The gloom of the hour, perhaps, made her sensible to some degree of
fear, which she might not otherwise have felt; for, only a few minutes
before, she had seen Mons. Bonnac pass. The steps were quick and
bounding, and, in the next moment, the door of the chamber opened, and a
person entered, whose features were veiled in the obscurity of
twilight; but his voice could not be concealed, for it was the voice
of Valancourt! At the sound, never heard by Emily, without emotion, she
started, in terror, astonishment and doubtful pleasure, and had scarcely
beheld him at her feet, when she sunk into a seat, overcome by the
various emotions, that contended at her heart, and almost insensible to
that voice, whose earnest and trembling calls seemed as if endeavouring
to save her. Valancourt, as he hung over Emily, deplored his own rash
impatience, in having thus surprised her: for when he had arrived at
the chateau, too anxious to await the return of the Count, who, he
understood, was in the grounds, he went himself to seek him, when, as
he passed the tower, he was struck by the sound of Emily's voice, and
immediately ascended. It was a considerable time before she revived, but, when her
recollection returned, she repulsed his attentions, with an air of
reserve, and enquired, with as much displeasure as it was possible she
could feel in these first moments of his appearance, the occasion of his
visit.
'Ah Emily!' said Valancourt, 'that air, those words--alas! I have, then,
little to hope--when you ceased to esteem me, you ceased also to love
me!' 'Most true, sir,' replied Emily, endeavouring to command her trembling
voice; 'and if you had valued my esteem, you would not have given me
this new occasion for uneasiness.'
Valancourt's countenance changed suddenly from the anxieties of doubt to
an expression of surprise and dismay: he was silent a moment, and then
said, 'I had been taught to hope for a very different reception! Is
it, then, true, Emily, that I have lost your regard forever? am I to
believe, that, though your esteem for me may return--your affection
never can? Can the Count have meditated the cruelty, which now tortures
me with a second death?'
The voice, in which he spoke this, alarmed Emily as much as his words
surprised her, and, with trembling impatience, she begged that he would
explain them. 'Can any explanation be necessary?' said Valancourt, 'do you not know
how cruelly my conduct has been misrepresented? that the actions of
which you once believed me guilty (and, O Emily! how could you so
degrade me in your opinion, even for a moment!) those actions--I hold in
as much contempt and abhorrence as yourself? Are you, indeed, ignorant,
that Count de Villefort has detected the slanders, that have robbed me
of all I hold dear on earth, and has invited me hither to justify to
you my former conduct? It is surely impossible you can be uninformed of
these circumstances, and I am again torturing myself with a false hope!'