she. Laurentini groaned.
'The reports that followed it,' continued Emily--'The west chamber--the
mournful veil--the object it conceals!--when murders are committed--'
The nun shrieked. 'What! there again!' said she, endeavouring to raise
herself, while her starting eyes seemed to follow some object round
the room--'Come from the grave! What! Blood--blood too!--There was
no blood--thou canst not say it!--Nay, do not smile,--do not smile so
piteously!' Laurentini fell into convulsions, as she uttered the last words; and
Emily, unable any longer to endure the horror of the scene, hurried from
the room, and sent some nuns to the assistance of the abbess.
The Lady Blanche, and the boarders, who were in the parlour, now
assembled round Emily, and, alarmed by her manner and affrighted
countenance, asked a hundred questions, which she avoided answering
further, than by saying, that she believed sister Agnes was dying. They
received this as a sufficient explanation of her terror, and had then
leisure to offer restoratives, which, at length, somewhat revived Emily,
whose mind was, however, so much shocked with the terrible surmises, and
perplexed with doubts by some words from the nun, that she was unable
to converse, and would have left the convent immediately, had she not
wished to know whether Laurentini would survive the late attack. After
waiting some time, she was informed, that, the convulsions having
ceased, Laurentini seemed to be reviving, and Emily and Blanche were
departing, when the abbess appeared, who, drawing the former aside, said
she had something of consequence to say to her, but, as it was late,
she would not detain her then, and requested to see her on the following
day.
Emily promised to visit her, and, having taken leave, returned with the
Lady Blanche towards the chateau, on the way to which the deep gloom of
the woods made Blanche lament, that the evening was so far advanced; for
the surrounding stillness and obscurity rendered her sensible of fear,
though there was a servant to protect her; while Emily was too much
engaged by the horrors of the scene she had just witnessed, to be
affected by the solemnity of the shades, otherwise than as they served
to promote her gloomy reverie, from which, however, she was at length
recalled by the Lady Blanche, who pointed out, at some distance, in
the dusky path they were winding, two persons slowly advancing. It was
impossible to avoid them without striking into a still more secluded
part of the wood, whither the strangers might easily follow; but all
apprehension vanished, when Emily distinguished the voice of Mons. Du
Pont, and perceived, that his companion was the gentleman, whom she
had seen at the monastery, and who was now conversing with so much
earnestness as not immediately to perceive their approach.