heart of a fiend. Whether his was hardened by a conviction
of Madame Montoni's guilt, or that a bare suspicion of it made him
eager to exercise vengeance, he was totally and alike insensible to the
distress of his wife, and to the pleading looks of Emily, whom he made
no attempt to raise, but was vehemently menacing both, when he was
called out of the room by some person at the door. As he shut the door,
Emily heard him turn the lock and take out the key; so that Madame
Montoni and herself were now prisoners; and she saw that his designs
became more and more terrible. Her endeavours to explain his motives
for this circumstance were almost as ineffectual as those to sooth the
distress of her aunt, whose innocence she could not doubt; but she, at
length, accounted for Montoni's readiness to suspect his wife by his own
consciousness of cruelty towards her, and for the sudden violence of
his present conduct against both, before even his suspicions could be
completely formed, by his general eagerness to effect suddenly whatever
he was led to desire and his carelessness of justice, or humanity, in
accomplishing it.

Madame Montoni, after some time, again looked round, in search of a
possibility of escape from the castle, and conversed with Emily on the
subject, who was now willing to encounter any hazard, though she forbore
to encourage a hope in her aunt, which she herself did not admit. How
strongly the edifice was secured, and how vigilantly guarded, she knew
too well; and trembled to commit their safety to the caprice of
the servant, whose assistance they must solicit. Old Carlo was
compassionate, but he seemed to be too much in his master's interest to
be trusted by them; Annette could of herself do little, and Emily knew
Ludovico only from her report. At present, however, these considerations
were useless, Madame Montoni and her niece being shut up from all
intercourse, even with the persons, whom there might be these reasons to
reject.

In the hall, confusion and tumult still reigned. Emily, as she listened
anxiously to the murmur, that sounded along the gallery, sometimes
fancied she heard the clashing of swords, and, when she considered the
nature of the provocation, given by Montoni, and his impetuosity, it
appeared probable, that nothing less than arms would terminate the
contention. Madame Montoni, having exhausted all her expressions of
indignation, and Emily, hers of comfort, they remained silent, in that
kin