At length, she reached her chamber, and, having secured the door of the
corridor, felt herself, for a moment, in safety. A profound stillness
reigned in this remote apartment, which not even the faint murmur of
the most distant sounds now reached. She sat down, near one of the
casements, and, as she gazed on the mountain-view beyond, the deep
repose of its beauty struck her with all the force of contrast, and she
could scarcely believe herself so near a scene of savage discord. The
contending elements seemed to have retired from their natural spheres,
and to have collected themselves into the minds of men, for there alone
the tempest now reigned. Emily tried to tranquillize her spirits, but anxiety made her
constantly listen for some sound, and often look out upon the ramparts,
where all, however, was lonely and still. As a sense of her own
immediate danger had decreased, her apprehension concerning Madame
Montoni heightened, who, she remembered, had been fiercely threatened
with confinement in the east turret, and it was possible, that her
husband had satisfied his present vengeance with this punishment. She,
therefore, determined, when night should return, and the inhabitants of
the castle should be asleep, to explore the way to the turret, which,
as the direction it stood in was mentioned, appeared not very difficult
to be done. She knew, indeed, that although her aunt might be there,
she could afford her no effectual assistance, but it might give her
some comfort even to know, that she was discovered, and to hear the
sound of her niece’s voice; for herself, any certainty, concerning
Madame Montoni’s fate, appeared more tolerable, than this exhausting
suspense. Meanwhile, Annette did not appear, and Emily was surprised, and
somewhat alarmed for her, whom, in the confusion of the late scene,
various accidents might have befallen, and it was improbable, that she
would have failed to come to her apartment, unless something
unfortunate had happened. Thus the hours passed in solitude, in silence, and in anxious
conjecturing. Being not once disturbed by a message, or a sound, it
appeared, that Montoni had wholly forgotten her, and it gave her some
comfort to find, that she could be so unnoticed. She endeavoured to
withdraw her thoughts from the anxiety, that preyed upon them, but they
refused control; she could neither read, nor draw, and the tones of her
lute were so utterly discordant with the present state of her feelings,
that she could not endure them for a moment. The sun, at length, set behind the western mountains; his fiery beams
faded from the clouds, and then a dun melancholy purple drew over them,
and gradually involved the features of the country below. Soon after,
the sentinels passed on the rampart to commence the watch. Twilight had now spread its gloom over every object; the dismal
obscurity of her chamber recalled fearful thoughts, but she remembered,
that to procure a light she must pass through a great extent of the
castle, and, above all, through the halls, where she had already
experienced so much horror. Darkness, indeed, in the present state of
her spirits, made silence and solitude terrible to her; it would also
prevent the possibility of her finding her way to the turret, and
condemn her to remain in suspense, concerning the fate of her aunt; yet
she dared not to venture forth for a lamp. Continuing at the casement, that she might catch the last lingering
gleam of evening, a thousand vague images of fear floated on her fancy. “What if some of these ruffians,” said she, “should find out the
private staircase, and in the darkness of night steal into my chamber!”
Then, recollecting the mysterious inhabitant of the neighbouring
apartment, her terror changed its object. “He is not a prisoner,” said
she, “though he remains in one chamber, for Montoni did not fasten the
door, when he left it; the unknown person himself did this; it is
certain, therefore, he can come out when he pleases.”

She paused, for, notwithstanding the terrors of darkness, she
considered it to be very improbable, whoever he was, that he could have
any interest in intruding upon her retirement; and again the subject of
her emotion changed, when, remembering her nearness to the chamber,
where the veil had formerly disclosed a dreadful spectacle, she doubted
whether some passage might not communicate between it and the insecure
door of the staircase. It was now entirely dark, and she left the casement. As she sat with
her eyes fixed on the hearth, she thought she perceived there a spark
of light; it twinkled and disappeared, and then again was visible. At
length, with much care, she fanned the embers of a wood fire, that had
been lighted in the morning, into flame, and, having communicated it to
a lamp, which always stood in her room, felt a satisfaction not to be
conceived, without a review of her situation. Her first care was to
guard the door of the staircase, for which purpose she placed against
it all the furniture she could move, and she was thus employed, for
some time, at the end of which she had another instance how much more
oppressive misfortune is to the idle, than to the busy; for, having
then leisure to think over all the circumstances of her present
afflictions, she imagined a thousand evils for futurity, and these real
and ideal subjects of distress alike wounded her mind. Thus heavily moved the hours till midnight, when she counted the sullen
notes of the great clock, as they rolled along the rampart, unmingled
with any sound, except the distant foot-fall of a sentinel, who came to
relieve guard. She now thought she might venture towards the turret,
and, having gently opened the chamber door to examine the corridor, and
to listen if any person was stirring in the castle, found all around in
perfect stillness. Yet no sooner had she left the room, than she
perceived a light flash on the walls of the corridor, and, without
waiting to see by whom it was carried, she shrunk back, and closed her
door. No one approaching, she conjectured, that it was Montoni going to
pay his midnight visit to her unknown neighbour, and she determined to
wait, till he should have retired to his own apartment. When the chimes had tolled another half hour, she once more opened the
door, and, perceiving that no person was in the corridor, hastily
crossed into a passage, that led along the south side of the castle
towards the staircase, whence she believed she could easily find her
way to the turret. Often pausing on her way, listening apprehensively
to the murmurs of the wind, and looking fearfully onward into the gloom
of the long passages, she, at length, reached the staircase; but there
her perplexity began. Two passages appeared, of which she knew not how
to prefer one, and was compelled, at last, to decide by chance, rather
than by circumstances.