n
after, received a summons to repair to the great court, where the mules,
with her guides, were in waiting. Emily here tried in vain to sooth the
weeping Annette, who persisted in saying, that she should never see her
dear young lady again; a fear, which her mistress secretly thought
too well justified, but which she endeavoured to restrain, while,
with apparent composure, she bade this affectionate servant farewell.
Annette, however, followed to the courts, which were now thronged with
people, busy in preparation for the enemy; and, having seen her mount
her mule and depart, with her attendants, through the portal, turned
into the castle and wept again.

Emily, meanwhile, as she looked back upon the gloomy courts of the
castle, no longer silent as when she had first entered them, but
resounding with the noise of preparation for their defence, as well as
crowded with soldiers and workmen, hurrying to and fro; and, when she
passed once more under the huge portcullis, which had formerly struck
her with terror and dismay, and, looking round, saw no walls to confine
her steps--felt, in spite of anticipation, the sudden joy of a prisoner,
who unexpectedly finds himself at liberty. This emotion would not suffer
her now to look impartially on the dangers that awaited her without; on
mountains infested by hostile parties, who seized every opportunity for
plunder; and on a journey commended under the guidance of men, whose
countenances certainly did not speak favourably of their dispositions.
In the present moments, she could only rejoice, that she was liberated
from those walls, which she had entered with such dismal forebodings;
and, remembering the superstitious presentiment, which had then seized
her, she could now smile at the impression it had made upon her mind.

As she gazed, with these emotions, upon the turrets of the castle,
rising high over the woods, among which she wound, the stranger, whom
she believed to be confined there, returned to her remembrance, and
anxiety and apprehension, lest he should be Valancourt, again passed
like a cloud upon her joy. She recollected every circumstance,
concerning this unknown person, since the night, when she had first
heard him play the song of her native province;--circumstances, which
she had so often recollected, and compared before, without extracting
from them any thing like conviction, and which still only prompted her
to believe, that Valancourt was a prisoner at Udolpho