might we but hear the folded flocks penn'd in their watled cotes, or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops, or whistle from the lodge, or village cock count the night watches to his feathery dames, 'twould be some solace yet, some little cheering in this close dungeon of innumerous boughs.
milton
in the morning, emily was relieved from her fears for annette, who came at an early hour.
'here were fine doings in the castle, last night, ma'amselle,' said she, as soon as she entered the room,--'fine doings, indeed! was you not frightened, ma'amselle, at not seeing me?'
'i was alarmed both on your account and on my own,' replied emily--'what detained you?'
'aye, i said so, i told him so; but it would not do.it was not my fault, indeed, ma'amselle, for i could not get out.that rogue ludovico locked me up again.'
'locked you up!' said emily, with displeasure, 'why do you permit ludovico to lock you up?'
'holy saints!' exclaimed annette, 'how can i help it! if he will lock the door, ma'amselle, and take away the key, how am i to get out, unless i jump through the window? but that i should not mind so much, if the casements here were not all so high; one can hardly scramble up to them on the inside, and one should break one's neck, isuppose, going down on the outside.but you know, i dare say, ma'am, what a hurly-burly the castle was in, last night; you must have heard some of the uproar.'
'what, were they disputing, then?' said emily.
'no, ma'amselle, nor fighting, but almost as good, for i believe there was not one of the signors sober; and what is more, not one of those fine ladies sober, either.i thought, when i saw them first, that all those fine silks and fine veils,--why, ma'amselle, their veils were worked with silver! and fine trimmings--boded no good--iguessed what they were!'
'good god!' exclaimed emily, 'what will become of me!'
'aye, ma'am, ludovico said much the same thing of me.good god! said he, annette, what is to become of you, if you are to go running about the castle among all these drunken signors?'