The next day, Montoni sent another excuse to Emily, saying that he could not see her.
Emily was surprised.
“This is very strange,” she thought. “He already knows what I want to ask. His conscience must trouble him, and he is delaying the meeting because he wants to avoid explaining himself.”
She almost decided to find him herself and force a conversation. But fear stopped her. The day passed just like the one before, with Emily remaining in her room. The only difference was that she now carried a terrible expectation of what might happen during the coming night.
In the evening, the second group of soldiers who had gone into the mountains returned to the castle.
From her distant chamber, Emily heard their loud cheers and wild songs as they entered the courtyard. The sounds reminded her of demons celebrating after some horrible sacrifice.
She became frightened.
“Could they have done something cruel?” she wondered.
But Annette soon explained the truth.
“They are only celebrating the treasures they brought back,” she said.
This information only strengthened Emily’s suspicion that Montoni had truly become the leader of a band of robbers.
She thought about everything around her.
The castle stood deep among lonely mountains, protected by strong walls and almost impossible to attack. Nearby towns and cities lay along the distant roads, where wealthy travelers frequently passed.
It seemed like the perfect place for someone who wished to steal from others.
Montoni’s personality also seemed suited to such a life. He was proud, fearless, harsh, and willing to take risks. He enjoyed conflict and excitement. He seemed to have no sympathy for suffering and no fear of danger.
Yet his courage was not the kind that came from honor or a desire to protect the weak.
It was simply a fierce, natural toughness—a hardness that allowed him to feel nothing and therefore fear nothing.
However, Emily’s conclusion was only partly correct.
She did not understand the unusual condition of Italy during that period.
At that time, many Italian states were too poor to maintain permanent armies. Because wars happened frequently, a strange group of professional soldiers appeared.
When wars ended, many soldiers refused to return to ordinary peaceful occupations. Some joined armies in other countries. Others formed groups of armed men and occupied remote castles, where weak governments often failed to control them.
Sometimes these soldiers followed powerful leaders who hired them to fight for different states.
These men became known as Condottieri, a name that became feared throughout Italy.
Wars between the smaller states were often decided not by careful planning but by personal bravery. Generals and soldiers were valued for courage, secrecy, and their ability to attack suddenly.
The Condottieri were especially skilled at such warfare. Because victory often brought them opportunities for plunder, their characters became a mixture of bravery and lawlessness.
When they were not fighting, they usually stayed in their own castles or nearby areas. Though local people sometimes suffered from their demands, they also benefited when the soldiers spent their wealth among them.
Neighboring governments often claimed they wanted to destroy these military groups, but they rarely acted strongly against them. These governments knew that such men could later be useful during wars.
Montoni had met many of these soldiers during his time in Venice and Padua. Their lifestyle had impressed him, and before his own financial troubles became serious, he had already dreamed of living like them.
The secret meetings held at his mansion in Venice had been to plan this new way of life. Orsino and several others who now surrounded him had helped create those plans.
When night returned, Emily again sat beside her window.
This time, there was a moon.
As it rose above the dark woods, its pale yellow light revealed the terrace and the surrounding landscape more clearly than the faint light of the stars had before.
Emily hoped the moon would help her discover the mysterious figure if it returned.
She still struggled with herself.
Should she speak to the figure?
Something inside her strongly urged her to do so.
But fear held her back.
“If this person is planning some attack on the castle,” she thought, “my curiosity could destroy me. Yet the strange music and the sorrowful cries I heard must have come from him. If that is true, perhaps he is not an enemy.”
Then she thought of her unfortunate aunt.
A wave of horror and grief overwhelmed her. Her imagination became so powerful that she almost believed the figure must be something supernatural.
She trembled.
Her breathing became difficult.
A cold feeling spread across her face.
For a moment, fear completely defeated reason.
She lost her courage and decided that if the figure appeared again, she would not speak.
So she remained at the window, surrounded by silence and darkness.
She saw only the mountains, the woods, the towers of the castle, and the empty terrace below.
The only sounds were the occasional calls of the guards and the footsteps of soldiers changing shifts.
By the moonlight, she could see their weapons shining as they walked along the walls.
Whenever they passed beneath her window, Emily stepped back into the darkness.
Later, when she returned to the window, everything was quiet again.
It was very late.
She was exhausted from waiting and began to wonder whether the figure she had seen before had only been a creation of her imagination.
But sleep was impossible.
She remained there for a long time.
Finally, tired and disappointed, she left the window.
Still, the mysterious music, the strange cries, and the figure she believed she had seen left such a powerful impression on her that she decided to watch again the following night.
The next day, Montoni still ignored Emily’s planned visit.
More anxious than ever, she sent Annette to ask when he would receive her.
“Eleven o’clock,” Montoni replied.
Emily arrived exactly on time.
She gathered all her courage before entering, knowing she would have to face the man connected with so many terrible memories.
Montoni was in the cedar room with several of his officers.
When Emily saw them, she stopped.
Her nervousness increased as Montoni continued speaking with the men, pretending not to notice her.
Finally, some of the officers turned and saw her.
They exclaimed in surprise.
Emily immediately began to leave.
But Montoni’s voice stopped her.
“I wish to speak with you, Signor Montoni, if you are free,” she said in a trembling voice.
“These are my friends,” he replied coldly. “Whatever you have to say, they may hear.”
Emily refused to speak before them.
She turned away from the rude attention of the men.
Montoni followed her into the hall and brought her into a small room, then shut the door sharply.
As Emily looked at his dark face, she again imagined that she was seeing the man responsible for her aunt’s death.
Her mind was filled with horror.
She could hardly think.
She could not bring herself to mention Madame Montoni.
After a moment, Montoni became impatient.
“What do you want to say?” he asked. “I have no time for meaningless conversations.”
Emily forced herself to speak.
“I wish to return to France,” she said. “I have come to ask your permission.”
Montoni looked surprised.
“Why?”
Emily hesitated.
Her face became pale.
She trembled so much that she nearly collapsed.
Montoni watched her without emotion.
“I must leave,” he said.
But Emily gathered her strength again.
“I ask you once more,” she said.
Montoni refused.
Something inside Emily finally awakened.
“I cannot remain here any longer, sir,” she said firmly. “May I ask what right you have to keep me here?”
“It is my wish that you remain,” Montoni replied, placing his hand on the door. “That should be enough.”
Emily knew she had no power against him.
Still, she tried to appeal to his sense of justice.
“When my aunt was alive, my staying here was not improper,” she said softly. “But now that she is gone, surely I may leave. My presence here cannot help you, and it only causes me suffering.”
“Who told you Madame Montoni was dead?” Montoni asked suddenly.
Emily froze.
No one had told her.
She could not admit that she had entered the chamber and seen what she believed was a corpse.
“Who told you?” he demanded again.
“I know it too well,” Emily answered. “Please do not force me to speak of this terrible matter.”
She sat down weakly.
“If you wish to see her,” Montoni said, “you may. She is lying in the east tower.”
He left immediately.
Emily remained stunned.
Montoni returned to the cedar room, where some officers joked about the discovery that he had a young niece.
But he did not share their amusement.
Soon the conversation changed.
Later, Montoni discussed plans for a future expedition with Orsino.
Orsino advised him to wait and secretly attack their enemies.
Verezzi strongly disagreed.
“You lack courage,” he said to Orsino. “If Montoni gave me fifty men, I would defeat anyone who stood against us.”
Orsino smiled coldly.
Montoni smiled too, but he listened carefully.
Verezzi continued passionately until Orsino finally found an argument against him.
But Verezzi only responded with insults.
He hated Orsino’s careful and secretive nature.
Orsino’s face became pale with anger.
Montoni noticed his hand quickly move toward his chest.
He knew what Orsino intended.
But Verezzi did not see.
A moment later, Orsino stepped behind him and pulled out a dagger.
He was about to stab Verezzi in the back.
Montoni immediately grabbed his arm.
With a warning look, he forced Orsino to hide the dagger again.
No one else noticed.
When Verezzi turned around, he saw the hatred in Orsino’s eyes and finally suspected the danger.
He placed his hand on his sword.
Then he controlled himself and approached Montoni.
“We are not a group of murderers,” he said, looking at Orsino. “If you need brave men, send me. I will give my last drop of blood. But if you only need cowards, keep him.”
He pointed toward Orsino.
“Let me leave Udolpho.”
Orsino became furious.
Again he pulled out his dagger.
Verezzi drew his sword.
The others rushed between them and separated them.
“This is the behavior of a child, not a man,” Montoni said to Verezzi. “Control your words.”
“Moderation is the virtue of cowards,” Verezzi replied. “They are moderate in everything except fear.”
Montoni turned sharply.
“I accept your words.”
He drew his sword.
“With all my heart!” cried Verezzi. “Though I did not mean them for you.”
They fought.
During the struggle, Orsino again tried to attack Verezzi with his dagger, but once more he was stopped.
Eventually the men separated them.
After a long argument, peace was restored.
Montoni then left with Orsino for a private discussion.
Meanwhile, Emily could think only of one thing.
Madame Montoni was alive.
Montoni’s words about the east tower had pushed everything else from her mind.
She was horrified that her aunt had been left there without care or comfort.
After a long struggle, Emily decided to visit her.
She returned to her room and waited for Annette.
When Annette arrived, Emily explained what she intended to do.
Annette tried to stop her.
But Emily would not change her decision.
Finally, Annette agreed to accompany her—but she refused to enter the room where death might be waiting.
Together they walked through the corridor.
When they reached the stairs leading to the tower, Annette stopped.
“I cannot go any farther,” she said.
Emily continued alone.
When she saw the trail of blood on the stairs, her courage almost disappeared.
She had to stop and rest.
For a moment, she considered turning back.
But after a short pause, she continued upward.
As she approached the upper room, she remembered that the door had once been locked.
She feared it would still be closed.
But she was wrong.
The door opened easily.
Inside was a dark, silent room.
Emily looked around fearfully and slowly entered.
Suddenly, a weak voice spoke.
Emily could neither move nor answer.
The voice came again.
This time she thought it sounded like Madame Montoni.
Her strength returned.
She rushed across the room to a bed hidden in the corner and pulled back the curtains.
A pale, thin face appeared before her.
Emily stepped back in shock.
Then she moved closer again.
She touched the skeleton-like hand lying on the blanket.
It was cold.
She dropped it immediately.
The face before her was Madame Montoni’s.
But illness had changed her so greatly that Emily could barely recognize her.
She was still alive.
Slowly, Madame Montoni opened her eyes.
“Where have you been so long?” she whispered. “I thought you had abandoned me.”
“Are you truly alive?” Emily cried. “Or are you only a terrible ghost?”
There was no answer.
Emily grabbed her aunt’s hand again.
“This is real,” she said desperately. “But it is cold—cold like marble!”
“Please speak,” she begged. “Tell me you know me.”
“I am alive,” Madame Montoni replied weakly. “But I feel that I am going to die.”
Emily held her hand tightly.
They remained silent for a while.
Then Emily asked what had caused her terrible condition.
Montoni had moved his wife to the tower because he suspected she had attempted to murder him.
He ordered the servants and soldiers involved to keep the matter secret.
He wanted to prevent Emily from visiting her and also wanted the chance to punish his wife privately if his suspicions were confirmed.
Because Montoni knew he was hated, he easily believed she might have plotted against him.
Although there was no proof against her, he continued to imprison her.
Without pity, he allowed her to suffer alone with a severe fever until she became dangerously weak.
The blood Emily had seen on the stairs had not belonged to Madame Montoni.
It had come from one of the men who carried her to the tower. He had been wounded during the fighting.
After securing the door, the guards had left for the night.
That was why Emily had found the tower silent and empty.
When she had called at the door before, Madame Montoni had been asleep.
Her silence had made Emily believe she was dead.
The body Emily later saw in the entrance chamber was a wounded man who had died after the fight.
His body had been moved through the same passage where Emily and Barnardine had gone.
After asking her aunt countless questions, Emily left and went to find Montoni.
Her love and concern for Madame Montoni were now stronger than her fear of him.
“Madame Montoni is dying,” Emily said when she found him. “Surely your anger will not follow her until her final moment. Please allow her to leave that terrible room and receive proper care.”
“What difference will that make if she is dying?” Montoni asked coldly.
“At least it may save you from some regret when you face the same moment yourself,” Emily replied angrily.
Montoni immediately ordered her to leave.
But Emily forgot her anger.
She thought only of her suffering aunt.
She begged him again and again.
For a long time, Montoni refused.
But finally, seeing the compassion in Emily’s eyes, he turned away.
He seemed ashamed of his own feelings.
At last, he agreed.
Madame Montoni could return to her own room, and Emily could care for her.
Emily did not waste a moment.
With Annette’s help, she prepared the room and brought medicine to strengthen her aunt before the move.
Almost immediately after Madame Montoni arrived, Montoni sent another order saying she must return to the tower.
But Emily quickly informed him that another move would kill her.
Montoni allowed her to remain.
For the rest of the day, Emily never left her aunt except to prepare food and medicine.
Madame Montoni accepted her care quietly.
She seemed to know that nothing could prevent her approaching death.
That night, Emily wanted to stay beside her.
But Madame Montoni refused.
“Go and rest,” she ordered.
Annette remained with her.
After midnight, Emily finally said good night and returned to her room.
Her heart was heavy.
She could hardly imagine her aunt recovering.
Her own situation also seemed hopeless.
She was trapped in a distant castle, far from anyone who might help her, and completely under the control of a man capable of terrible actions.
Unable to sleep, she leaned against the open window.
The peaceful mountains and forests under the moonlight seemed painfully different from the sadness inside her heart.
Slowly, the quiet beauty of the night softened her emotions.
She began to cry.
For a long time, she forgot everything except her sorrow.
Then she lifted her eyes.
On the terrace below stood the mysterious figure she had seen before.
It was directly beneath her window.
Emily stepped back in fear.
But curiosity soon returned.
She looked again.
The figure was still there.
The moonlight was bright, yet her troubled mind made it impossible to see the figure clearly.
It did not move.
She almost wondered whether it was alive at all.
Then the figure moved.
It lifted an arm and seemed to wave toward her.
It repeated the motion.
Emily tried to speak.
But no words came.
She stepped away from the window to move her lamp.
At that moment, she heard a faint groan from outside.
She listened.
The sound came again.
“Good heavens! What can this mean?” she whispered.
After a long silence, she gathered courage and returned to the window.
The figure was still there.
Again it waved.
Again she heard the strange sound.
“That groan was surely human,” Emily said. “I will speak.”
“Who is it,” she called weakly, “wandering here at such a late hour?”
The figure suddenly raised its head.
Then it turned and moved quickly away.
Emily watched it glide across the terrace.
She heard no footsteps.
Only when a guard approached from the other side of the wall did she hear movement.
The soldier stopped beneath her window.
“Emily!” he called.
She was about to retreat, but his second call forced her to answer.
“Did you see anything pass?” he asked respectfully.
“Yes,” she replied.
The soldier said nothing more and walked away.
Emily watched him carefully.
Because he was on guard, she knew he could not leave the walls.
She decided to wait for his return.
Soon she heard his voice calling in the distance.
Another voice answered.
Then the password was passed along the terrace.
The soldiers hurried beneath her window.
Emily called to ask what had happened.
They ignored her.
Her thoughts returned to the mysterious figure.
“It cannot be someone planning to attack the castle,” she thought. “Such a person would not stand openly beneath a window. He would not call attention to himself or make sounds of sorrow.”
“But it cannot be a prisoner either. How could a prisoner wander freely?”
If Emily had been vain, she might have imagined that someone in the castle admired her and came secretly hoping to see her.
But such a thought never entered her mind.
And even if it had, she would have rejected it.
The figure had the chance to speak but remained silent.
When Emily finally spoke, it immediately fled.
While she was thinking, two guards walked along the wall talking seriously.
Emily heard that one of their companions had collapsed.
Soon three soldiers appeared below.
One of them seemed to be supported by the others.
Emily called down.
“What happened?”
The soldiers stopped.
“Roberto had a sudden fit,” they explained. “His cry caused the alarm.”
“Does he often suffer from these attacks?” Emily asked.
“Yes, Signora,” Roberto replied. “But even if I had not been ill, what I saw would have frightened anyone—even the Pope himself.”
“What did you see?” Emily asked nervously.
“I cannot explain it,” the soldier said. “I do not know what it was or how it disappeared.”
“Was it the figure you followed?” Emily asked.
“Figure?” Roberto cried. “It was the devil himself!”
His companions laughed.
“It is not the first time I have seen him,” Roberto insisted.
“Nor the last,” another soldier joked.
Sebastian then said:
“You speak bravely now, Roberto, but you were not laughing the other night when Launcelot and I saw him.”
“What man?” Emily asked.
“It was no man,” Launcelot replied. “It was the devil.”
The soldiers explained that a week earlier they had seen the same mysterious figure on the ramparts.
They had been standing guard when suddenly Launcelot noticed something moving near the last cannon.
At first they were unsure.
Then they saw a shadow passing along the castle wall.
They wanted to follow, but the figure moved too quickly and disappeared.
They searched all night but found nothing.
Tonight was the first time they had seen it again.
“Where did you lose sight of it?” Emily asked Roberto.
“When I left you, Signora, I walked down the rampart,” he answered.
“Near the east tower, I saw something moving in the moonlight.”
“I turned the corner, and the figure disappeared.”
“I stood there looking through the old archway when suddenly I heard a terrible sound.”
“It was not a cry, not a scream, not a shout.”
“I have never heard anything like it.”
“I heard it only once.”
“That was enough.”
“I remember nothing after that until I found my companions around me.”
Sebastian looked toward the sky.
“The moon is setting. We must return to our posts.”
“Good night, lady.”
“Good night,” Roberto added.
“Good night,” Emily replied. “May the holy mother protect you.”
She closed the window and returned to her room.
But the strange events of the night remained in her mind.
She tried to connect them with everything she had seen before.
She wanted a clear explanation.
Instead, her imagination grew stronger while her reason grew weaker.
Once again, fear and superstition filled her thoughts.