learned also the number of Montoni's troops,
and that it had been much increased, since his late successes. The
conclusion of his plan was soon effected. Having returned with his
party, who received the watch-word and other assistance from their
friends within, Montoni and his officers were surprised by one division,
who had been directed to their apartment, while the other maintained the
slight combat, which preceded the surrender of the whole garrison. Among
the persons, seized with Montoni, was Orsino, the assassin, who had
joined him on his first arrival at Udolpho, and whose concealment had
been made known to the senate by Count Morano, after the unsuccessful
attempt of the latter to carry off Emily. It was, indeed, partly for
the purpose of capturing this man, by whom one of the senate had been
murdered, that the expedition was undertaken, and its success was so
acceptable to them, that Morano was instantly released, notwithstanding
the political suspicions, which Montoni, by his secret accusation,
had excited against him. The celerity and ease, with which this whole
transaction was completed, prevented it from attracting curiosity, or
even from obtaining a place in any of the published records of that
time; so that Emily, who remained in Languedoc, was ignorant of the
defeat and signal humiliation of her late persecutor.

Her mind was now occupied with sufferings, which no effort of reason had
yet been able to controul. Count De Villefort, who sincerely attempted
whatever benevolence could suggest for softening them, sometimes
allowed her the solitude she wished for, sometimes led her into friendly
parties, and constantly protected her, as much as possible, from the
shrewd enquiries and critical conversation of the Countess. He often
invited her to make excursions, with him and his daughter, during which
he conversed entirely on questions, suitable to her taste, without
appearing to consult it, and thus endeavoured gradually to withdraw her
from the subject of her grief, and to awake other interests in her mind.
Emily, to whom he appeared as the enlightened friend and protector of
her youth, soon felt for him the tender affection of a daughter, and
her heart expanded to her young friend Blanche, as to a sister, whose
kindness and simplicity compensated for the want of more brilliant
qualities. It was long before she could sufficiently abstract her
mind from Valancourt to listen to the story, promised by old Dorot