ntoni should not be
informed of this event till the morning, for she considered, that he
might, perhaps, utter some inhuman expressions, such as in the present
temper of her spirits she could not bear. With Annette alone, therefore,
whom she encouraged by her own example, she performed some of the last
solemn offices for the dead, and compelled herself to watch during the
night, by the body of her deceased aunt. During this solemn period,
rendered more awful by the tremendous storm that shook the air, she
frequently addressed herself to Heaven for support and protection, and
her pious prayers, we may believe, were accepted of the God, that giveth
comfort.

CHAPTER V

The midnight clock has toll'd; and hark, the bell
Of Death beats slow! heard ye the note profound?
It pauses now; and now, with rising knell,
Flings to the hollow gale its sullen sound.
MASON

When Montoni was informed of the death of his wife, and considered
that she had died without giving him the signature so necessary to
the accomplishment of his wishes, no sense of decency restrained the
expression of his resentment. Emily anxiously avoided his presence, and
watched, during two days and two nights, with little intermission, by
the corpse of her late aunt. Her mind deeply impressed with the unhappy
fate of this object, she forgot all her faults, her unjust and imperious
conduct to herself; and, remembering only her sufferings, thought of
her only with tender compassion. Sometimes, however, she could not avoid
musing upon the strange infatuation that had proved so fatal to her
aunt, and had involved herself in a labyrinth of misfortune, from which
she saw no means of escaping,--the marriage with Montoni. But, when
she considered this circumstance, it was 'more in sorrow than in
anger,'--more for the purpose of indulging lamentation, than reproach.

In her pious cares she was not disturbed by Montoni, who not only
avoided the chamber, where the remains of his wife were laid, but that
part of the castle adjoining to it, as if he had apprehended a contagion
in death. He seemed to have given no orders respecting the funeral,
and Emily began to fear he meant to offer a new insult to the memory of
Madame Montoni; but from this apprehension she was relieved, when, on
the evening of the second day, Annette informed her, that the interment
was to take place that night. She knew, that Montoni would not attend;
and it was so very grievous to he