'nothing probably upon this subject, but what i see,' said emily.--'well, ma'am, but you shall see it, if you will only step this way to the casement.'--emily could not forbear laughing, and annette looked surprised.perceiving her extreme aptitude to credit the marvellous, emily forbore to mention the subject she had intended, lest it should overcome her with idle terrors, and she began to speak on a lively topic--the regattas of venice.
'aye, ma'amselle, those rowing matches,' said annette, 'and the fine moon-light nights, are all, that are worth seeing in venice.to be sure the moon is brighter than any i ever saw; and then to hear such sweet music, too, as ludovico has often and often sung under the lattice by the west portico! ma'amselle, it was ludovico, that told me about that picture, which you wanted so to look at last night, and---'
'what picture?' said emily, wishing annette to explain herself.
'o! that terrible picture with the black veil over it.'
'you never saw it, then?' said emily.
'who, i!--no, ma'amselle, i never did.but this morning,' continued annette, lowering her voice, and looking round the room, 'this morning, as it was broad daylight, do you know, ma'am, i took a strange fancy to see it, as i had heard such odd hints about it, and i got as far as the door, and should have opened it, if it had not been locked!'
emily, endeavouring to conceal the emotion this circumstance occasioned, enquired at what hour she went to the chamber, and found, that it was soon after herself had been there.she also asked further questions, and the answers convinced her, that annette, and probably her informer, were ignorant of the terrible truth, though in annette's account something very like the truth, now and then, mingled with the falsehood.emily now began to fear, that her visit to the chamber had been observed, since the door had been closed, so immediately after her departure; and dreaded lest this should draw upon her the vengeance of montoni.her anxiety, also, was excited to know whence, and for what purpose, the delusive report, which had been imposed upon annette, had originated, since montoni could only have wished for silence and secrecy; but she felt, that the subject was too terrible for this lonely hour, and she compelled herself to leave it, to converse with annette, whose chat, simple as it was, she preferred to the stillness of total solitude.