The next morning, Emily was finally relieved from her anxiety about Annette when the girl appeared early at her door.
“Such things happened in the castle last night, ma’amselle!” Annette exclaimed as soon as she entered. “Such things! Were you not frightened when you did not see me?”
“I was frightened both for you and for myself,” Emily replied. “What kept you away?”
“I told him so. I said I must come to you. But it was no use. It was not my fault, ma’amselle. I simply could not get out. That troublesome Ludovico locked me in again.”
“Locked you in?” Emily said, displeased. “Why do you allow Ludovico to do such a thing?”
“Holy Saints! What could I do?” Annette cried. “If he locks the door and takes away the key, how am I supposed to escape? Must I jump out of the window? I would not mind that so much if these windows were not so terribly high. I can hardly climb up from inside, and if I jumped down from outside, I would certainly break my neck.”
She paused, then continued eagerly.
“But you must know, ma’amselle, what a terrible night it was in the castle. You must have heard the noise.”
“What happened? Were they fighting?” Emily asked.
“No, ma’amselle, not fighting. Something almost as bad. I do not believe there was a single Signor who was sober. And what is more, none of those fine ladies were sober either.”
“Fine ladies?” Emily repeated.
“Yes, ma’amselle. When I first saw them, with all their beautiful silk dresses and those expensive veils—why, their veils were even decorated with silver—I knew something was wrong. I knew they could not bring anything good.”
“Good heavens!” Emily cried. “What will become of me?”
“Ludovico said exactly the same thing about me,” Annette replied. “He said, ‘Good heavens, Annette, what will happen to you if you run through the castle among all these drunken nobles?’”
“And what did you say?” Emily asked.
“I told him, ‘I only want to reach my young lady’s room. I know the way perfectly. I must go through the underground passage, cross the great hall, climb the marble staircase, pass along the north gallery, go through the west wing, and then I will be there in no time.’”
“‘Is that so?’ Ludovico said. ‘And what will happen if you meet one of those noble gentlemen on the way?’”
“‘Then come with me and protect me,’ I said. ‘I am never afraid when you are near me.’”
“‘What?’ he said. ‘I have barely recovered from one injury, and you want me to walk into another? If one of those gentlemen sees you, he will immediately challenge me to a fight.’”
“‘Then what should I do?’ I asked.”
“‘Stay here,’ he said. ‘I will not let you leave this room tonight.’”
“And so he locked you up?” Emily interrupted impatiently, eager to ask about another matter.
“Yes, indeed, ma’amselle. No matter how much I argued, he would not change his mind. Caterina, Ludovico, and I stayed there all night.”
Annette laughed as she remembered the events.
“After a while, I was not so angry anymore. A little later, Signor Verezzi came stumbling through the passage, shouting like a wild animal. He mistook Ludovico’s room for old Carlo’s, tried to break open the door, and demanded more wine because he had already emptied every bottle he had.”
“What did you do?” Emily asked.
“We were all silent, hoping he would believe nobody was inside. But that Signor was clever even when drunk. He stood outside the door and shouted, ‘Come out, my ancient hero! There is no enemy waiting outside. Come forth, brave steward!’”
“Then old Carlo opened his own door. He came out holding a flask of wine, and the moment Signor Verezzi saw him, he became as gentle as a dog following a butcher carrying meat. He followed Carlo away immediately.”
Annette laughed again.
“I saw everything through the keyhole. ‘Well, Annette,’ Ludovico said, teasing me, ‘shall I let you out now?’”
“I have something else to ask you,” Emily interrupted. “Do you know whether there are any prisoners in the castle? And are they kept somewhere near this part of the building?”
“I do not know, ma’amselle,” Annette replied. “I was not here when the first group returned from the mountains, and the last group has not yet come back. So I cannot say whether there are prisoners. They are expected tonight or tomorrow, and perhaps then I shall know.”
Emily looked thoughtful.
“Have you ever heard the servants speaking about prisoners?”
Annette gave her a knowing look.
“Ah, ma’amselle! I suppose you are thinking about Monsieur Valancourt. Perhaps he has joined the soldiers who came from your country to fight against this state, and perhaps he has met our people and been captured.”
She smiled.
“Oh, how happy I would be if that were true!”
“Would you truly be happy?” Emily asked sadly.
“Of course I would,” Annette answered. “And would you not be happy too, to see Signor Valancourt again? I do not know any gentleman I like better. I have great respect for him.”
“Your affection for him is clear,” Emily said quietly, “since you wish to see him as a prisoner.”
“No, no, ma’amselle, not as a prisoner exactly. I only mean I would be happy to see him. And just the other night I dreamed of him. I dreamed he rode into the castle courtyard in a grand carriage drawn by six horses. He wore a beautiful embroidered coat and carried a sword like a great nobleman.”
Emily could not help smiling at Annette’s imagination.
“Tell me again,” she said, “have you heard anyone speak of prisoners?”
“No, ma’amselle,” Annette replied. “Never. Recently, they have spoken of nothing except the ghost that walks along the castle walls at night and frightens the guards.”
“A ghost?”
“Yes! They say it appeared among them like a flash of fire. The soldiers fell down one after another in terror. When they recovered, the figure had disappeared, and only the old castle walls remained. They helped each other stand up again as quickly as they could.”
Annette leaned closer.
“You would not believe me, ma’amselle, even if I showed you the very cannon where it appeared.”
“And do you truly believe such stories, Annette?” Emily asked, smiling at the exaggeration.
“Believe them? Why, nobody in the world could convince me they are false. Roberto, Sebastian, and several others nearly fainted from fear.”
She shook her head.
“Though I admit they were foolish. I told them so. What will they do when the enemy arrives if they all fall down in terror? The enemy will not politely walk away like the ghost did and wait for them to recover. They will attack them.”
Emily tried to correct Annette’s superstition, although she knew she herself was not completely free from fear of the unknown.
Annette only replied:
“You believe nothing, ma’amselle. You are almost as bad as the Signor himself. He became furious when they told him about the ghost. He said the first man who repeated such nonsense would be thrown into the dungeon beneath the east tower.”
Emily frowned and said nothing.
Her thoughts returned to the strange figure she had seen near her window. She remembered how it had appeared opposite her chamber and wondered whether it could have been Valancourt.
But if it was truly him, why had he not spoken to her?
And if he was a prisoner in Udolpho, how could he possibly walk freely upon the castle walls?
Her mind could find no answer.
Still, she asked Annette to secretly discover whether any prisoners were being held in the castle and, if possible, learn their names.
“O dear, ma’amselle!” Annette suddenly remembered. “I forgot to tell you what you asked me about—the ladies who recently arrived at Udolpho.”
She lowered her voice.
“That Signora Livona, whom the Signor once brought to see your late aunt in Venice, is now his mistress. Ludovico says—and please keep this secret—that His Excellency only introduced her to your aunt to make people stop speaking badly about her reputation.”
“And the other two women?” Emily asked.
“They belong to Signor Verezzi and Signor Bertolini. Signor Montoni invited them all here. Yesterday he gave a great celebration. They drank wine, laughed, and sang until the whole castle echoed with their voices.”
Annette’s expression became sad.
“But I thought those sounds were terrible, coming so soon after your poor aunt’s death. I kept thinking what she would have felt if she had heard them. But she cannot hear anything now.”
Emily turned away to hide her emotion.
“Go, Annette,” she said softly. “Find out what you can about the prisoners. But be careful. Do not mention my name or Monsieur Valancourt’s.”
Annette nodded and prepared to leave.
Then she stopped.
“Now that I think of it, ma’amselle, I believe there may truly be prisoners here. Yesterday in the servants’ hall I overheard one of the Signor’s men speaking about ransoms. He said it was a wonderful thing for His Excellency to capture men because prisoners were valuable—they could bring money.”
“What did the other man say?”
“He complained that it was good for the Signor, but not for the soldiers, because they did not receive any share of the reward.”
This information increased Emily’s desire to know the truth. Annette immediately left to make her enquiries.
Emily’s former decision to surrender her estates to Montoni now weakened. The possibility that Valancourt might be near her gave her new courage. She resolved to resist Montoni’s demands until she knew whether Valancourt was truly inside the castle.
It was in this state of mind that she received a message from Montoni ordering her presence in the cedar room.
With trembling steps, she obeyed.
She tried to strengthen herself by thinking of Valancourt as she walked toward him.
Montoni was alone.
“I sent for you,” he said coldly, “to give you another chance to withdraw your foolish claims concerning the Languedoc estates.”
He paused.
“I will offer advice where I could simply command.”
“If you are truly deceived into believing you have any right to these lands, do not continue this mistake. One day you may realize too late that this error has destroyed you.”
“Sign the papers.”
Emily looked directly at him.
“If I have no legal right to these estates, sir, why should my signature matter to you? If the law already makes them yours, you need neither my agreement nor my permission.”
“I will hear no more arguments,” Montoni replied.
“What trouble I created for myself by lowering myself to reason with a child. Your aunt’s suffering should have taught you a lesson. Her stubbornness brought misery upon her.”
His eyes hardened.
“Sign the papers.”
Emily felt her courage weaken for a moment as she remembered Madame Montoni’s suffering.
But then the thought of Valancourt returned to her heart. Along with her lifelong hatred of injustice, it gave her strength.
“Sign the papers,” Montoni repeated.
“Never,” Emily answered.
“Your demand alone proves that your claim is unjust, even if I did not already know my own rights.”
Montoni’s face became pale with anger.
His trembling lips and threatening eyes made Emily almost regret her boldness.
“Then you shall feel all my revenge,” he said fiercely. “Do not imagine it will be delayed. Neither the estates in Languedoc nor those in Gascony shall ever belong to you.”
He stepped closer.
“You have dared to question my right. Now dare to question my power.”
His voice lowered.
“I have a punishment prepared for you. A punishment you cannot imagine. It is terrible.”
He paused.
“This very night—”
“This night?” another voice suddenly repeated.
Montoni turned sharply.
For a moment, he seemed disturbed, but quickly recovered.
He continued in a lower voice.
“You have already seen one terrible example of what happens to those who oppose me. Yet it seems that was not enough to frighten you.”
A strange groan rose from beneath the room.
Montoni stopped.
His eyes flashed with anger, but something like fear crossed his face.
Emily, overwhelmed by everything she had endured, sank into a chair near the door.
Montoni ignored the sound.
“I could tell you of other examples,” he said. “I could make you tremble merely by describing them.”
Another deep groan interrupted him.
“Leave this room immediately!” he ordered.
Emily tried to stand, but fear and exhaustion overcame her.
She sank back into the chair.
“Leave my presence!” Montoni shouted. “This display of fear does not suit the woman who just dared to challenge me.”
“Did you hear nothing, Signor?” Emily whispered.
“I heard my own voice,” he replied coldly.
“And nothing else?”
Emily trembled.
“There again! Do you hear nothing now?”
“Obey me,” Montoni said.
He turned away.
“As for these foolish tricks, I will soon discover who is responsible.”
Emily forced herself to rise and leave.
Montoni followed her, but instead of calling servants to search the room as he had done before, he walked toward the ramparts.
As Emily returned to her chamber, she looked from an open window and saw a group of soldiers descending from a distant mountain path.
The sight reminded her of the prisoners they might be bringing back to Udolpho.
When she reached her room, she collapsed onto the couch, overwhelmed by the horrors surrounding her.
Her thoughts were confused. She could neither regret nor approve of her actions.
She only knew one thing:
She was in the power of a man who followed no law except his own will.
And the strange fears caused by superstition, which had once troubled her so deeply, now gave way to a more terrible fear based on reason.