He recommended her following the
same prescription which, on the night before, had procured her a
refreshing sleep: Flora replied that the draught stood ready
upon the Table: He advised the Patient to take it without delay,
and then retired. Flora poured the medicine into a Cup and
presented it to her Mistress. At that moment Ambrosio's courage
failed him. Might not Matilda have deceived him? Might not
Jealousy have persuaded her to destroy her Rival, and substitute
poison in the room of an opiate? This idea appeared so
reasonable that He was on the point of preventing her from
swallowing the medicine. His resolution was adopted too late:
The Cup was already emptied, and Antonia restored it into Flora's
hands. No remedy was now to be found: Ambrosio could only
expect the moment impatiently, destined to decide upon Antonia's
life or death, upon his own happiness or despair.
Dreading to create suspicion by his stay, or betray himself by
his mind's agitation, He took leave of his Victim, and withdrew
from the room. Antonia parted from him with less cordiality than
on the former night. Flora had represented to her Mistress that
to admit his visits was to disobey her Mother's orders: She
described to her his emotion on entering the room, and the fire
which sparkled in his eyes while He gazed upon her. This had
escaped Antonia's observation, but not her Attendant's; Who
explaining the Monk's designs and their probable consequences in
terms much clearer than Elvira's, though not quite so delicate,
had succeeded in alarming her young Lady, and persuading her to
treat him more distantly than She had done hitherto.
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