the lightnings glanced, that the vessel was much nearer
the shore.

The Count's servants were now seen, running to and fro, on the rocks;
some venturing almost to the point of the crags, and bending over, held
out their torches fastened to long poles; while others, whose steps
could be traced only by the course of the lights, descended the steep
and dangerous path, that wound to the margin of the sea, and, with loud
halloos, hailed the mariners, whose shrill whistle, and then feeble
voices, were heard, at intervals, mingling with the storm. Sudden shouts
from the people on the rocks increased the anxiety of Blanche to an
almost intolerable degree: but her suspense, concerning the fate of the
mariners, was soon over, when Henri, running breathless into the room,
told that the vessel was anchored in the bay below, but in so shattered
a condition, that it was feared she would part before the crew could
disembark. The Count immediately gave orders for his own boats to assist
in bringing them to shore, and that such of these unfortunate
strangers as could not be accommodated in the adjacent hamlet should
be entertained at the chateau. Among the latter, were Emily St. Aubert,
Monsieur Du Pont, Ludovico and Annette, who, having embarked at Leghorn
and reached Marseilles, were from thence crossing the Gulf of Lyons,
when this storm overtook them. They were received by the Count with his
usual benignity, who, though Emily wished to have proceeded immediately
to the monastery of St. Claire, would not allow her to leave the
chateau, that night; and, indeed, the terror and fatigue she had
suffered would scarcely have permitted her to go farther.

In Monsieur Du Pont the Count discovered an old acquaintance, and
much joy and congratulation passed between them, after which Emily was
introduced by name to the Count's family, whose hospitable benevolence
dissipated the little embarrassment, which her situation had occasioned
her, and the party were soon seated at the supper-table. The unaffected
kindness of Blanche and the lively joy she expressed on the escape of
the strangers, for whom her pity had been so much interested, gradually
revived Emily's languid spirits; and Du Pont, relieved from his terrors
for her and for himself, felt the full contrast, between his late
situation on a dark and tremendous ocean, and his present one, in a
cheerful mansion, where he was surrounded with plenty, elegance and
smiles of welcome.

Annette,