release of Montoni; but the terrors of hunger now
yielded to those of the Signor, and, when Emily left her, she was loudly
entreating, that her place of refuge might be concealed from him.

As Emily drew near the great hall, the sounds she heard and the people
she met in the passages renewed her alarm. The latter, however, were
peaceable, and did not interrupt her, though they looked earnestly at
her, as she passed, and sometimes spoke. On crossing the hall towards
the cedar room, where Montoni usually sat, she perceived, on the
pavement, fragments of swords, some tattered garments stained with
blood, and almost expected to have seen among them a dead body; but
from such a spectacle she was, at present, spared. As she approached
the room, the sound of several voices issued from within, and a dread
of appearing before many strangers, as well as of irritating Montoni
by such an intrusion, made her pause and falter from her purpose. She
looked up through the long arcades of the hall, in search of a servant,
who might bear a message, but no one appeared, and the urgency of what
she had to request made her still linger near the door. The voices
within were not in contention, though she distinguished those of several
of the guests of the preceding day; but still her resolution failed,
whenever she would have tapped at the door, and she had determined to
walk in the hall, till some person should appear, who might call Montoni
from the room, when, as she turned from the door, it was suddenly opened
by himself. Emily trembled, and was confused, while he almost started
with surprise, and all the terrors of his countenance unfolded
themselves. She forgot all she would have said, and neither enquired for
her aunt, or entreated for Annette, but stood silent and embarrassed.

After closing the door he reproved her for a meanness, of which she had
not been guilty, and sternly questioned her what she had overheard; an
accusation, which revived her recollection so far, that she assured
him she had not come thither with an intention to listen to his
conversation, but to entreat his compassion for her aunt, and for
Annette. Montoni seemed to doubt this assertion, for he regarded her
with a scrutinizing look; and the doubt evidently arose from no trifling
interest. Emily then further explained herself, and concluded with
entreating him to inform her, where her aunt was placed, and to permit,
that she might visit her; but he looked upon he