["[Event happened on 2024-01-01 The user is reading a book]\n<User> CHAPTER VIII\n\n\n\n My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say. I play the torturer, by small and small,\n To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken. RICHARD II\n\nWe now return, for a moment, to Venice, where Count Morano was suffering\nunder an accumulation of misfortunes. Soon after his arrival in that\ncity, he had been arrested by order of the Senate, and, without knowing\nof what he was suspected, was conveyed to a place of confinement,\nwhither the most strenuous enquiries of his friends had been unable to\ntrace him. Who the enemy was, that had occasioned him this calamity, he\nhad not been able to guess, unless, indeed, it was Montoni, on whom his\nsuspicions rested, and not only with much apparent probability, but with\njustice. In the affair of the poisoned cup, Montoni had suspected Morano; but,\nbeing unable to obtain the degree of proof, which was necessary to\nconvict him of a guilty intention, he had recourse to means of other\nrevenge, than he could hope to obtain by prosecution. He employed\na person, in whom he believed he might confide, to drop a letter of\naccusation into the DENUNZIE SECRETE, or lions' mouths, which are\nfixed in a gallery of the Doge's palace, as receptacles for anonymous\ninformation, concerning persons, who may be disaffected towards the\nstate. As, on these occasions, the accuser is not confronted with the\naccused, a man may falsely impeach his enemy, and accomplish an unjust\nrevenge, without fear of punishment, or detection. That Montoni should\nhave recourse to these diabolical means of ruining a person, whom he\nsuspected of having attempted his life, is not in the least surprising. In the letter, which he had employed as the instrument of his revenge,\nhe accused Morano of designs against the state, which he attempted to\nprove, with all the plausible simplicity of which he was master; and\nthe Senate, with whom a suspicion was, at that time, almost equal to\na proof, arrested the Count, in consequence of this accusation; and,\nwithout even hinting to him his crime, threw him into one of those\nsecret prisons, which were the terror of the Venetians, and in which\npersons often languished, and sometimes died, without being discovered\nby their friends. Morano had incurred the personal resentment of many members of the\nstate; his habits of life had rendered him obnoxious to some; and his\nambition, and the bold rivalship, which he discovered, on several public\noccasions,--to others; and it was not to be expected, that mercy would\nsoften the rigour of a law, which was to be dispensed from the hands of\nhis enemies. Montoni, meantime, was beset by dangers of another kind. His castle\nwas besieged by troops, who seemed willing to dare every thing, and to\nsuffer patiently any hardships in pursuit of victory. The strength\nof the fortress, however, withstood their attack, and this, with the\nvigorous defence of the garrison and the scarcity of provision on these\nwild mountains, soon compelled the assailants to raise the siege. When Udolpho was once more left to the quiet possession of Montoni,\nhe dispatched Ugo into Tuscany for Emily, whom he had sent from\nconsiderations of her personal safety, to a place of greater security,\nthan a castle, which was, at that time, liable to be overrun by his\nenemies. Tranquillity being once more restored to Udolpho, he was\nimpatient to secure her again under his roof, and had commissioned Ugo\nto assist Bertrand in guarding her back to the castle. Thus compelled to\nreturn, Emily bade the kind Maddelina farewell, with regret, and,\nafter about a fortnight's stay in Tuscany, where she had experienced\nan interval of quiet, which was absolutely necessary to sustain her\nlong-harassed spirits, began once more to ascend the Apennines, from\nwhose heights she gave a long and sorrowful look to the beautiful\ncountry, that extended at their feet, and to the distant Mediterranean,\nwhose waves she had so often wished would bear her back to France. The distress she felt, on her return towards the place of her former\nsufferings, was, however, softened by a conjecture, that Valancourt was\nthere, and she found some degree of comfort in the thought of being near\nhim, notwithstanding the consideration, that he was probably a prisoner. It was noon, when she had left the cottage, and the evening was closed,\nlong before she came within the neighbourhood of Udolpho. There was a\nmoon, but it shone only at intervals, for the night was cloudy, and,\nlighted by the torch, which Ugo carried, the travellers paced silently\nalong, Emily musing on her situation, and Bertrand and Ugo anticipating\nthe comforts of a flask of wine and a good fire, for they had perceived\nfor some time the difference between the warm climate of the lowlands\nof Tuscany and the nipping air of these upper regions. Emily was, at\nlength, roused from her reverie by the far-off sound of the castle\nclock, to which she listened not without some degree of awe, as it\nrolled away on the breeze. Another and another note succeeded, and died\nin sullen murmur among the mountains:--to her mournful imagination it\nseemed a knell measuring out some fateful period for her. 'Aye, there is the old clock,' said Bertrand, 'there he is still; the\ncannon have not silenced him!' 'No,' answered Ugo, 'he crowed as loud as the best of them in the midst\nof it all. There he was roaring out in the hottest fire I have seen this\nmany a day! I said that some of them would have a hit at the old fellow,\nbut he escaped, and the tower too.' The road winding round the base of a mountain, they now came within view\nof the castle, which was shewn in the perspective of the valley by a\ngleam of moon-shine, and then vanished in shade; while even a transient\nview of it had awakened the poignancy of Emily's feelings. Its massy and\ngloomy walls gave her terrible ideas of imprisonment and suffering:\nyet, as she advanced, some degree of hope mingled with her terror; for,\nthough this was certainly the residence of Montoni, it was possibly,\nalso, that of Valancourt, and she could not approach a place, where he\nmight be, without experiencing somewhat of the joy of hope. They continued to wind along the valley, and, soon after, she saw again\nthe old walls and moon-lit towers, rising over the woods: the strong\nrays enabled her, also, to perceive the ravages, which the siege had\nmade,--with the broken walls, and shattered battlements, for they were\nnow at the foot of the steep, on which Udolpho stood. Massy fragments\nhad rolled down among the woods, through which the travellers now began\nto ascend, and there mingled with the loose earth, and pieces of rock\nthey had brought with them. The woods, too, had suffered much from the\nbatteries above, for here the enemy had endeavoured to screen themselves\nfrom the fire of the ramparts. Many noble trees were levelled with the\nground, and others, to a wide extent, were entirely stripped of their\nupper branches. 'We had better dismount,' said Ugo, 'and lead the mules\nup the hill, or we shall get into some of the holes, which the balls\nhave left. Here are plenty of them. Give me the torch,' continued Ugo,\nafter they had dismounted, 'and take care you don't stumble over any\nthing, that lies in your way, for the ground is not yet cleared of the\nenemy.' 'How!' exclaimed Emily, 'are any of the enemy here, then?' 'Nay, I don't know for that, now,' he replied, 'but when I came away I\nsaw one or two of them lying under the trees.' As they proceeded, the torch threw a gloomy light upon the ground, and\nfar among the recesses of the woods, and Emily feared to look forward,\nlest some object of horror should meet her eye. The path was often\nstrewn with broken heads of arrows, and with shattered remains of\narmour, such as at that period was mingled with the lighter dress of the\nsoldiers. 'Bring the light hither,' said Bertrand, 'I have stumbled over\nsomething, that rattles loud enough.' Ugo holding up the torch, they\nperceived a steel breastplate on the ground, which Bertrand raised, and\nthey saw, that it was pierced through, and that the lining was entirely\ncovered with blood; but upon Emily's earnest entreaties, that they would\nproceed, Bertrand, uttering some joke upon the unfortunate person, to\nwhom it had belonged, threw it hard upon the ground, and they passed on. At every step she took, Emily feared to see some vestige of death.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-01, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-02 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Coming soon after to an opening in the woods, Bertrand stopped to survey\nthe ground, which was encumbered with massy trunks and branches of the\ntrees, that had so lately adorned it, and seemed to have been a spot\nparticularly fatal to the besiegers; for it was evident from the\ndestruction of the trees, that here the hottest fire of the garrison\nhad been directed. As Ugo held again forth the torch, steel glittered\nbetween the fallen trees; the ground beneath was covered with broken\narms, and with the torn vestments of soldiers, whose mangled forms\nEmily almost expected to see; and she again entreated her companions to\nproceed, who were, however, too intent in their examination, to regard\nher, and she turned her eyes from this desolated scene to the castle\nabove, where she observed lights gliding along the ramparts. Presently,\nthe castle clock struck twelve, and then a trumpet sounded, of which\nEmily enquired the occasion. 'O! they are only changing watch,' replied Ugo. 'I do not remember\nthis trumpet,' said Emily, 'it is a new custom.' 'It is only an old one\nrevived, lady; we always use it in time of war. We have sounded it, at\nmidnight, ever since the place was besieged.' 'Hark!' said Emily, as the trumpet sounded again; and, in the next\nmoment, she heard a faint clash of arms, and then the watchword passed\nalong the terrace above, and was answered from a distant part of the\ncastle; after which all was again still. She complained of cold, and\nbegged to go on. 'Presently, lady,' said Bertrand, turning over some\nbroken arms with the pike he usually carried. 'What have we here?' 'Hark!' cried Emily, 'what noise was that?' 'What noise was it?' said Ugo, starting up and listening. 'Hush!' repeated Emily. 'It surely came from the ramparts above:' and,\non looking up, they perceived a light moving along the walls, while,\nin the next instant, the breeze swelling, the voice sounded louder than\nbefore. 'Who goes yonder?' cried a sentinel of the castle. 'Speak or it will be\nworse for you.' Bertrand uttered a shout of joy. 'Hah! my brave comrade,\nis it you?' said he, and he blew a shrill whistle, which signal was\nanswered by another from the soldier on watch; and the party, then\npassing forward, soon after emerged from the woods upon the broken road,\nthat led immediately to the castle gates, and Emily saw, with renewed\nterror, the whole of that stupendous structure. 'Alas!' said she to\nherself, 'I am going again into my prison!' 'Here has been warm work, by St. Marco!' cried Bertrand, waving a\ntorch over the ground; 'the balls have torn up the earth here with a\nvengeance.' 'Aye,' replied Ugo, 'they were fired from that redoubt, yonder, and\nrare execution they did. The enemy made a furious attack upon the great\ngates; but they might have guessed they could never carry it there; for,\nbesides the cannon from the walls, our archers, on the two round towers,\nshowered down upon them at such a rate, that, by holy Peter! there was\nno standing it. I never saw a better sight in my life; I laughed,\ntill my sides aked, to see how the knaves scampered. Bertrand, my good\nfellow, thou shouldst have been among them; I warrant thou wouldst have\nwon the race!' 'Hah! you are at your old tricks again,' said Bertrand in a surly tone. 'It is well for thee thou art so near the castle; thou knowest I have\nkilled my man before now.' Ugo replied only by a laugh, and then gave\nsome further account of the siege, to which as Emily listened, she was\nstruck by the strong contrast of the present scene with that which had\nso lately been acted here. The mingled uproar of cannon, drums, and trumpets, the groans of the\nconquered, and the shouts of the conquerors were now sunk into a silence\nso profound, that it seemed as if death had triumphed alike over the\nvanquished and the victor. The shattered condition of one of the towers\nof the great gates by no means confirmed the VALIANT account just given\nby Ugo of the scampering party, who, it was evident, had not only made\na stand, but had done much mischief before they took to flight; for this\ntower appeared, as far as Emily could judge by the dim moon-light\nthat fell upon it, to be laid open, and the battlements were nearly\ndemolished. While she gazed, a light glimmered through one of the lower\nloop-holes, and disappeared; but, in the next moment, she perceived\nthrough the broken wall, a soldier, with a lamp, ascending the narrow\nstaircase, that wound within the tower, and, remembering that it was the\nsame she had passed up, on the night, when Barnardine had deluded her\nwith a promise of seeing Madame Montoni, fancy gave her somewhat of\nthe terror she had then suffered. She was now very near the gates, over\nwhich the soldier having opened the door of the portal-chamber, the lamp\nhe carried gave her a dusky view of that terrible apartment, and she\nalmost sunk under the recollected horrors of the moment, when she had\ndrawn aside the curtain, and discovered the object it was meant to\nconceal. 'Perhaps,' said she to herself, 'it is now used for a similar purpose;\nperhaps, that soldier goes, at this dead hour, to watch over the corpse\nof his friend!' The little remains of her fortitude now gave way to the\nunited force of remembered and anticipated horrors, for the melancholy\nfate of Madame Montoni appeared to foretell her own. She considered,\nthat, though the Languedoc estates, if she relinquished them, would\nsatisfy Montoni's avarice, they might not appease his vengeance, which\nwas seldom pacified but by a terrible sacrifice; and she even thought,\nthat, were she to resign them, the fear of justice might urge him either\nto detain her a prisoner, or to take away her life. They were now arrived at the gates, where Bertrand, observing the light\nglimmer through a small casement of the portal-chamber, called aloud;\nand the soldier, looking out, demanded who was there. 'Here, I have\nbrought you a prisoner,' said Ugo, 'open the gate, and let us in.' 'Tell me first who it is, that demands entrance,' replied the soldier. 'What! my old comrade,' cried Ugo, 'don't you know me? not know Ugo? I\nhave brought home a prisoner here, bound hand and foot--a fellow, who\nhas been drinking Tuscany wine, while we here have been fighting.' 'You will not rest till you meet with your match,' said Bertrand\nsullenly. 'Hah! my comrade, is it you?' said the soldier--'I'll be with\nyou directly.' Emily presently heard his steps descending the stairs within, and then\nthe heavy chain fall, and the bolts undraw of a small postern door,\nwhich he opened to admit the party. He held the lamp low, to shew the\nstep of the gate, and she found herself once more beneath the gloomy\narch, and heard the door close, that seemed to shut her from the world\nfor ever. In the next moment, she was in the first court of the castle,\nwhere she surveyed the spacious and solitary area, with a kind of calm\ndespair; while the dead hour of the night, the gothic gloom of the\nsurrounding buildings, and the hollow and imperfect echoes, which\nthey returned, as Ugo and the soldier conversed together, assisted to\nincrease the melancholy forebodings of her heart. Passing on to the\nsecond court, a distant sound broke feebly on the silence, and gradually\nswelling louder, as they advanced, Emily distinguished voices of revelry\nand laughter, but they were to her far other than sounds of joy. 'Why,\nyou have got some Tuscany wine among you, HERE,' said Bertrand, 'if one\nmay judge by the uproar that is going forward. Ugo has taken a larger\nshare of that than of fighting, I'll be sworn. Who is carousing at this\nlate hour?' 'His excellenza and the Signors,' replied the soldier: 'it is a sign you\nare a stranger at the castle, or you would not need to ask the question. They are brave spirits, that do without sleep--they generally pass the\nnight in good cheer; would that we, who keep the watch, had a little of\nit! It is cold work, pacing the ramparts so many hours of the night, if\none has no good liquor to warm one's heart.' 'Courage, my lad, courage ought to warm your heart,' said Ugo. 'Courage!'\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-02, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-05 The user is reading a book]\n<User> replied the soldier sharply, with a menacing air, which Ugo\nperceiving, prevented his saying more, by returning to the subject of\nthe carousal. 'This is a new custom,' said he; 'when I left the castle,\nthe Signors used to sit up counselling.' 'Aye, and for that matter, carousing too,' replied the soldier, 'but,\nsince the siege, they have done nothing but make merry: and if I was\nthey, I would settle accounts with myself, for all my hard fighting, the\nsame way.' They had now crossed the second court, and reached the hall door, when\nthe soldier, bidding them good night, hastened back to his post; and,\nwhile they waited for admittance, Emily considered how she might avoid\nseeing Montoni, and retire unnoticed to her former apartment, for she\nshrunk from the thought of encountering either him, or any of his party,\nat this hour. The uproar within the castle was now so loud, that, though\nUgo knocked repeatedly at the hall door, he was not heard by any of\nthe servants, a circumstance, which increased Emily's alarm, while it\nallowed her time to deliberate on the means of retiring unobserved; for,\nthough she might, perhaps, pass up the great stair-case unseen, it was\nimpossible she could find the way to her chamber, without a light, the\ndifficulty of procuring which, and the danger of wandering about the\ncastle, without one, immediately struck her. Bertrand had only a torch,\nand she knew, that the servants never brought a taper to the door, for\nthe hall was sufficiently lighted by the large tripod lamp, which hung\nin the vaulted roof; and, while she should wait till Annette could bring\na taper, Montoni, or some of his companions, might discover her. The door was now opened by Carlo; and Emily, having requested him to\nsend Annette immediately with a light to the great gallery, where\nshe determined to await her, passed on with hasty steps towards the\nstair-case; while Bertrand and Ugo, with the torch, followed old Carlo\nto the servants' hall, impatient for supper and the warm blaze of a wood\nfire. Emily, lighted only by the feeble rays, which the lamp above threw\nbetween the arches of this extensive hall, endeavoured to find her way\nto the stair-case, now hid in obscurity; while the shouts of merriment,\nthat burst from a remote apartment, served, by heightening her terror,\nto increase her perplexity, and she expected, every instant, to see\nthe door of that room open, and Montoni and his companions issue forth. Having, at length, reached the stair-case, and found her way to the top,\nshe seated herself on the last stair, to await the arrival of Annette;\nfor the profound darkness of the gallery deterred her from proceeding\nfarther, and, while she listened for her footstep, she heard only\ndistant sounds of revelry, which rose in sullen echoes from among the\narcades below. Once she thought she heard a low sound from the dark\ngallery behind her; and, turning her eyes, fancied she saw something\nluminous move in it; and, since she could not, at this moment, subdue\nthe weakness that caused her fears, she quitted her seat, and crept\nsoftly down a few stairs lower. Annette not yet appearing, Emily now concluded, that she was gone\nto bed, and that nobody chose to call her up; and the prospect, that\npresented itself, of passing the night in darkness, in this place, or\nin some other equally forlorn (for she knew it would be impracticable to\nfind her way through the intricacies of the galleries to her chamber),\ndrew tears of mingled terror and despondency from her eyes. While thus she sat, she fancied she heard again an odd sound from\nthe gallery, and she listened, scarcely daring to breathe, but the\nincreasing voices below overcame every other sound. Soon after, she\nheard Montoni and his companions burst into the hall, who spoke, as\nif they were much intoxicated, and seemed to be advancing towards the\nstair-case. She now remembered, that they must come this way to their\nchambers, and, forgetting all the terrors of the gallery, hurried\ntowards it with an intention of secreting herself in some of the\npassages, that opened beyond, and of endeavouring, when the Signors were\nretired, to find her way to her own room, or to that of Annette, which\nwas in a remote part of the castle. With extended arms, she crept along the gallery, still hearing the\nvoices of persons below, who seemed to stop in conversation at the foot\nof the stair-case, and then pausing for a moment to listen, half fearful\nof going further into the darkness of the gallery, where she still\nimagined, from the noise she had heard, that some person was lurking,\n'They are already informed of my arrival,' said she, 'and Montoni is\ncoming himself to seek me! In the present state of his mind, his purpose\nmust be desperate.' Then, recollecting the scene, that had passed in\nthe corridor, on the night preceding her departure from the castle, 'O\nValancourt!' said she, 'I must then resign you for ever. To brave any\nlonger the injustice of Montoni, would not be fortitude, but rashness.' Still the voices below did not draw nearer, but they became louder, and\nshe distinguished those of Verezzi and Bertolini above the rest, while\nthe few words she caught made her listen more anxiously for others. The\nconversation seemed to concern herself; and, having ventured to step\na few paces nearer to the stair-case, she discovered, that they were\ndisputing about her, each seeming to claim some former promise of\nMontoni, who appeared, at first, inclined to appease and to persuade\nthem to return to their wine, but afterwards to be weary of the dispute,\nand, saying that he left them to settle it as they could, was returning\nwith the rest of the party to the apartment he had just quitted. Verezzi then stopped him. 'Where is she? Signor,' said he, in a voice of\nimpatience: 'tell us where she is.' 'I have already told you that I\ndo not know,' replied Montoni, who seemed to be somewhat overcome with\nwine; 'but she is most probably gone to her apartment.' Verezzi\nand Bertolini now desisted from their enquiries, and sprang to the\nstair-case together, while Emily, who, during this discourse, had\ntrembled so excessively, that she had with difficulty supported herself,\nseemed inspired with new strength, the moment she heard the sound\nof their steps, and ran along the gallery, dark as it was, with the\nfleetness of a fawn. But, long before she reached its extremity, the\nlight, which Verezzi carried, flashed upon the walls; both appeared,\nand, instantly perceiving Emily, pursued her. At this moment, Bertolini,\nwhose steps, though swift, were not steady, and whose impatience\novercame what little caution he had hitherto used, stumbled, and fell\nat his length. The lamp fell with him, and was presently expiring on the\nfloor; but Verezzi, regardless of saving it, seized the advantage this\naccident gave him over his rival, and followed Emily, to whom, however,\nthe light had shown one of the passages that branched from the gallery,\nand she instantly turned into it. Verezzi could just discern the way she\nhad taken, and this he pursued; but the sound of her steps soon sunk\nin distance, while he, less acquainted with the passage, was obliged\nto proceed through the dark, with caution, lest he should fall down\na flight of steps, such as in this extensive old castle frequently\nterminated an avenue. This passage at length brought Emily to the\ncorridor, into which her own chamber opened, and, not hearing any\nfootstep, she paused to take breath, and consider what was the safest\ndesign to be adopted. She had followed this passage, merely because it\nwas the first that appeared, and now that she had reached the end of it,\nwas as perplexed as before. Whither to go, or how further to find her\nway in the dark, she knew not; she was aware only that she must not seek\nher apartment, for there she would certainly be sought, and her danger\nincreased every instant, while she remained near it. Her spirits and her\nbreath, however, were so much exhausted, that she was compelled to rest,\nfor a few minutes, at the end of the passage, and still she heard no\nsteps approaching. As thus she stood, light glimmered under an opposite\ndoor of the gallery, and, from its situation, she knew, that it was\nthe door of that mysterious chamber, where she had made a discovery so\nshocking, that she never remembered it but with the utmost horror.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-05, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-07 The user is reading a book]\n<User> That\nthere should be light in this chamber, and at this hour, excited her\nstrong surprise, and she felt a momentary terror concerning it, which\ndid not permit her to look again, for her spirits were now in such a\nstate of weakness, that she almost expected to see the door slowly open,\nand some horrible object appear at it. Still she listened for a\nstep along the passage, and looked up it, where, not a ray of light\nappearing, she concluded, that Verezzi had gone back for the lamp; and,\nbelieving that he would shortly be there, she again considered which way\nshe should go, or rather which way she could find in the dark. A faint ray still glimmered under the opposite door, but so great, and,\nperhaps, so just was her horror of that chamber, that she would not\nagain have tempted its secrets, though she had been certain of obtaining\nthe light so important to her safety. She was still breathing with\ndifficulty, and resting at the end of the passage, when she heard a\nrustling sound, and then a low voice, so very near her, that it seemed\nclose to her ear; but she had presence of mind to check her emotions,\nand to remain quite still; in the next moment, she perceived it to be\nthe voice of Verezzi, who did not appear to know, that she was there,\nbut to have spoken to himself. 'The air is fresher here,' said he: 'this\nshould be the corridor.' Perhaps, he was one of those heroes, whose\ncourage can defy an enemy better than darkness, and he tried to rally\nhis spirits with the sound of his own voice. However this might be,\nhe turned to the right, and proceeded, with the same stealing steps,\ntowards Emily's apartment, apparently forgetting, that, in darkness,\nshe could easily elude his search, even in her chamber; and, like an\nintoxicated person, he followed pertinaciously the one idea, that had\npossessed his imagination. The moment she heard his steps steal away, she left her station and\nmoved softly to the other end of the corridor, determined to trust\nagain to chance, and to quit it by the first avenue she could find; but,\nbefore she could effect this, light broke upon the walls of the gallery,\nand, looking back, she saw Verezzi crossing it towards her chamber. She now glided into a passage, that opened on the left, without, as\nshe thought, being perceived; but, in the next instant, another light,\nglimmering at the further end of this passage, threw her into new\nterror. While she stopped and hesitated which way to go, the pause\nallowed her to perceive, that it was Annette, who advanced, and\nshe hurried to meet her: but her imprudence again alarmed Emily,\non perceiving whom, she burst into a scream of joy, and it was some\nminutes, before she could be prevailed with to be silent, or to release\nher mistress from the ardent clasp, in which she held her. When, at\nlength, Emily made Annette comprehend her danger, they hurried\ntowards Annette's room, which was in a distant part of the castle. No apprehensions, however, could yet silence the latter. 'Oh dear\nma'amselle,' said she, as they passed along, 'what a terrified time have\nI had of it! Oh! I thought I should have died an hundred times! I never\nthought I should live to see you again! and I never was so glad to see\nany body in my whole life, as I am to see you now.' 'Hark!' cried Emily,\n'we are pursued; that was the echo of steps!' 'No, ma'amselle,' said\nAnnette, 'it was only the echo of a door shutting; sound runs along\nthese vaulted passages so, that one is continually deceived by it; if\none does but speak, or cough, it makes a noise as loud as a cannon.' 'Then there is the greater necessity for us to be silent,' said Emily:\n'pr'ythee say no more, till we reach your chamber.' Here, at length,\nthey arrived, without interruption, and, Annette having fastened the\ndoor, Emily sat down on her little bed, to recover breath and composure. To her enquiry, whether Valancourt was among the prisoners in the\ncastle, Annette replied, that she had not been able to hear, but that\nshe knew there were several persons confined. She then proceeded, in her\ntedious way, to give an account of the siege, or rather a detail of her\nterrors and various sufferings, during the attack. 'But,' added she,\n'when I heard the shouts of victory from the ramparts, I thought we were\nall taken, and gave myself up for lost, instead of which, WE had driven\nthe enemy away. I went then to the north gallery, and saw a great many\nof them scampering away among the mountains; but the rampart walls were\nall in ruins, as one may say, and there was a dismal sight to see down\namong the woods below, where the poor fellows were lying in heaps, but\nwere carried off presently by their comrades. While the siege was going\non, the Signor was here, and there, and every where, at the same time,\nas Ludovico told me, for he would not let me see any thing hardly, and\nlocked me up, as he has often done before, in a room in the middle of\nthe castle, and used to bring me food, and come and talk with me as\noften as he could; and I must say, if it had not been for Ludovico, I\nshould have died outright.' 'Well, Annette,' said Emily, 'and how have affairs gone on, since the\nsiege?' 'O! sad hurly burly doings, ma'amselle,' replied Annette; 'the Signors\nhave done nothing but sit and drink and game, ever since. They sit up,\nall night, and play among themselves, for all those riches and fine\nthings, they brought in, some time since, when they used to go out\na-robbing, or as good, for days together; and then they have dreadful\nquarrels about who loses, and who wins. That fierce Signor Verezzi is\nalways losing, as they tell me, and Signor Orsino wins from him, and\nthis makes him very wroth, and they have had several hard set-to's about\nit. Then, all those fine ladies are at the castle still; and I declare I\nam frighted, whenever I meet any of them in the passages.' --\n\n'Surely, Annette,' said Emily starting, 'I heard a noise: listen.' After\na long pause, 'No, ma'amselle,' said Annette, 'it was only the wind in\nthe gallery; I often hear it, when it shakes the old doors, at the other\nend. But won't you go to bed, ma'amselle? you surely will not sit up\nstarving, all night.' Emily now laid herself down on the mattress, and\ndesired Annette to leave the lamp burning on the hearth; having done\nwhich, the latter placed herself beside Emily, who, however, was not\nsuffered to sleep, for she again thought she heard a noise from the\npassage; and Annette was again trying to convince her, that it was only\nthe wind, when footsteps were distinctly heard near the door. Annette\nwas now starting from the bed, but Emily prevailed with her to remain\nthere, and listened with her in a state of terrible expectation. The\nsteps still loitered at the door, when presently an attempt was made on\nthe lock, and, in the next instant, a voice called. 'For heaven's sake,\nAnnette, do not answer,' said Emily softly, 'remain quite still; but I\nfear we must extinguish the lamp, or its glare will betray us.' 'Holy\nVirgin!' exclaimed Annette, forgetting her discretion, 'I would not be\nin darkness now for the whole world.' While she spoke, the voice became\nlouder than before, and repeated Annette's name; 'Blessed Virgin!' cried\nshe suddenly, 'it is only Ludovico.' She rose to open the door, but\nEmily prevented her, till they should be more certain, that it was he\nalone; with whom Annette, at length, talked for some time, and learned,\nthat he was come to enquire after herself, whom he had let out of her\nroom to go to Emily, and that he was now returned to lock her in again. Emily, fearful of being overheard, if they conversed any longer through\nthe door, consented that it should be opened, and a young man appeared,\nwhose open countenance confirmed the favourable opinion of him, which\nhis care of Annette had already prompted her to form. She entreated his\nprotection, should Verezzi make this requisite; and Ludovico offered\nto pass the night in an old chamber, adjoining, that opened from the\ngallery, and, on the first alarm, to come to their defence.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-07, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-09 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Emily was much soothed by this proposal; and Ludovico, having lighted\nhis lamp, went to his station, while she, once more, endeavoured to\nrepose on her mattress. But a variety of interests pressed upon her\nattention, and prevented sleep. She thought much on what Annette had\ntold her of the dissolute manners of Montoni and his associates, and\nmore of his present conduct towards herself, and of the danger, from\nwhich she had just escaped. From the view of her present situation she\nshrunk, as from a new picture of terror. She saw herself in a castle,\ninhabited by vice and violence, seated beyond the reach of law or\njustice, and in the power of a man, whose perseverance was equal to\nevery occasion, and in whom passions, of which revenge was not the\nweakest, entirely supplied the place of principles. She was compelled,\nonce more, to acknowledge, that it would be folly, and not fortitude,\nany longer to dare his power; and, resigning all hopes of future\nhappiness with Valancourt, she determined, that, on the following\nmorning, she would compromise with Montoni, and give up her estates,\non condition, that he would permit her immediate return to France. Such\nconsiderations kept her waking for many hours; but, the night passed,\nwithout further alarm from Verezzi. On the next morning, Emily had a long conversation with Ludovico, in\nwhich she heard circumstances concerning the castle, and received hints\nof the designs of Montoni, that considerably increased her alarms. On\nexpressing her surprise, that Ludovico, who seemed to be so sensible of\nthe evils of his situation, should continue in it, he informed her, that\nit was not his intention to do so, and she then ventured to ask him, if\nhe would assist her to escape from the castle. Ludovico assured her of\nhis readiness to attempt this, but strongly represented the difficulty\nof the enterprise, and the certain destruction which must ensue,\nshould Montoni overtake them, before they had passed the mountains;\nhe, however, promised to be watchful of every circumstance, that might\ncontribute to the success of the attempt, and to think upon some plan of\ndeparture. Emily now confided to him the name of Valancourt, and begged he would\nenquire for such a person among the prisoners in the castle; for the\nfaint hope, which this conversation awakened, made her now recede from\nher resolution of an immediate compromise with Montoni. She determined,\nif possible, to delay this, till she heard further from Ludovico, and,\nif his designs were found to be impracticable, to resign the estates\nat once. Her thoughts were on this subject, when Montoni, who was now\nrecovered from the intoxication of the preceding night, sent for her,\nand she immediately obeyed the summons. He was alone. 'I find,' said he,\n'that you were not in your chamber, last night; where were you?' Emily\nrelated to him some circumstances of her alarm, and entreated his\nprotection from a repetition of them. 'You know the terms of my\nprotection,' said he; 'if you really value this, you will secure it.' His open declaration, that he would only conditionally protect her,\nwhile she remained a prisoner in the castle, shewed Emily the necessity\nof an immediate compliance with his terms; but she first demanded,\nwhether he would permit her immediately to depart, if she gave up her\nclaim to the contested estates. In a very solemn manner he then assured\nher, that he would, and immediately laid before her a paper, which was\nto transfer the right of those estates to himself. She was, for a considerable time, unable to sign it, and her heart\nwas torn with contending interests, for she was about to resign the\nhappiness of all her future years--the hope, which had sustained her in\nso many hours of adversity. After hearing from Montoni a recapitulation of the conditions of her\ncompliance, and a remonstrance, that his time was valuable, she put her\nhand to the paper; when she had done which, she fell back in her chair,\nbut soon recovered, and desired, that he would give orders for her\ndeparture, and that he would allow Annette to accompany her. Montoni\nsmiled. 'It was necessary to deceive you,' said he,--'there was no other\nway of making you act reasonably; you shall go, but it must not be at\npresent. I must first secure these estates by possession: when that is\ndone, you may return to France if you will.' The deliberate villany, with which he violated the solemn engagement he\nhad just entered into, shocked Emily as much, as the certainty, that she\nhad made a fruitless sacrifice, and must still remain his prisoner. She\nhad no words to express what she felt, and knew, that it would have been\nuseless, if she had. As she looked piteously at Montoni, he turned away,\nand at the same time desired she would withdraw to her apartment; but,\nunable to leave the room, she sat down in a chair near the door, and\nsighed heavily. She had neither words nor tears. 'Why will you indulge this childish grief?' said he. 'Endeavour to\nstrengthen your mind, to bear patiently what cannot now be avoided; you\nhave no real evil to lament; be patient, and you will be sent back to\nFrance. At present retire to your apartment.' 'I dare not go, sir,' said she, 'where I shall be liable to the\nintrusion of Signor Verezzi.' 'Have I not promised to protect you?' said Montoni. 'You have promised, sir,'--replied Emily, after some\nhesitation. 'And is not my promise sufficient?' added he sternly. 'You\nwill recollect your former promise, Signor,' said Emily, trembling,\n'and may determine for me, whether I ought to rely upon this.' 'Will you\nprovoke me to declare to you, that I will not protect you then?' said\nMontoni, in a tone of haughty displeasure. 'If that will satisfy you,\nI will do it immediately. Withdraw to your chamber, before I retract my\npromise; you have nothing to fear there.' Emily left the room, and moved\nslowly into the hall, where the fear of meeting Verezzi, or Bertolini,\nmade her quicken her steps, though she could scarcely support herself;\nand soon after she reached once more her own apartment. Having looked\nfearfully round her, to examine if any person was there, and having\nsearched every part of it, she fastened the door, and sat down by one of\nthe casements. Here, while she looked out for some hope to support her\nfainting spirits, which had been so long harassed and oppressed, that,\nif she had not now struggled much against misfortune, they would have\nleft her, perhaps, for ever, she endeavoured to believe, that Montoni\ndid really intend to permit her return to France as soon as he had\nsecured her property, and that he would, in the mean time, protect her\nfrom insult; but her chief hope rested with Ludovico, who, she doubted\nnot, would be zealous in her cause, though he seemed almost to despair\nof success in it. One circumstance, however, she had to rejoice in. Her\nprudence, or rather her fears, had saved her from mentioning the name\nof Valancourt to Montoni, which she was several times on the point of\ndoing, before she signed the paper, and of stipulating for his release,\nif he should be really a prisoner in the castle. Had she done this,\nMontoni's jealous fears would now probably have loaded Valancourt\nwith new severities, and have suggested the advantage of holding him a\ncaptive for life. Thus passed the melancholy day, as she had before passed many in this\nsame chamber. When night drew on, she would have withdrawn herself to\nAnnette's bed, had not a particular interest inclined her to remain\nin this chamber, in spite of her fears; for, when the castle should be\nstill, and the customary hour arrived, she determined to watch for the\nmusic, which she had formerly heard. Though its sounds might not enable\nher positively to determine, whether Valancourt was there, they would\nperhaps strengthen her opinion that he was, and impart the comfort, so\nnecessary to her present support.--But, on the other hand, if all should\nbe silent--! She hardly dared to suffer her thoughts to glance that way,\nbut waited, with impatient expectation, the approaching hour. The night was stormy; the battlements of the castle appeared to rock in\nthe wind, and, at intervals, long groans seemed to pass on the air,\nsuch as those, which often deceive the melancholy mind, in tempests,\nand amidst scenes of desolation. Emily heard, as formerly, the sentinels\npass along the terrace to their posts, and, looking out from her\ncasement, observed, that the watch was doubled; a precaution, which\nappeared necessary enough, when she threw her eyes on the walls, and saw\ntheir shattered condition.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-09, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-11 The user is reading a book]\n<User> The well-known sounds of the soldiers' march,\nand of their distant voices, which passed her in the wind, and were lost\nagain, recalled to her memory the melancholy sensation she had\nsuffered, when she formerly heard the same sounds; and occasioned almost\ninvoluntary comparisons between her present, and her late situation. But this was no subject for congratulations, and she wisely checked the\ncourse of her thoughts, while, as the hour was not yet come, in which\nshe had been accustomed to hear the music, she closed the casement,\nand endeavoured to await it in patience. The door of the stair-case she\ntried to secure, as usual, with some of the furniture of the room; but\nthis expedient her fears now represented to her to be very inadequate to\nthe power and perseverance of Verezzi; and she often looked at a large\nand heavy chest, that stood in the chamber, with wishes that she and\nAnnette had strength enough to move it. While she blamed the long\nstay of this girl, who was still with Ludovico and some other of the\nservants, she trimmed her wood fire, to make the room appear less\ndesolate, and sat down beside it with a book, which her eyes perused,\nwhile her thoughts wandered to Valancourt, and her own misfortunes. As\nshe sat thus, she thought, in a pause of the wind, she distinguished\nmusic, and went to the casement to listen, but the loud swell of the\ngust overcame every other sound. When the wind sunk again, she heard\ndistinctly, in the deep pause that succeeded, the sweet strings of a\nlute; but again the rising tempest bore away the notes, and again was\nsucceeded by a solemn pause. Emily, trembling with hope and fear, opened\nher casement to listen, and to try whether her own voice could be\nheard by the musician; for to endure any longer this state of torturing\nsuspense concerning Valancourt, seemed to be utterly impossible. There\nwas a kind of breathless stillness in the chambers, that permitted her\nto distinguish from below the tender notes of the very lute she had\nformerly heard, and with it, a plaintive voice, made sweeter by the low\nrustling sound, that now began to creep along the wood-tops, till it\nwas lost in the rising wind. Their tall heads then began to wave, while,\nthrough a forest of pine, on the left, the wind, groaning heavily,\nrolled onward over the woods below, bending them almost to their roots;\nand, as the long-resounding gale swept away, other woods, on the\nright, seemed to answer the 'loud lament;' then, others, further still,\nsoftened it into a murmur, that died into silence. Emily listened,\nwith mingled awe and expectation, hope and fear; and again the melting\nsweetness of the lute was heard, and the same solemn-breathing voice. Convinced that these came from an apartment underneath, she leaned far\nout of her window, that she might discover whether any light was there;\nbut the casements below, as well as those above, were sunk so deep in\nthe thick walls of the castle, that she could not see them, or even the\nfaint ray, that probably glimmered through their bars. She then ventured\nto call; but the wind bore her voice to the other end of the terrace,\nand then the music was heard as before, in the pause of the gust. Suddenly, she thought she heard a noise in her chamber, and she drew\nherself within the casement; but, in a moment after, distinguishing\nAnnette's voice at the door, she concluded it was her she had heard\nbefore, and she let her in. 'Move softly, Annette, to the casement,'\nsaid she, 'and listen with me; the music is returned.' They were silent\ntill, the measure changing, Annette exclaimed, 'Holy Virgin! I know that\nsong well; it is a French song, one of the favourite songs of my dear\ncountry.' This was the ballad Emily had heard on a former night, though\nnot the one she had first listened to from the fishing-house in Gascony. 'O! it is a Frenchman, that sings,' said Annette: 'it must be Monsieur\nValancourt.' 'Hark! Annette, do not speak so loud,' said Emily, 'we may\nbe overheard.' 'What! by the Chevalier?' said Annette. 'No,' replied\nEmily mournfully, 'but by somebody, who may report us to the Signor. What reason have you to think it is Monsieur Valancourt, who sings? But\nhark! now the voice swells louder! Do you recollect those tones? I fear\nto trust my own judgment.' 'I never happened to hear the Chevalier\nsing, Mademoiselle,' replied Annette, who, as Emily was disappointed to\nperceive, had no stronger reason for concluding this to be Valancourt,\nthan that the musician must be a Frenchman. Soon after, she heard the\nsong of the fishing-house, and distinguished her own name, which was\nrepeated so distinctly, that Annette had heard it also. She trembled,\nsunk into a chair by the window, and Annette called aloud, 'Monsieur\nValancourt! Monsieur Valancourt!' while Emily endeavoured to check her,\nbut she repeated the call more loudly than before, and the lute and the\nvoice suddenly stopped. Emily listened, for some time, in a state\nof intolerable suspense; but, no answer being returned, 'It does not\nsignify, Mademoiselle,' said Annette; 'it is the Chevalier, and I will\nspeak to him.' 'No, Annette,' said Emily, 'I think I will speak myself;\nif it is he, he will know my voice, and speak again.' 'Who is it,' said\nshe, 'that sings at this late hour?' A long silence ensued, and, having repeated the question, she perceived\nsome faint accents, mingling in the blast, that swept by; but the sounds\nwere so distant, and passed so suddenly, that she could scarcely hear\nthem, much less distinguish the words they uttered, or recognise the\nvoice. After another pause, Emily called again; and again they heard\na voice, but as faintly as before; and they perceived, that there were\nother circumstances, besides the strength, and direction of the wind, to\ncontent with; for the great depth, at which the casements were fixed in\nthe castle walls, contributed, still more than the distance, to prevent\narticulated sounds from being understood, though general ones were\neasily heard. Emily, however, ventured to believe, from the circumstance\nof her voice alone having been answered, that the stranger was\nValancourt, as well as that he knew her, and she gave herself up to\nspeechless joy. Annette, however, was not speechless.--She renewed\nher calls, but received no answer; and Emily, fearing, that a further\nattempt, which certainly was, as present, highly dangerous, might expose\nthem to the guards of the castle, while it could not perhaps terminate\nher suspense, insisted on Annette's dropping the enquiry for this night;\nthough she determined herself to question Ludovico, on the subject, in\nthe morning, more urgently than she had yet done. She was now enabled\nto say, that the stranger, whom she had formerly heard, was still in\nthe castle, and to direct Ludovico to that part of it, in which he was\nconfined. Emily, attended by Annette, continued at the casement, for some time,\nbut all remained still; they heard neither lute or voice again, and\nEmily was now as much oppressed by anxious joy, as she lately was by a\nsense of her misfortunes. With hasty steps she paced the room, now half\ncalling on Valancourt's name, then suddenly stopping, and now going to\nthe casement and listening, where, however, she heard nothing but\nthe solemn waving of the woods. Sometimes her impatience to speak to\nLudovico prompted her to send Annette to call him; but a sense of the\nimpropriety of this at midnight restrained her. Annette, meanwhile, as\nimpatient as her mistress, went as often to the casement to listen, and\nreturned almost as much disappointed. She, at length, mentioned\nSignor Verezzi, and her fear, lest he should enter the chamber by the\nstaircase, door. 'But the night is now almost past, Mademoiselle,' said\nshe, recollecting herself; 'there is the morning light, beginning to\npeep over those mountains yonder in the east.' Emily had forgotten, till this moment, that such a person existed as\nVerezzi, and all the danger that had appeared to threaten her; but the\nmention of his name renewed her alarm, and she remembered the old chest,\nthat she had wished to place against the door, which she now, with\nAnnette, attempted to move, but it was so heavy, that they could not\nlift it from the floor.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-11, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-12 The user is reading a book]\n<User> 'What is in this great old chest, Mademoiselle,'\nsaid Annette, 'that makes it so weighty?' Emily having replied, 'that\nshe found it in the chamber, when she first came to the castle, and had\nnever examined it.' --'Then I will, ma'amselle,' said Annette, and she\ntried to lift the lid; but this was held by a lock, for which she had\nno key, and which, indeed, appeared, from its peculiar construction, to\nopen with a spring. The morning now glimmered through the casements, and\nthe wind had sunk into a calm. Emily looked out upon the dusky woods,\nand on the twilight mountains, just stealing in the eye, and saw the\nwhole scene, after the storm, lying in profound stillness, the woods\nmotionless, and the clouds above, through which the dawn trembled,\nscarcely appearing to move along the heavens. One soldier was pacing the\nterrace beneath, with measured steps; and two, more distant, were sunk\nasleep on the walls, wearied with the night's watch. Having inhaled, for\na while, the pure spirit of the air, and of vegetation, which the late\nrains had called forth; and having listened, once more, for a note of\nmusic, she now closed the casement, and retired to rest.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-12, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far."]
[{"question": "Summarize the content of the book I read from 2024-01-01 to 2024-01-12", "answer": "Count Morano, Em, Montoni, poisoning suspicion, anonymous letter, crimes against the state, Udolpho, siege, Tuscany, Bertrand, Ugo, deserted castle, Verezzi, Bertolini, Annette, signing away rights, estates, threat, France, Valancourt, prisoner, familiar song, bamboozled, con man, grudge against Montoni"}]