CHAPTER XIX

Now my task is smoothly done,

I can fly, or I can run

Quickly to the green earth’s end,

Where the bow’d welkin low doth bend,

And, from thence, can soar as soon

To the corners of the moon.

MILTON

The marriages of the Lady Blanche and Emily St. Aubert were celebrated,

on the same day, and with the ancient baronial magnificence, at

Château-le-Blanc. The feasts were held in the great hall of the castle,

which, on this occasion, was hung with superb new tapestry,

representing the exploits of Charlemagne and his twelve peers; here,

were seen the Saracens, with their horrible visors, advancing to

battle; and there, were displayed the wild solemnities of incantation,

and the necromantic feats, exhibited by the magician _Jarl_ before the

Emperor. The sumptuous banners of the family of Villeroi, which had

long slept in dust, were once more unfurled, to wave over the gothic

points of painted casements; and music echoed, in many a lingering

close, through every winding gallery and colonnade of that vast

edifice.

As Annette looked down from the corridor upon the hall, whose arches

and windows were illuminated with brilliant festoons of lamps, and

gazed on the splendid dresses of the dancers, the costly liveries of

the attendants, the canopies of purple velvet and gold, and listened to

the gay strains that floated along the vaulted roof, she almost fancied

herself in an enchanted palace, and declared, that she had not met with

any place, which charmed her so much, since she read the fairy tales;

nay, that the fairies themselves, at their nightly revels in this old

hall, could display nothing finer; while old Dorothée, as she surveyed

the scene, sighed, and said, the castle looked as it was wont to do in

the time of her youth.

After gracing the festivities of Château-le-Blanc, for some days,

Valancourt and Emily took leave of their kind friends, and returned to

La Vallée, where the faithful Theresa received them with unfeigned joy,

and the pleasant shades welcomed them with a thousand tender and

affecting remembrances; and, while they wandered together over the

scenes, so long inhabited by the late Mons. and Madame St. Aubert, and

Emily pointed out, with pensive affection, their favourite haunts, her

present happiness was heightened, by considering, that it would have

been worthy of their approbation, could they have witnessed it.

Valancourt led her to the plane-tree on the terrace, where he had first

ventured to declare his love, and where now the remembrance of the

anxiety he had then suffered, and the retrospect of all the dangers and

misfortunes they had each encountered, since last they sat together

beneath its broad branches, exalted the sense of their present

felicity, which, on this spot, sacred to the memory of St. Aubert, they

solemnly vowed to deserve, as far as possible, by endeavouring to

imitate his benevolence,—by remembering, that superior attainments of

every sort bring with them duties of superior exertion,—and by

affording to their fellow-beings, together with that portion of

ordinary comforts, which prosperity always owes to misfortune, the

example of lives passed in happy thankfulness to God, and, therefore,

in careful tenderness to his creatures.

Soon after their return to La Vallée, the brother of Valancourt came to

congratulate him on his marriage, and to pay his respects to Emily,

with whom he was so much pleased, as well as with the prospect of

rational happiness, which these nuptials offered to Valancourt, that he

immediately resigned to him a part of the rich domain, the whole of

which, as he had no family, would of course descend to his brother, on

his decease.

The estates, at Thoulouse, were disposed of, and Emily purchased of

Mons. Quesnel the ancient domain of her late father, where, having

given Annette a marriage portion, she settled her as the housekeeper,

and Ludovico as the steward; but, since both Valancourt and herself

preferred the pleasant and long-loved shades of La Vallée to the

magnificence of Epourville, they continued to reside there, passing,

however, a few months in the year at the birth-place of St. Aubert, in

tender respect to his memory.

The legacy, which had been bequeathed to Emily by Signora Laurentini,

she begged Valancourt would allow her to resign to Mons. Bonnac; and

Valancourt, when she made the request, felt all the value of the

compliment it conveyed. The castle of Udolpho, also, descended to the

wife of Mons. Bonnac, who was the nearest surviving relation of the

house of that name, and thus affluence restored his long-oppressed

spirits to peace, and his family to comfort.

O! how joyful it is to tell of happiness, such as that of Valancourt

and Emily; to relate, that, after suffering under the oppression of the

vicious and the disdain of the weak, they were, at length, restored to

each other—to the beloved landscapes of their native country,—to the

securest felicity of this life, that of aspiring to moral and labouring

for intellectual improvement—to the pleasures of enlightened society,

and to the exercise of the benevolence, which had always animated their

hearts; while the bowers of La Vallée became, once more, the retreat of

goodness, wisdom and domestic blessedness!

O! useful may it be to have shown, that, though the vicious can

sometimes pour affliction upon the good, their power is transient and

their punishment certain; and that innocence, though oppressed by

injustice, shall, supported by patience, finally triumph over

misfortune!

And, if the weak hand, that has recorded this tale, has, by its scenes,

beguiled the mourner of one hour of sorrow, or, by its moral, taught

him to sustain it—the effort, however humble, has not been vain, nor is

the writer unrewarded.