The next morning, Emily went early to Madame Montoni’s room. Her aunt had slept well and was feeling much stronger. With her health restored, her courage had also returned, and she again felt determined to resist Montoni’s demands. However, her confidence was still mixed with fear, and Emily, who dreaded the consequences of further defiance, tried to persuade her to give up the struggle.
Madame Montoni had always possessed a stubborn nature. She enjoyed opposing others and, whenever unpleasant facts were placed before her, she did not first ask whether they were true. Instead, she searched for reasons to prove them false. Years of habit had made this tendency so natural that she no longer recognized it in herself.
Therefore, Emily’s warnings did not convince her aunt. Instead, they only awakened her pride. Madame Montoni continued to believe that she could somehow avoid obeying her husband.
“If I could only escape from this castle,” she said, “I would no longer fear his power. I could separate myself from him completely and live peacefully on the lands that still belong to me.”
Emily agreed that freedom would be a blessing, but she doubted that such an escape was possible.
“The gates are heavily guarded,” Emily replied. “And if we trust a servant with such a secret, we cannot know whether he might betray us, either intentionally or by accident. If Montoni discovers your plan, he will show no mercy.”
Emily herself longed desperately to leave the castle and return to France, but she thought only of her aunt’s safety.
“I beg you,” she said, “do not provoke him further. Accept his demand rather than risk bringing greater suffering upon yourself.”
But Madame Montoni could not abandon the idea of escape. She continued thinking of every possible opportunity.
While they were discussing the matter, Montoni suddenly entered the room.
Without showing the slightest concern for his wife’s recent illness, he said coldly:
“I have come to remind you that it is foolish to continue resisting me. I will give you until this evening to decide whether you will agree to my demand or force me to move you to the east turret.”
He paused, then continued:
“I shall have several gentlemen dining with me today. I expect you to sit at the head of the table, and Emily must also attend.”
Madame Montoni was about to refuse immediately, but she stopped herself. She realized that during the dinner she might have a small opportunity to observe the situation and perhaps advance her plans. Therefore, she reluctantly agreed.
Montoni soon left the room.
Emily was shocked by his command. The thought of appearing before strangers terrified her. The memory of Count Morano’s words returned to her mind, making her fears even stronger.
When it was time to prepare for dinner, Emily dressed more simply than usual, hoping to avoid attention. However, her attempt failed.
As she passed through the corridor toward her aunt’s room, Montoni stopped her.
“You look as though you are trying to hide yourself,” he said. “Wear your finest dress. I want you to appear properly before my guests.”
Emily was horrified when he ordered her to wear the very gown that had once been prepared for her marriage to Count Morano. She had thought that dress was forever connected with a painful and unwanted future.
The gown was made in the Neapolitan style, designed to display the beauty of the wearer’s figure. Her chestnut hair was loosely arranged with pearls, allowing it to fall naturally around her neck.
Although the dress was magnificent, its elegance came from a simple and graceful taste far better than Madame Montoni’s. Emily had never looked more beautiful.
She could only hope that Montoni’s reason was nothing more than a desire to display his family before his guests.
Still, she would never have worn such a dress except under his direct command.
When Emily finally entered the dining hall, her nervousness gave her cheeks a gentle color that made her appearance even more charming. She had delayed leaving her room until the last possible moment, and when she arrived, Montoni and his guests were already seated.
She intended to sit beside her aunt, but Montoni stopped her with a gesture.
Two of the guests immediately rose and placed her between them.
The first man was tall and had strong Italian features. His nose was sharply curved, and his dark eyes seemed full of fire whenever his emotions were stirred. Even when calm, there was something fierce and wild in his expression. His face was long and narrow, and his skin had a sickly yellow tone.
The second man appeared to be about forty years old. His features were also Italian but very different from the first man’s. His expression was slow, clever, and watchful. His small dark-gray eyes seemed hidden beneath his face, and his sunburned skin and irregular features gave him an unpleasant appearance.
Eight more men sat around the table. They were all dressed alike, and each carried an expression of cruelty, cunning, or uncontrolled desire.
As Emily looked at them nervously, she remembered the frightening events of the previous morning. For a moment, she almost imagined that she was surrounded by bandits.
Then she thought of her peaceful childhood, her beloved home, and the kind friends she had lost. The contrast between her former happiness and her present situation filled her with sadness and disbelief.
The hall itself made the scene even more frightening.
It was an ancient room, vast and gloomy. Most of its light came from one large Gothic window and a pair of open doors that revealed the western wall of the castle and the wild mountains of the Apennines beyond.
The central part of the hall rose into a high vaulted ceiling decorated with intricate designs. Marble pillars supported the structure, and beyond them long shadowy corridors stretched into darkness.
The servants’ footsteps echoed strangely through those distant passages. Their figures, barely visible in the dim light, often startled Emily’s imagination.
She looked at Montoni, his guests, and the gloomy surroundings. Then she remembered her peaceful home in France, and sorrow once again filled her heart.
As dinner continued, Emily noticed something she had never seen before. Montoni seemed to command these men with complete authority.
Although he had always appeared proud and arrogant, there was now a stronger sense of power in his manner. His guests did not behave like servants, but they clearly respected his superiority.
The conversation during dinner focused mainly on war and politics.
They discussed the condition of Venice, its dangers, the character of its ruler, the Doge, and the actions of its leading senators. Then they turned to the affairs of Rome.
When the meal ended, each man filled his glass from a golden wine container beside him.
Montoni raised his glass.
“Success to our exploits!” the men cried.
But before Montoni could drink, something strange happened.
The wine in his glass began to hiss and rise. As he held the glass away from himself, it suddenly shattered into countless pieces.
Montoni immediately understood what had happened.
He often used a special type of Venetian glass that was said to break when poisoned liquid was placed inside it.
His face darkened.
“Someone here has tried to betray me,” he said.
He immediately ordered every gate of the castle closed. Drawing his sword, he looked around at his silent guests.
“There is a traitor among us. Those who are innocent must help me discover the guilty person.”
The men reacted with anger. Their eyes flashed, and every one of them drew his sword.
Madame Montoni, terrified by what might happen, attempted to leave the hall.
“Stay!” Montoni ordered.
But his next words were lost in the sudden shouting of everyone in the room.
Eventually, Montoni commanded that all servants be brought before him.
They denied any knowledge of the crime, but their words were not believed. Since only Montoni’s wine had been poisoned, it seemed obvious that someone had deliberately attempted to kill him, and the servant responsible for handling the wine must have been involved.
Montoni ordered the servant in charge of the wine, along with another man whose frightened expression suggested guilt, to be chained and locked in an old prison room.
He would have imprisoned his guests as well, but he realized such an action would create even greater danger.
Instead, he swore that no one would leave the castle until the matter was investigated.
Then he turned to his wife.
“Return to your room.”
Emily followed Madame Montoni.
About half an hour later, Montoni entered their dressing room.
Emily was horrified by his appearance. His face was dark with anger, and his lips trembled.
“You cannot deny your crime,” he said to his wife. “I have proof of your guilt. Your only hope is to confess completely. Your silence and lies will save you nothing. Your accomplice has already confessed.”
Emily could hardly believe what she was hearing.
Her aunt accused of such a terrible crime?
She could not accept even the possibility.
Madame Montoni was too overwhelmed to answer. Her face changed from extreme paleness to deep redness, and she trembled violently. Whether from fear or anger, Emily could not tell.
“Do not waste your words,” Montoni said. “Your face has already confessed your guilt. You will be sent immediately to the east turret.”
“This accusation is only an excuse for your cruelty,” Madame Montoni replied with difficulty. “I refuse to defend myself against something you do not even believe.”
“Sir,” Emily said firmly, “this accusation is false. I would swear it with my life.”
She looked at Montoni’s furious expression and continued:
“You have been terribly deceived. Someone wishes to destroy my aunt. You could not truly believe such a horrible crime was possible.”
Montoni’s lips trembled even more.
“If you value your own safety,” he said coldly to Emily, “you will remain silent. If you continue speaking, you will learn the consequences.”
Emily looked upward sadly.
“Then there is truly nothing left to hope for.”
“Silence!” Montoni shouted. “Or you will discover there is much to fear.”
He turned back to his wife, who began passionately protesting her innocence.
Her anger only increased his rage.
Emily, terrified of what might happen, threw herself between them and held onto Montoni’s knees. She looked up at him with a pleading expression that might have softened even the hardest heart.
But Montoni remained unmoved.
Whether he truly believed his wife guilty or simply wanted an excuse for revenge, he ignored Emily completely.
Then someone called him from outside.
He left the room, locked the door behind him, and took the key.
Emily immediately understood their situation.
They were prisoners.
She tried to explain to her aunt that Montoni’s suspicion came from his own cruel nature. She believed that because he had treated his wife harshly for so long, he was ready to believe the worst of her. His sudden violence was simply another example of his impatience and lack of compassion.
After some time, Madame Montoni again began thinking of escape.
Emily was now willing to attempt anything, but she could not encourage a hope that she herself considered unlikely.
The castle was too strongly protected. The servants could not be trusted.
Old Carlo was kind, but he seemed loyal to Montoni. Annette had little power to help. And Emily knew Ludovico only through Annette’s descriptions.
For the moment, all these thoughts were useless. They were completely cut off from everyone.
Outside, the castle remained filled with confusion.
Emily listened anxiously to the distant sounds from the halls. Sometimes she thought she heard swords striking together.
Considering Montoni’s anger and the insults he had received, she feared that the conflict might end only through violence.
At last, after both women had exhausted their anger and comfort, they sat silently.
The silence after the chaos felt almost unnatural, like the quiet morning after an earthquake.
Emily’s mind was filled with uncertainty and fear.
Then a knock came at the door.
“Who is there?” she asked.
A frightened whisper answered.
“Dear madam, please let me in. I have so much to tell you.”
It was Annette.
“The door is locked,” Madame Montoni replied.
“Yes, but please open it!”
“Montoni has the key,” said Madame Montoni.
“Oh, blessed Virgin! What will happen to us?” Annette cried.
“Help us escape,” her mistress replied. “Where is Ludovico?”
“Below in the hall, fighting with all of them!”
“Fighting?” Madame Montoni exclaimed. “Who is fighting?”
“The Signor, all the gentlemen, and many others!”
“Is anyone badly injured?” Emily asked nervously.
“Injured? Yes! They are bleeding everywhere, and the swords are clashing! Oh, saints above, let me in! They are coming this way! They will kill me!”
“Run!” Emily cried. “Run! We cannot open the door!”
Annette fled.
Emily and Madame Montoni were left alone again.
Soon afterward, Montoni returned with three violent-looking men.
“Carry out your orders,” he said, pointing toward his wife.
Madame Montoni screamed, but the men immediately seized her and carried her away.
Emily collapsed onto a sofa and lost consciousness.
When she recovered, she was alone.
She could remember only fragments of what had happened, but they were enough to fill her with terror.
She looked around desperately, searching for some way to learn what had happened to her aunt.
Eventually, she gathered enough strength to check the door.
It was unlocked.
Slowly, she stepped into the corridor.
Her first thought was to find information about Madame Montoni.
She made her way toward the smaller hall where the servants usually gathered.
Everywhere she went, she heard distant sounds of fighting. Figures rushed through the passages, and their frightened faces filled her with fear.
At last, she reached the smaller hall.
It was empty.
The silence there was almost as frightening as the violence she had escaped.
She sat down, trying to recover her breath.
Only then did she remember her own danger.
She could not search the entire castle for her aunt, especially while violent men were still moving through the halls.
But she also feared remaining where she was, because the room might soon become a meeting place for the fighters.
While she sat there, uncertain what to do, distant voices approached.
She tried to leave, but the sounds came from the only passage available.
She had no choice but to wait.
Soon she heard groans.
Then she saw several men carrying someone wounded.
Emily nearly collapsed.
The men passed through the hall without noticing her.
She tried to leave but was too weak and sat down again.
A cold feeling spread through her body. Her vision became unclear.
She did not completely lose consciousness, but she felt overwhelmed by fear and exhaustion.
When she recovered, she hurried back toward her room.
She avoided the main passages and used smaller rooms whenever possible.
At last, she reached her chamber and locked the corridor door.
For a moment, she felt safe.
The room was completely silent.
Looking through the window at the peaceful mountains outside, she could hardly believe that such violence existed so close to her.
It seemed as though the storm had left nature and entered only the hearts of men.
Emily tried to calm herself, but she could not stop worrying about Madame Montoni.
She remembered that her aunt had been threatened with imprisonment in the east turret.
Perhaps Montoni had carried out that threat.
Emily decided that when night returned and the castle became quiet, she would attempt to reach the turret.
Even if she could do nothing to save her aunt, she wanted at least to know her fate.
Waiting in uncertainty was unbearable.
Hours passed.
Annette never appeared.
Emily became worried, believing that something terrible might have happened to the girl.
The entire day passed in silence.
Montoni seemed to have forgotten Emily completely, and although this gave her some comfort, her anxiety remained.
She could not read.
She could not draw.
Even her music brought no comfort.
As evening arrived, the sun disappeared behind the mountains.
The sky darkened, and the castle became filled with shadows.
Emily wanted a lamp, but she was too frightened to cross the halls where so many horrors had occurred.
Darkness made her fears stronger.
She imagined enemies entering through hidden passages and remembered the mysterious person in the nearby room.
She wondered whether that unknown prisoner could leave whenever he wished.
Night completely covered the castle.
Emily finally managed to light her lamp and moved furniture against the staircase door for protection.
Afterward, she had too much time to think.
Her imagination created countless future dangers.
Midnight finally arrived.
The great clock sounded across the castle.
Believing everyone might now be asleep, Emily opened her door.
The corridor was silent.
But suddenly a light appeared on the wall.
Terrified, she rushed back inside and closed the door.
She guessed that Montoni was visiting the mysterious room nearby.
After waiting another half hour, she tried again.
This time the corridor was empty.
She hurried toward the east turret.
The castle seemed endless.
Every sound frightened her.
At last, she reached the staircase.
But there were two possible paths, and she did not know which one to choose.
She selected one at random.
The passage opened into a wide gallery.
Her footsteps echoed loudly.
Suddenly, she heard a voice.
She stopped in terror.
The voice came again.
It sounded like someone in pain.
Emily thought perhaps Madame Montoni was nearby.
She approached a door but hesitated.
What if it was a stranger who would betray her?
Then the voice called:
“Ludovico!”
Emily immediately recognized Annette’s voice.
“Annette!” she cried. “It is I, Emily.”
Annette stopped crying.
“Open the door,” Emily said. “No one will hurt you.”
“Ludovico! Oh, Ludovico!” Annette cried again.
Emily almost lost patience, but she remembered that Annette might know something about Madame Montoni.
Finally, Annette explained.
Ludovico had locked her inside for protection during the fighting.
“He said he would return when everything was quiet,” Annette said. “But he never came back. They must have killed him!”
Emily remembered the wounded man she had seen earlier and suspected that it might have been Ludovico, but she kept silent.
Instead, she comforted Annette and asked for directions to the east turret.
“Please do not leave me!” Annette begged. “I cannot stay here alone!”
“I must find my aunt,” Emily replied. “Tell me the way. I will help you in the morning.”
After much hesitation, Annette gave her directions.
Emily continued alone.
Finally, she reached the steep staircase of the east turret.
A cold wind struck her face as she opened a door leading outside.
Beyond the rampart, she saw only dark walls and heavy clouds covering the stars.
A distant footstep reminded her that guards might see her.
She quickly closed the door and continued upward.
The silence frightened her.
“This place feels like death,” she whispered.
She imagined finding her aunt murdered.
The thought nearly stopped her.
But duty forced her onward.
Then she saw it.
A dark stain on the stairs.
Blood.
The walls and several steps were marked with it.
Emily trembled.
Still, she continued upward.
She reached another door.
Inside was an empty room.
In the darkness, she saw something lying in a corner.
Her heart nearly stopped.
She rushed forward.
But it was only an old soldier’s uniform lying over a pile of weapons.
Relief flooded through her.
Her aunt was not there.
Yet another trail of blood led farther upward.
Emily followed it.
It ended at another locked door.
She called:
“Madame Montoni!”
No answer came.
“She is dead!” Emily cried. “Murdered!”
Weak and terrified, she sat on the stairs.
After some time, she returned to her room.
On the way, she saw Montoni leaving the mysterious chamber nearby.
She hid until he passed.
Then she locked herself inside once more.
Sleep would not come.
All night she imagined the worst.
She tried to convince herself that Madame Montoni had not been taken to the turret.
But remembering Montoni’s threats, his cruelty, and the blood on the stairs, she could not escape the terrible fear that her aunt had been carried there to die.
Only when morning light entered her windows did Emily finally close her eyes.
Exhaustion at last gave her a brief escape from suffering.