an hour than at any other, and that heart must be insensible
in a great degree, that does not soften to its influence. But many such
there are.'

Valancourt sighed.

'Are there, indeed, many such?' said Emily.

'A few years hence, my Emily,' replied St. Aubert, 'and you may smile at
the recollection of that question--if you do not weep to it. But come, I
am somewhat refreshed, let us proceed.'

Having emerged from the woods, they saw, upon a turfy hillock above, the
convent of which they were in search. A high wall, that surrounded it,
led them to an ancient gate, at which they knocked; and the poor monk,
who opened it, conducted them into a small adjoining room, where he
desired they would wait while he informed the superior of their request.
In this interval, several friars came in separately to look at them;
and at length the first monk returned, and they followed him to a room,
where the superior was sitting in an arm-chair, with a large folio
volume, printed in black letter, open on a desk before him. He received
them with courtesy, though he did not rise from his seat; and, having
asked them a few questions, granted their request. After a short
conversation, formal and solemn on the part of the superior, they
withdrew to the apartment where they were to sup, and Valancourt, whom
one of the inferior friars civilly desired to accompany, went to seek
Michael and his mules. They had not descended half way down the cliffs,
before they heard the voice of the muleteer echoing far and wide.
Sometimes he called on St. Aubert, and sometimes on Valancourt; who
having, at length, convinced him that he had nothing to fear either for
himself, or his master; and having disposed of him, for the night, in a
cottage on the skirts of the woods, returned to sup with his friends,
on such sober fare as the monks thought it prudent to set before them.
While St. Aubert was too much indisposed to share it, Emily, in her
anxiety for her father, forgot herself; and Valancourt, silent and
thoughtful, yet never inattentive to them, appeared particularly
solicitous to accommodate and relieve St. Aubert, who often observed,
while his daughter was pressing him to eat, or adjusting the pillow she
had placed in the back of his arm-chair, that Valancourt fixed on her a
look of pensive tenderness, which he was not displeased to understand.

They separated at an early hour, and retired to their respective
apartments. Emily was shown to hers by