Emily had just strength enough to bid him stay, and then to call Annette, on whose arm she leaned, and they walked slowly up the rampart, till they heard steps behind them.

It was Barnardine again.
'Send away the girl,' said he, 'and I will tell you more.' 'She must not go,' said Emily; 'what you have to say, she may hear.' 'May she so, lady ?' said he.

'You shall know no more, then;' and he was going, though slowly, when Emily's anxiety, overcoming the resentment and fear, which the man's behaviour had roused, she desired him to stay, and bade Annette retire.
'The Signora is alive,' said he, 'for me.

She is my prisoner, though; his excellenza has shut her up in the chamber over the great gates of the court, and I have the charge of her.

I was going to have told you, you might see her--but now--' Emily, relieved from an unutterable load of anguish by this speech, had now only to ask Barnardine's forgiveness, and to conjure, that he would let her visit her aunt.
He complied with less reluctance, than she expected, and told her, that, if she would repair, on the following night, when the Signor was retired to rest, to the postern-gate of the castle, she should, perhaps, see Madame Montoni.
Amid all the thankfulness, which Emily felt for this concession, she thought she observed a malicious triumph in his manner, when he pronounced the last words; but, in the next moment, she dismissed the thought, and, having again thanked him, commended her aunt to his pity, and assured him, that she would herself reward him, and would be punctual to her appointment, she bade him good night, and retired, unobserved, to her chamber.