paler
than before, trembled, and had nearly sunk at his feet. He observed
her emotion, with apparent indifference, and interrupted the silence
by telling her, he must be gone. Emily, however, recalled her spirits
sufficiently to enable her to repeat her request. And, when Montoni
absolutely refused it, her slumbering mind was roused.

'I can no longer remain here with propriety, sir,' said she, 'and I may
be allowed to ask, by what right you detain me.'

'It is my will that you remain here,' said Montoni, laying his hand on
the door to go; 'let that suffice you.'

Emily, considering that she had no appeal from this will, forbore to
dispute his right, and made a feeble effort to persuade him to be
just. 'While my aunt lived, sir,' said she, in a tremulous voice, 'my
residence here was not improper; but now, that she is no more, I may
surely be permitted to depart. My stay cannot benefit you, sir, and will
only distress me.'

'Who told you, that Madame Montoni was dead?' said Montoni, with an
inquisitive eye. Emily hesitated, for nobody had told her so, and
she did not dare to avow the having seen that spectacle in the
portal-chamber, which had compelled her to the belief.

'Who told you so?' he repeated, more sternly.

'Alas! I know it too well,' replied Emily: 'spare me on this terrible
subject!'

She sat down on a bench to support herself.

'If you wish to see her,' said Montoni, 'you may; she lies in the east
turret.'

He now left the room, without awaiting her reply, and returned to the
cedar chamber, where such of the chevaliers as had not before seen
Emily, began to rally him, on the discovery they had made; but Montoni
did not appear disposed to bear this mirth, and they changed the
subject.

Having talked with the subtle Orsino, on the plan of an excursion, which
he meditated for a future day, his friend advised, that they should lie
in wait for the enemy, which Verezzi impetuously opposed, reproached
Orsino with want of spirit, and swore, that, if Montoni would let him
lead on fifty men, he would conquer all that should oppose him.

Orsino smiled contemptuously; Montoni smiled too, but he also listened.
Verezzi then proceeded with vehement declamation and assertion, till he
was stopped by an argument of Orsino, which he knew not how to answer
better than by invective. His fierce spirit detested the cunning caution
of Orsino, whom he constantly opposed, and whose inveterate, though
silent, hatred