persecutions of
Bertolini, and Verezzi, by confining herself to her apartment; except
that sometimes, in an evening, she ventured to walk in the adjoining
corridor. Montoni appeared to respect his last promise, though he had
prophaned his first; for to his protection only could she attribute her
present repose; and in this she was now so secure, that she did not wish
to leave the castle, till she could obtain some certainty concerning
Valancourt; for which she waited, indeed, without any sacrifice of
her own comfort, since no circumstance had occurred to make her escape
probable.

On the fourth day, Ludovico informed her, that he had hopes of being
admitted to the presence of the prisoner; it being the turn of a
soldier, with whom he had been for some time familiar, to attend him
on the following night. He was not deceived in his hope; for, under
pretence of carrying in a pitcher of water, he entered the prison,
though, his prudence having prevented him from telling the sentinel the
real motive of his visit, he was obliged to make his conference with the
prisoner a very short one.

Emily awaited the result in her own apartment, Ludovico having promised
to accompany Annette to the corridor, in the evening; where, after
several hours impatiently counted, he arrived. Emily, having then
uttered the name of Valancourt, could articulate no more, but hesitated
in trembling expectation. 'The Chevalier would not entrust me with his
name, Signora,' replied Ludovico; 'but, when I just mentioned yours, he
seemed overwhelmed with joy, though he was not so much surprised as I
expected.' 'Does he then remember me?' she exclaimed.

'O! it is Mons. Valancourt,' said Annette, and looked impatiently at
Ludovico, who understood her look, and replied to Emily: 'Yes, lady, the
Chevalier does, indeed, remember you, and, I am sure, has a very great
regard for you, and I made bold to say you had for him. He then enquired
how you came to know he was in the castle, and whether you ordered me
to speak to him. The first question I could not answer, but the second I
did; and then he went off into his ecstasies again. I was afraid his joy
would have betrayed him to the sentinel at the door.'

'But how does he look, Ludovico?' interrupted Emily: 'is he not
melancholy and ill with this long confinement?'--'Why, as to melancholy,
I saw no symptom of that, lady, while I was with him, for he seemed
in the finest spirits I ever saw any body in, in all