■H 
 
 LI B RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVLRSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 C97a ro 
 
 \S03 
 ^
 
 f\
 
 
 *^y^/y/^ 
 
 ROMANCE 
 
 OF 
 
 THE PYRENEES. 
 
 FOUR VOLUMES. 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 XOJVDOaY; 
 PRINTED FOR G. AND J. ROBINSON> 
 
 PATERNOSTER-ROW ; 
 
 By S. Hamilton, Falcon-Court, Fleet-Strf et. 
 
 3 803.
 
 V . ! ROMANCE 
 
 PYRENEES 
 
 - CHAP. L 
 
 jL/ejected, pale, and emaciated, the ve- 
 nerable Fidato (for many years the respect- 
 ed maggior-domo at the castle of Manfre- 
 donia) entered with slow and unequal paces 
 the pleasure-grounds belonging to the cas- 
 tle — now grounds of pain to him ; each 
 shrub, each walk, each building, bringing 
 more immediately to the lingering eye of 
 fond remembrance the lamented lord of this 
 faithful and affectionate domestic, Lorenzo 
 duca di Manfredonia, who had been a few 
 weeks prior to this period torn from his 
 friends and a respecting world by relentless 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 
 
 fate, on his passage from the islands of the 
 Archipelago, where domestic sorrows had 
 led him to wander in search of lost repose^ 
 Solitude Fidato now sought, that he 
 might give free indulgence to his own afflic- 
 tion, without augmenting that of the other 
 domestics, who all adored their late lord, 
 and now, with genuine and poignant sor- 
 row, deplored the early death of a man 
 who in their estimation left not his compeer 
 upon earth. In the keen anguish of afflic- 
 tion, the good old 'man threw himself upon 
 a sloping bank, where through a vista he 
 could behold the castle. Sorrow's large 
 tears rolled down his furrowed cheeks ; and 
 to ease his bursting heart he spoke his 
 griefs aloud. 
 
 " Ah Manfredonia 1" he exclaimed, ^'ho- 
 noured, beloved, illustrious name ! art 
 thou indeed no more ? Is then thy resplen- 
 dent glory set, and thy noble race extinct? 
 No, no ! while virtue lives in the memory 
 of man, Lorenzo's name must be immortal. 
 Ah Manfredonia ! ill-fated castle ! so long in- 
 habited by a virtuous race, blighted are now 
 thy honours. Moulder from thy base, once
 
 3 
 
 grand and envied pile — thy glory is laid In 
 the dust, and crumble thou with it. No 
 longer raise thy proudly conscious turrets to 
 the sky, as if you still sheltered worth un- 
 equalled. No; low art thou fallen 5 Lo- 
 renzo is no more ; and thou hast nothing 
 now to boast of, nor I to make life precious : 
 the prop on which we long had rested is 
 torn from us. His sweet babe too ; ah ! 
 gone ! gone ! bereft of all ! destitute ! for- 
 lorn ! nothing spared to us but the widowed 
 mate of our Lorenzo ! and she, O heaven ! 
 cannot long survive this soul-rending cala- 
 mity, when I sink beneath its fatal influ- 
 ence. Oh 1 too surely, with feelings strong as 
 hers, with such an attachment, and for such 
 a husband, she will despair and die. Then, 
 then, the property of strangers wilt thou 
 become, once grand and noble pile ! or, sad- 
 der yet, on some court parasite or minion 
 of vice our deluded sovereign may per- 
 haps bestow thee 1 — but may the agitated 
 earth open .and sa»e thee from such disho- 
 nour! and, oh ! may grief terminate my now 
 hapless days before that disgraceful hour!" 
 
 B 2
 
 4 
 
 At this moment a domestic appeared to 
 inform Fidato a courier was just arrived 
 from Naples with dispatches from Elvira 
 the widowed duchessa. Enervated by age 
 and grief, Fidato slowly arose, and with 
 tottering steps reached the castle to re- 
 ceive the dispatches, which he trembled to 
 read, fearing the power of sympathy over 
 his feeling and already too much afflicted 
 mind. 
 
 With a degree of trepidation almost too 
 much for his feeble frame to support, he 
 took the packet from the courier, who 
 was clad in the Vicenza livery; and as he 
 read its contents, he suddenly ceased to 
 tremble; a shade of the deepest crimson 
 overspread his before pallid cheeks ; a 
 gleam of indignant fire flashed from his lan- 
 guid eyes ; and, in a moment more, deadly 
 paleness diffused itself over his agitated 
 countenance ; his eyes closed, and he fell 
 senseless to the ground. 
 
 So beloved was Fidato, that his illness 
 was no sooner known than every domestic 
 in the castle rushed forward to his assis- 
 tance, and after a long interval their efforts
 
 5 
 
 for his recovery proved successful. Look- 
 ing sadly upon them, he in some little time 
 after spoke, in a tone of firmness which a 
 painful exertion of fortitude had lent him, 
 to impart that intelligence the packet 
 contained ; v^^hich he still grasped in his 
 hand, as all held him in too much respect 
 to allow them to inspect papers addressed 
 to him. 
 
 " My friends and fellow domestics,*' said 
 he, " this packet contains orders for our im- 
 mediately preparing for the reception of the 
 duchessa — not as the sad relic of our 
 adored lamented lord, but, my friends — 
 
 can you believe it?" and the old man*s 
 
 voice was now broken by tears .... " but as 
 the happy bride of conte Vicenza.'* 
 
 A general groan burst from the hearts of 
 his auditors ; an awful silence for some mo- 
 ments after reigned ; all covered at once 
 their faces, as if ashamed to look around, 
 after such an insult had been offered to the 
 memory of him they loved. At length, a 
 murmur of stified grief and indignation burst 
 forth, as they all hurried away to conceal 
 their feelings from conte Vicenza's courier, 
 B 3
 
 whom none could make welcome, and upon 
 whom they all united to look with coldness 
 and aversion, for being in the service of him 
 who was to them an object of hatred. 
 
 *' Alas ! alas !" said they one to another, 
 " dare we murmur at the decrees of Provi- 
 dence, we surely might arraign its dispen- 
 sations to the best of men -, so beautiful in 
 person, so amiable in mind, so lovely in 
 disposition ; and yet to his lot fell two 
 fiends whose conduct reflects disgrace upon 
 their sex for ever. His first wife basely de- 
 serted him, the most tender and indulgent 
 of husbands — forsook her lovely babe, and 
 fled v/ith a wretch outlawed by his coun- 
 try's justice : and his second spouse has, 
 in defiance of every rule of decorum, of 
 gratitude, of every thing just or good, out- 
 raged his memory by an insult, an inde- 
 cency that stigmatises her name with in- 
 famy for ever." 
 
 The day at length arrived on which 
 the duchessa was expected at Manfredo- 
 nia, when the indignant domestics were 
 compelled to lay aside their mourning 
 habiliments i in doing which, grief was
 
 7 
 more forcibly awakened, and sat conspicu- 
 ous, in sable woe, upon each but too intel- 
 ligent countenance. 
 
 As the beautiful bride and no less beau- 
 tiful bridegroom approached the castle of 
 Manfredonia, disappointment darkened the 
 duchessa*s brow. No bands of jocund vas- 
 sals met her and her gay retinue, to bid her 
 welcome, and testify their joy with dance, 
 song, and acclamations, which she had 
 ever been hailed with when returning, even 
 after short absences, with her late husband: 
 now how different was her reception ! Ad- 
 vancing nearer to the castle, she found the 
 road strewed, not, gentle reader, with roses 
 and myrtle, but with cypress, rosemary, and 
 yew ; and the knell of death tolled heavily 
 from the belfry of the neighbouring con- 
 vent ; out of which, as the wedding train 
 passed it, the monks issued forth in solemn 
 procession, chanting most audibly a requiem 
 for the repose of the late duca di Manfre- 
 donia's soul. 
 
 Dreadfully disconcerted and chagrined, 
 the bride and bridegroom entered the castle 
 of Manfredonia, where the countenance of 
 B 4
 
 8 
 
 each domestic whom duty called forth at 
 their arrival conveyed the most severe but 
 tacit reproof. The duchessa, not deigning 
 to betray her mortification, demanded an- 
 grily " where Was Fidato ?'' '^ Confined to 
 his bed with a fever on his spirits since the 
 day he had the honour of receiving her last 
 dispatches,'* was the cutting reply. Her 
 eyes flashed fire. ** Where, then, was father 
 Rinaldo ?" she asked. *' In the chapel,*' she 
 was informed. Bianca, her chief and fa- 
 vourite woman, was ordered by the indig- 
 nant duchessa to summon father Rinaldo, 
 the domestic chaplain. Bianca returned 
 in evi'dent discomposure, " The holy father 
 was engaged saying a mass, and she feared 
 to disturb him." 
 
 Elvira, whose feelings were now worked 
 into a paroxysm of rage, scarcely knowing 
 the motive of her conduct, hurried to the 
 chapel, and flung open a door ; but there 
 she stopped, not daring, though bold and 
 ungovernable was her spirit, to proceed. 
 To her utter dismay she beheld the chapel 
 liung with black, with every insignia of 
 woe i and father Rinaldo, with two subor-
 
 9 
 
 dinate priests, performing a mass for the 
 repose of her late husband's soul. Hastily 
 she retreated to the saloon where conte Vi- 
 cenza was, and, without speaking, threw 
 herself into a seat in rage and spleen too 
 great for utterance. 
 
 In about twenty minutes the reverend 
 Rinaldo appeared before Elvira, who, sum- 
 moning a look to kill him with, haughtily 
 demanded " why he was not in readiness 
 to receive her upon her arrival I** 
 
 " I, duchessa,'* replied the venerable man 
 m a firm tone of voice and with an undaunt- 
 ed countenance, " I have not forgotten the 
 duca di Manfredonia, or what he raised me 
 to. He appointed me his chaplain, and 
 elected me his friend, and death has not yet 
 consigned him or my duty to oblivion in my 
 memory. My duties became more sacred 
 after his decease ; and my respect to the 
 memory of him who was kind to me has 
 but increased my diligence. The time our 
 holy religion teaches us to believe his soul 
 in purgatory is not yet expired ; and if his 
 precious soul is afflicted, too surely it re- 
 quired the aid of prayer in that dreadful mo- 
 B 5
 
 10 
 ment when insult and injury, envenomecj 
 by the barbed shaft of black ingratitude, 
 were offered to his scarcely cold manes. 
 Yes, duchessa, in that fell moment when 
 his widow entered this castle with a suc- 
 cessor to him whose remains I so lately con- 
 signed to the tomb of his virtuous ancestors, 
 affection and duty summoned me to re- 
 quiems : my soul, devoted to virtue, still 
 turns with fond regret to the sacred me- 
 mory of your late inestimable lord, and 
 leads me in scorn and horror from you and 
 the now fallen and dishonoured castle of 
 Manfredonia for ever." 
 * With all the dignity of conscious recti- 
 tude, the holy man now left the room unan- 
 swered y and in a few moments after, quit- 
 ted that asylum which from his youth had 
 kindly sheltered him, giving up to friend- 
 ship and to virtue a lucrative and high situ- 
 ation, and went a willing exile into poverty 
 and concealment, where the emissaries of 
 Elvira and conte Vicenza could never find 
 him, although dispatched to different climes 
 in pursuit of him whom they vowed impla- 
 cable vengeance against.
 
 11 
 
 The most sumptuous preparations were 
 made at the castle for the reception of con- 
 gratulatory visitors, but not one appeared ; 
 and the duchessa, quite determined to brave 
 the indecorum of her conduct out, resolved 
 to appear on the following Sunday in all her 
 nuptial state at church. Not choosing to 
 honour by her presence the church of that 
 monastery by the monks of which she had 
 been so palpably insulted, she determined 
 upon going to a convent of Ursulines, situ- 
 ated about a league further from the castle, 
 and which it was then much the fashion to 
 frequent : but upon entering the Ursuline 
 church in all the eclat of her bridal pomp, 
 how was she mortified to find it hung with 
 black ! and, still worse, in the course of the 
 service the nuns most touchingly chanted a 
 requiem for the late duca, who had been a 
 powerful benefactor to their house ; and 
 one of the most popular preachers in the 
 province pronounced a funeral oration on 
 the virtues of the deceased. 
 
 After such insults and contempt being 
 evinced by all descriptions of people, the 
 duchessa and conte Vicenza^ considering it
 
 12 
 
 vain to contend with public prejudice, made 
 a precipitate retreat from Manfredonia to a 
 superb chateau near Versailles, a late pur- 
 chase of the conte's ; where they soon en- 
 tered upon that career of vice and dissipa- 
 tion so congenial to their inclinations. 
 
 Polydore conte di Vicenza, descended 
 from an illustrious house, had been the 
 ward of conte Ariosto, Elvira's father j but 
 having soon lavished away a rather small 
 patrimony, he had for the last few years of 
 his life appeared to be indebted to conte 
 Ariosto, Elvira's brother, (her father being 
 dead,) for every comfort he enjoyed. Deeply 
 artful and insinuating, he had ever worn 
 to the young conte Ariosto the semblance 
 of every virtue, and enjoyed from his friend- 
 ship and good opinion every pecuniary assis- 
 tance his prodigality could wish for. 
 
 At the period Elvira's indecorous mar- 
 riage took place, conte Ariosto had seclu- 
 ded himself from the world, in his castle in 
 Tuscany, to lament his Clementina, his ten- 
 derly adored wife, whom he had recently 
 lost. The death of his beloved friend the 
 duca di Manfredonia, whose domestic ca-
 
 13 
 
 lamities had occasioned his, and whose first 
 wife had been nearly related to the contessa 
 Aricsto, considerably increased his portion 
 of grief: and the marriage of his sister, so 
 shamefully premature, was heard of with 
 sorrow and indignation by this truly amiable 
 young man : he refused to see her, or the 
 man he had once called friend ; nor would 
 he reply to any of their numerous letters for 
 above two years after their union ; when find- 
 ing how serious had been the inroads made 
 by grief upon his constitution, and that the 
 awful moment of his dissolution was fast ap- 
 proaching, he wished to die in charity with 
 all the world, and therefore wrote a conci- 
 liatory letter to his sister and her husband, 
 whose dissolute lives, from the circumstance 
 of distance and his own seclusion from so- 
 ciety, he was totally unacquainted with ; 
 but believing their lives untinctured by any 
 error of consequence except their indeco- 
 rous marriage, entreated, in the most aw- 
 fully solemn manner to be conceived, " their 
 parental care and protection for his two 
 lovely and adored children, Alphonso and 
 Victoria, whom he requested permission to
 
 14 
 
 leave under the guardianship of Elvira:" 
 and very shortly after receiving the ansv^ers 
 from his sister and her specious husband, 
 promising in the most solemn manner to 
 fulfil all the anxious father's wishes, the 
 amiable conte Ariosto breathed his last, in 
 the thirtieth year of his age, lamented by 
 all who knew him. 
 
 Immediately after the death of their in- 
 estimable father, the two lovely orphans, 
 Alphonso then in his sixth year, Victoria 
 in her third, were conducted by the per- 
 sons appointed by their late anxious pa- 
 rent to superintend their education, toge- 
 ther with a little smiling rosy Tuscan girl^ 
 of five years old, (a poor orphan, whom 
 conte Ariosto had taken under his protec- 
 tion to bring up as an attendant for his 
 daughter,) to the chateau of conte VIcenza, 
 in the Isle of France. 
 
 Elvira, immersed In pleasure and unbound- 
 ed dissipation, consulted the method only 
 that would be attended with the least trou- 
 ble to herself of fulfilling the important 
 trust her deluded brother had unfortu- 
 nately reposed in her. Alphonso she there-
 
 i5 
 
 fore left solely to the guidance of Ludovico 
 Albert!, a learned priest; who, having been 
 cautiously elected by conte Ariosto to edu- 
 cate his son, happily possessed more virtues 
 than the duchessa v^ould have thought in 
 the least necessary for the preceptor of an 
 affluent nobleman to possess. So unheeded 
 by this faithless guardian, Alphonso learned 
 from the v^ise and good Alberti all that 
 could enlarge the understanding and adorn 
 the heart; while Victoria too, left totally to 
 the care of the person appointed by her fa- 
 ther to form her mind, soon proved, by the 
 high and proper cultivation of her naturally 
 fine talents, and the skilful nurture and 
 training of those inborn virtues she emi- 
 nently possessed, how judicious and fortu- 
 nate had been the choice of conte Ariosto, 
 when he selected the amiable Ursuline Fa- 
 rinelli for the instructor of his daughter.
 
 l& 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 A.S we are not writing a treatise upon edu- 
 cation, we will not lead our readers through 
 all the toils and pleasures father Alberti 
 and signora Farinelli experienced in form- 
 ing the minds of their pupils, but present 
 them, faultless as nature and their able in- 
 structors could make them, to our (we hope) 
 candid reader, at the period when Alphonso 
 had just attained his twenty-first year, and 
 Victoria her eighteenth. France and Spain 
 were involved at that time in war with 
 Great Britain; and Alphonso, whose heart 
 glowed with all the ardour of youthful pa- 
 triotic enthusiasm, chose the honourable 
 profession of arms. In vain were entreaties 
 and expostulations — the frowns of Elvira, 
 the tears of Victoria, or the advice of father 
 Alberti. His guardian no longer possessed 
 power to controul his inclinations, nor 
 could affection win him from his purpose. 
 A commission therefore was obtained for
 
 17 
 
 him in the Spanish cavalry, as he had no 
 property in France ; while in Spain he pos- 
 sessed considerable estates, which had de- 
 volved to him in right of his grandmother 
 by the paternal side : and after a most ten- 
 der and painful parting with his beloved 
 sister, and a respectful one with his other 
 friends, he departed to join his regiment, 
 attended by his honoured preceptor, who 
 could not tear himself from this child of his 
 affections, but determined, old as he was, 
 and incompatible as he felt it with his holy 
 profession, to follow through all the toils 
 and dangers of war, and to watch over still 
 this prop on which his heart so fondly 
 rested. 
 
 Her separation from Alphonso was the 
 first affliction Victorians heart had known 
 since her mind had arrived at sufficient ma- 
 turity to appreciate justly the events of life, 
 and she felt it deeply. All around her brought 
 to her fond but sad remembrance the dear 
 companion of her infant days, the friend of 
 her riper years, who was gone, perhaps 
 lost to her for ever. He was now embarked 
 upon the sea of life ; other pursuits, other
 
 18 
 
 attachments would weaken his affection 
 for her; no longer would his sister be the 
 first object of his regard ; the Band that 
 bound them close in almost unequalled fond- 
 ness was now untied; and absence and still 
 nearer claims might return her brother to 
 her, not that tender, fraternal friend he left 
 her. She dvv^elt upon this mournful idea 
 until a kind of secret horror chilled her 
 mind, caught at length from the painful 
 belief that she should never again behold 
 her brother. She fek appalled, forlorn, and 
 wretched : the deepest melancholy obscured 
 her former playful vivacity, and it required 
 all the philosophy she had learned from fa- 
 ther Alberti, with all the sensible reason- 
 ing and tender care of signora Farinelli, to 
 rouse her from this state of sadness. 
 
 Conte Vicenza had ever evinced the 
 strongest partiality for Victoria, who, unac- 
 quainted with the darl: shades in his cha- 
 racter, looked up to him with the duty and 
 reverence of a child; and to dissipate her 
 sorrow upon the departure of her brother, 
 he projected a thousand little plans of 
 amusement likely to allure her innocent
 
 19 
 
 and docile mind back to cheerfulness and 
 peace ; and Victoria, influenced by her 
 lively gratitude, that was ever awake to 
 the kindness and attention bestowed upon 
 her, made every exertion in her power to 
 contribute to the success of her uncle's be- 
 nevolent efforts to cheer her^ and as the let- 
 ters she frequently received from Alphonso 
 assured her of his happiness, his health, 
 and safety, her mind was insensibly reas- 
 suming its wonted tranquillity, when the 
 mask under which Polydore had appeared 
 to our unsuspecting heroine, as the possessor 
 of every virtue, dfopped at once, and disco- 
 vered him to her r.s the most depraved of 
 human beings. His wife, with many other 
 profligate women he had met with, had not 
 impressed him with the most favourable 
 ideas of the sex's purity, and he dared to 
 insult the chaste ears of Victoria by an 
 avowal of an attachment to her, stronger 
 than parental aflTection. Shocked, amazed, 
 mortified, and indignant, she flew to her 
 Ursuli-ne, and related the dreadful insult 
 thus offered to her spotless heart ; and in the 
 midst of her powerful agitation feelingly
 
 20 
 
 deplored the wretched fate of her beloved, 
 respected aunt, in being united to a man so 
 devoid of every virtuous principle. 
 
 The distress and indignation of signora 
 Farinelli upon this shocking intelligence be- 
 came tinctured v^^ith a degree of alarm and 
 uneasiness which she was studious to con- 
 ceal from her beloved pupil, whose suscep- 
 tible feelings were already but too much 
 wounded; and after some deliberation she 
 waited upon the duchessa, and without he- 
 sitation frankly unfolded to her the conte*s 
 depravity towards Victoria, well knowing 
 that the information, horrid as it was, would 
 not wound the sensibility of her auditress* 
 
 Elvira was indeed too much devoted to 
 vice herself to be shocked at its influence 
 over others J but such an adept was she in 
 the art, that she deceived the amiable guile- 
 less, though penetrating Ursuline, into a 
 belief that she felt as she ought to do the 
 criminality of her husbandj and her resent- 
 ment appeared so just, her indignation so 
 natural, that signora Farinelli placed im- 
 plicit faith in her solemn promises of doing
 
 21 
 
 every thing in her power to secure h^r 
 niece's purity from any further insult. 
 
 The chateau was shortly after crowded 
 with gay visitors^ and as the wary duchessa 
 was well aware attention to her guests 
 would prevent, in a great degree, her vigi- 
 lant care of her niece, she, under the plau- 
 sible pretence of shielding her from the 
 schemes of Polydore, while she had in fact 
 a much more powerful though secret spring 
 to actuate her conduct, advised her remain- 
 ing entirely in her own apartment during 
 their stay, alleging to her inquiring guests 
 the delicate state of Victoria's health as the 
 cause of her not appearing amongst them. 
 
 Several weeks had thus passed on, Victoria 
 in a political state of confinement, Polydore 
 projecting means, and the duchessa dis- 
 appointing them, for his finding our heroine 
 alone. At length one morning, as Ursuline 
 and Victoria were paying their respects to 
 the duchessa in her dressing-room,' a billet 
 was delivered to Elvira, who after perusing 
 it arose, and desiring her niece and Farinelli 
 to remain where they were until her return, 
 departeds and about an hour and a half
 
 22 
 elapsed before she re-appeared, when with 
 tremulous steps she entered, her cheeks pale 
 as death, her lips quivering, her eyes wild, 
 and her whole aspect betraying emotions of 
 the most violent nature. 
 
 "Merciful Heaven!'* exclaimed Victo- 
 ria, flying anxiously and affectionately to 
 her, '' what is the matter ? What can have 
 thus so alarmed and agitated my dear 
 aunt?'' 
 
 Elvira pushed Victoria w^ith violence from 
 her. *' Go," said she, " leave my presence! 
 And you, woman,'* to Ursuline, ^' go from 
 my sight for ever !" 
 
 " Gracious Providence 1" cried Victo- 
 ria, ''what can I have done? Wherein 
 can we possibly have offended ? But I mis- 
 take; my beloved aunt is terrified, not an- 
 
 The duchessa, averting her face, essayed 
 several times to articulate without tremor 
 before she could distinctly repeat her com- 
 mands to Ursuline and Victoria to be gone. 
 In grief and consternation they obeyed; and 
 several minutes elapsed after they regained 
 their own apartment, before either of them
 
 23 
 
 recovered their astonishment sufficiently to 
 speak. At length Victoria broke silence. 
 
 "What can be the matter, dearest ma- 
 dam ?'' 
 
 " Heaven and its saints alone can tell ; 
 and may they protect my child from harm 1" . 
 signora Farinelli replied. 
 
 "But it appears to me, madam, as if my 
 aunt's conduct was the effect of terror, not 
 displeasure." 
 
 " So I thought too," ansv7ered Ursuline. 
 " The duchessa's whole appearance strongly 
 evinced dismay." 
 
 '* It must be so," said Victoria ; ^^ we can 
 have given no cause for such displeasure; 
 and she is too good, too just, to condemn 
 without full proof of guilt. Some dreadful 
 alarm has certainly deranged her senses for 
 the moment ; and we have been very cruel 
 to leave her in such a state. I will go back 
 and try what I can do to compose her." 
 Victoria had just reached the door, when 
 Bianca entered without the least ceremony, 
 and with a strongly marked air of insolence 
 addressed the astonished signora Ursuline. 
 
 *^The duchessa sends you this purse,"
 
 24 
 
 said she, "containing the wages due to you> 
 for your attendance upon your pupil, and 
 orders you in the course of one hour to de- 
 part from the chateau ; and she has desired 
 me to add, that if you do not go peace- 
 ably hence at the appointed time, you will 
 be compelled to go." 
 
 Ursuline received this unexpected message 
 in silent grief, too great for utterance i but 
 Victoria, almost wild with apprehension and 
 amazement, would have flown to supplicate 
 Elvira, had not what she had just heard 
 proved a shock too powerful for her to sus- 
 tain, and she fell senseless to the ground. 
 Nothing could have roused Ursuline from 
 her stupor but the situation of her darling, 
 whom she clasped to her maternal bosom, 
 and with her fond endearments recalled to 
 life. 
 
 The moment Victoria's powers returned, 
 she was hastening to the duchessa, when 
 Bianca informed her she was a prisoner, 
 and, instantly retreating to the anti-chamber, 
 locked the door upon Ursuline and Victoria. 
 
 Our heroine considered signora Farinelli 
 as a dear and respected parent; Ursuline
 
 25 
 
 beheld her lovely pupil as her darling child. 
 To part was worse than death to both, 
 Ursullne saw that parting was inevitable, 
 and her heart was rending with the ago- 
 nising thought ; while Victoria, as she 
 sobbed upon the bosom of her maternal 
 friend, still flattered herself, with the san* 
 guine hope of youth, that something would 
 yet intervene to prevent their separation ; 
 but too full of affliction were they both to 
 make any preparation for the dreaded de- 
 parture, or to form any project for prevent- 
 ing it. 
 
 At length Victoria's women were ad- 
 mitted by Blanca, who came with orders 
 to assist them in preparing signora Fari- 
 nelli's wardrobe for a removal. Ursuline 
 could give them no directions; and they 
 packed up every thing belonging to her, 
 as well as their tears — particularly those of 
 Roselia the Tuscan girl— -would permit. 
 
 The hour elapsed, and Bianca announced 
 the arrival of the carriage that was to con- 
 vey signora Farinelli from the chateau. 
 Victoria, shrieking wildly, clung to the ma- 
 ternal bosom of her Ursuline, who had not 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 26 
 
 resolution to tear herself from her adored 
 pupil's fervent grasp. Bianca in vain re- 
 peated the cruel mandate for her departure. 
 At length, by order of Elvira, several male 
 domestics rushed into the apartment; and, 
 en seeing them, Victoria fell into a death- 
 like swoon. Ursuline, subdued by tender 
 sensations, and a thousand apprehensions 
 for her beloved child, fainted too; and v^^hile 
 they continued in that situation the dread- 
 ful separation was effected. 
 
 When Victoria recovered from her swoon, 
 the recollection of the irreparable loss she 
 had just sustained must have deprived her 
 again of sense had not her agonising grief 
 found relief in tears. Bitterly she wept, and 
 fervently she invoked the protection of 
 Heaven for her Ursuline and herself; and as 
 soon as the first gust of her affliction per- 
 mitted her to observe those about her, she 
 perceived several of the duchessa's women 
 busily deployed, under the direction of 
 Bianca, packing up some part of her ward- 
 robe. She thought this strange ; but every 
 thing appeared so now, and she attended 
 not to what she saw : she only wished to be
 
 27 
 left to the free indulgence of her grief i and 
 the moment her convulsive sobs allowed 
 her to articulate, she mildly requested Bi- 
 anca and the other wromen to depart. 
 
 *' No ma'am," Bianca pertly replied, "that 
 v^e cannot do; for let us be ever so expedi- 
 tious, wc shall scarcely have sufficient time 
 to pack up what I think necessary to be 
 sent along with you." 
 
 " What,'' cried Victoria, almost panting 
 for breath, '^ am I to leave the chateau too ? 
 Shall I then be allowed to go with that dear 
 friend I thought for ever lost to me ?" 
 
 "You have lost more than signora Fa- 
 rinelli," Bianca replied : " all your own peo- 
 ple are dismissed, even Roselia ; and worse 
 still^you have lost the affections and good 
 opinion of the duchessa," 
 
 " Heaven forbid !" exclaimed Victoria. 
 " But what can all this mean ?" 
 
 " Oh, lady Victoria can be at no loss for 
 the meaning, although I see she has bene- 
 fitted so well by the example and council 
 of her artful governess, that she can act a 
 part most naturally." 
 
 " Bianca, dare not to cast a ray of reflex- 
 c 2
 
 28 
 
 ion upon that most amiable of women. 
 The unwarrantable insolencies you level at 
 me I can listen to unmoved ; but beware 
 how you presume to shock my ears by the 
 smallest insinuation against my parent, my 
 friend; lest I go instantly to my aunt with a 
 just complaint of your unpardonable con- 
 duct." 
 
 *' Lady Victoria chooses to forget her 
 being my prisoner : but had 1 not orders to 
 confine her, the duchessa would not see her, 
 for she has made a vow never more to ad- 
 mit that amiable joung lady into her pre* 
 
 sence." 
 
 "Not see me!" exclaimed Victoria, in 
 an agony of grief; '* never mare admit me 
 into her presence ! What^ my aunt, my 
 guardian, treat me with this unmerited 
 cruelty J Impossible !'* 
 
 ^^ The duchessa di Manfredonia never 
 forms a resolution without well considering 
 the whys and the wherefores 5 and the mo- 
 ment my sister signora Bernini arrives, you 
 go from hence into that confinement the 
 duchessa thinks you so justly rnerit." 
 
 Victoria arose from her seat with all the
 
 29 
 
 dignity of Injured innocence; her proud 
 heart rose indignant at her aunt's unjusti^ 
 fiable and unprovoked unkindness, and 
 dried at once the source of tears. She 
 wiped from her lovely face the trace of 
 every tear; and though her heart bled, her 
 bosom heaved not a sigh. ** Oh Alphonso," 
 said she, as she walked with clasped hands 
 tip and down her apartment, " now, now 
 do I miss your fraternal care, your soothing 
 friendship! Were you still near me, I 
 should not be thus insulted; deprived of 
 those that loved me ; condemned unheard, 
 unknowing my offence ; and sent like a guilty 
 culprit from the protection of my guar- 
 dian." 
 
 *' Whilst you merited her protection, 
 you had it/' said Bianca, in a half whisper 
 to her amazed companions. 
 
 Victoria turned precipitately round, and 
 extending her hand towards the door, 
 calmly, but determinately, spoke: "Bianca," 
 she said, "quit these apartments. I am the 
 daughter of conte Ariosto, and you are too 
 presumptuous. 1 shall myself give orders to 
 these respectable women for what 1 choose 
 c 3
 
 30 
 
 to take with me. Go; and when my con- 
 ductors are arrived I shall be ready, with- 
 out your interference, to attend them to 
 that spot the duchessa di Manfredonia 
 has chosen for the prison of her injured 
 neice." 
 
 The dignity of birth and conscious worth 
 awed the insolent Bianca, who, without 
 daring to demur, silently slunk away. Vic- 
 toria threw herself into a seat, and soon 
 was lost in melancholy meditations, from 
 which she was at length roused by Bianca, 
 who informed her, that every thing was 
 ready for her departure, which instantly 
 must take place. 
 
 Victoria, summoning all the force of for- 
 titude she could command, arose with firm- 
 ness, and followed Bianca. The pride of 
 injured innocence supporting her through 
 the severe trial, she did not shed a tear, or 
 betray the least symptom of emotion, as she 
 passed along those apartments in which she 
 had spent days of peace and happiness that 
 seemed now, to her, to be gone for ever. 
 Through part of the shrubbery Bianca led 
 her to a private door, at which the coach
 
 SI 
 
 waited to convey her away. Close to the 
 door she unfortunately encountered a myrtle 
 which Alphonso and herself had together 
 planted in their days of childhood, now 
 flourishing full in blossom ; at sight of it her 
 firmness fled at once ; hastily she snatched 
 a branch, and, weeping piteously over it, 
 she threw herself, quite subdued, into the 
 carriage, which soon rapidly moved from 
 ihe chateau of conte Vicenza. 
 
 c 4
 
 52. 
 
 CHAP. Ill; 
 
 In the Goach were two females; but Vic- 
 toria's affliction was too poignant to allow 
 her to observe them, or the road they were 
 travelling. A total silence therefore pre^ 
 vailed, broken only by Victoria's sobs and 
 sighs, whilst they proceeded some leagues 
 south of Paris ; but at length one of her 
 companions broke the gloomy pause, in a 
 soft compassionate voice. 
 
 " I am truly grieved to see lady Victoria 
 in such affliction ; but let her be comforted, 
 for her separation from the duchessa, she 
 may rest assured, will not be long} nor is 
 the place we are destined to so very dis* 
 agreeable. It certainly is a very long and 
 fatiguing journey to the convent of San Jago 
 at Granollers in Catalonia, and crossing the 
 Pyrenees may be a little unpleasant ; but, 
 when arrived at San Jago, we shall find a 
 cheerful society, even within the convent's 
 walls s and the domina, I am informed.
 
 S3 
 
 although a Spaniard, is a lively as well as an 
 agreeable woman.*' 
 
 The moment the sound of sympathy 
 reached Victoria's ears, she raised her eyes, 
 and found herself instantly prepossessed in 
 favour of the speaker, who, although Bi- 
 .nca's sister, was really a deserving wo- 
 man. An Italian by birth, she had, upon 
 the death of her parents, followed Bianca 
 into France, in a few years after the du- 
 chessa had removed there ; and in a short 
 time this signora Octavia became the wife 
 of a Neapolitan musician who was settled 
 at Paris, and who obtained a very com- 
 fortable subsistence for himself and family 
 by public engagements and private pupils ; 
 but as they had a numerous family, his 
 wife, signora Bernini, readily agreed to her 
 sister's application to her for attending Vic- 
 toria into Spain ; for although the under* 
 taking so long a journey, at only a mo- 
 ment's notice, was extremely inconvenient 
 to her, she thought that to oblige the du- 
 chessa di Manfredonia might prove of fu- 
 ture advantage to her beloved husband 
 and children, for whose sakes the amiable 
 c 5
 
 34 
 Octavia was ever ready to sacrifice her own 
 comforts. She was at this period in her 
 thirty-ninth year, and had in her counte- 
 nance a sweetness of expression blended 
 with that of.intelh'gence, excessively pre- 
 possessing. 
 
 " If you are to continue with me, ma- 
 dam," rephed Victoria, with a mournful 
 smile, '^ I shall not feel quite unhappy." 
 
 Octavia, bowing, 5aid, '^ she was to have 
 the honour and pleasure of remaining about 
 a month at San Jago with lady Victoria/* 
 
 As the very long interval of silencehad been 
 at lalt broken by her superiors, Victoria'* 
 other companion (whom she now observed 
 was Hero, the youngest of the duchessa's 
 women) ventured in her turn to speak. 
 
 " As to the convent/^ said she, *' I hope, 
 for the sake of the poor unfortunates im- 
 mured in it, that it is exactly as you de- 
 scribe it to be, signoraj but as far as it 
 concerns lady Victoria and her attendants, 
 I trust it is of little consequence what it is^ 
 since certain I am we shall never be per- 
 mitted to reach' that burial place of the 
 living. You must excuse me, signora, but
 
 35 
 I hope never to be known to the domina of 
 San Jago, lively and amiable as she may be, 
 since a convent is of all places in the v^orld 
 the very last I should v^ish to go to, having 
 from my very cradle a most unaccountable 
 antipathy to those desperate old churlish 
 places : and here I should not now sit so 
 contentedly, only that I every moment ex* 
 .pect the conte Urbino with a reprieve." 
 
 Victoria looked amazed ; and signora 
 Bernini demanded who the conte Urb'ino 
 was?'* 
 
 " A nephew of my lord's/' replied Hero, 
 " a sister's son ; and who, although he is 
 ve?y, very handsome, is sadly, sadly poor. 
 In short, signora, he has nothing but what 
 my lord Vincenza gives him -, and I hope, 
 upon lady Victoria's account, he may leave 
 him all he is worth." 
 
 ^' Why, Hero, upon my account?" 
 
 " Lady Victoria will not, I trust, be of- 
 fended with us domestics for finding the 
 secret out; but though short the timo-since 
 my lord brought conte Urbino to the cha- 
 teau, we could see what a favourite he is of 
 the duchessa 3 we therefore concluded she
 
 S6 
 
 means him for the husband of her ward ^ 
 particularly as the young conte is known to 
 be so desperately in love with lady Victo- 
 
 ria." 
 
 ** Impossible, Hero, as we have never 
 yet seen each other ^ for since the arrival of 
 conte Urbino at the chateau, I have not ap- 
 peared in company ; and whenever he paid 
 his respects to the duchessa in her own 
 apartment, she had some particular reasons 
 foi* not allowing me to be present." 
 
 " Yes, we all know the duchessa's rea- 
 son. The comte de Montfort was ever the 
 companion of coi;ite Urbino in those visits;, 
 and comte de Montfort makes no secret of 
 the violence of his passion for lady Victoria^ 
 although she has so often and so firmly re- 
 jected his suit." 
 
 " After my having done so, the duchessa 
 knew it could not be agreeable to either of 
 XLS to meet in so small a party." 
 
 *' No, no," said the flippant attendant, 
 with a significant nod of her head, " the 
 duchessa could not bear that he should have 
 any opportunity of seeing lady Victoria,
 
 3T 
 
 whom he still persists in preferring to her- 
 self." 
 
 " Hero !'* exclaimed Victoria indignant- 
 ly, '' attempt not to throw any reflexions' 
 upon my aunt, for be assured I will not 
 listen to or permit them/" 
 
 '^ I east no reflexions upon the duchessa, 
 whom lady Victoria forgets is an Italian 
 lady J and though not now in her own 
 country, it is surely no wonder that she 
 should continue the customs of it; and 
 every one must allow she could not have 
 a handsomer cicisbeo than young de Mont- 
 fort." 
 
 *^ Nay," said Bernini, "I should not only 
 think it a wonder, but extremely reprehen- 
 sible, to continue in another country the 
 bad customs which fashion only can tole- 
 rate in our own ; and even in Italy I have 
 known women of the highest rank who never 
 adopted the (I think inexcusable) custom of 
 cicisbeoism." 
 
 " No handsome Italian married woman 
 ever was without a cicisbeo, I positively 
 affirm," replied Hero tartly.
 
 58 
 
 " And I as positively deny your libel,'* 
 returned Octavia, good humouredly. 
 " Young as you were, signora Hero, when 
 you quitted your native country, you yet 
 must remember the fame of the contessa 
 Ariosto's transcendent beauty ; and she was 
 too firmly attached to her amiable lord, too 
 firmly attached to every principle that could 
 make a woman estimable, ever to adopt 
 a custom which, at best, gives an appear- 
 ance of impropriety which the truly pure 
 mind must revolt from." 
 
 " You knew my mother then, madam," 
 replied our heroine, with a smile of celes- 
 tial sweetness ; whilst a tear of regret for the 
 parent lost, and of gratitude for the just tri- 
 bute paid to her worth, trembled in her 
 eyes. 
 
 " I had the happiness of knowing a great 
 deal of that excellent young lady, by often 
 spending weeks together with my sister 
 Bianca at conte Ariosto's castle in Tuscany, 
 before the lady Elvira's marriage with the 
 duca di Manfredonia." 
 
 *^ Certainly," said Hero, " I well re- 
 member, both in Italy and in this country.
 
 39 
 to have often heard of the almost heavenly 
 beauty of the contessa Ariosto, which sur- 
 passed my lady's far; and which, it is 
 thought, was the reason why my lady had 
 such a deadly hatred to her, and was so 
 rejoiced when that amiable young lady 
 died." 
 
 " My aunt bear deadly hatred to my 
 mother ! my aunt rejoice when my sainted 
 mother died ! ! — impossible ! impossible !'* 
 exclaimed Victoria, pale and trembling with 
 horror and amazement. 
 
 ^^ Lady Victoria may well shudder at such 
 a shocking, unnatural thing ; which is but too 
 true. Indeed many people account for it by 
 the astonishing, nay almost unprecedented, 
 likeness the contessa bore to her cousin the 
 duca di Manfredonia's first wife, whom my 
 lady has some dreadful cause of enmity to; 
 for, it is a known fact, she never hears the 
 name of that lady, or of any thing relating 
 to her, without evincing, in spite of every 
 effort to conceal them, emotions of the 
 most violent nature, expressive of envy, 
 unsubdued malice, and a thousand bad pas- 
 
 sions."
 
 40 
 
 These were dreadful traits in her aunt's 
 disposition, which Victoria had never be- 
 fore heard of; and, inexpressibly shocked, 
 she had not power to rebuke Hero for such 
 aspersions; but falling into a sad and pain- 
 ful musing upon the possibility of such hor- 
 rid intelligence being true, she so fervently 
 wished to find her aunt innocent, that she 
 hushed every suspicion which arose in her 
 mind against her, and at length persuaded 
 herself into a belief that Hero only spoke 
 the calumny of the duchessa*s enemies; and 
 signora Bernini,, distressed at the disagree- 
 able subject given to Victoria's thoughts, 
 and wishing to lead them to something 
 more pleasing, asked Hero at last, with 
 a jocund air, *' How conte Urbino contrived 
 to become so desperately enamoured of a 
 lady whom he had never seen ?" 
 
 *^ Rather ask, signora,** replied Hero, 
 ** how he contrived to see the lady, a hun- 
 dred and a hundred times, without her 
 knowing it.** 
 
 " These wee, indeed, wonderful contri* 
 
 vances.*
 
 41 
 
 *• But very true, nevertheless : and more 
 than that, signora, lady Victoria has con- 
 versed with him/* 
 
 " More wonderful still V^ 
 
 <* And yet tis true, signora. My brother 
 Hugo is the conte's valet, and he has often 
 made nie laugh with accounts of all the 
 pranks his lord has played to get a sight of 
 lady Victoria, unknown to conte Vicenza, 
 'who has other views for his nephew, as it 
 should seem by the uneasiness he has always 
 shown at the idea of their meeting 5 but the 
 young conte, hearing so much of the beauty 
 of lady Victoria, was so anxious to see her, 
 that one evening when she went, attended 
 by signora Farinelli, to the baron de Har- 
 court's, to dance with the young ladies, he 
 and Hugo, disguising themselves as Savoy- 
 ards, were admitted among the musicians^ 
 and played for her all the time she danced. 
 —Then lady Victoria next went to a mas- 
 querade at the baron*s." 
 
 " Yes,'* said Victoria, who was now suf- 
 ficiently roused from her reverie to join in 
 the conversation j *' but the baroness only
 
 42 
 gave It for the amusement of her children, 
 or I should not have been there j and there 
 were none but girls at it." 
 
 ** The baroness thought so, but for all 
 that conte Urbino was there as an Amazon, 
 and talked a great deal to lady Victoria. 
 And it is only a very few evenings ago that 
 he and Hugo exhibited a galante-show in 
 lady Victoria's apartments, when she had 
 madame d'Alembert's children with her.*' 
 
 Victoria was in real astonishment at what 
 she heard ; and signora Octavia demanded 
 the reason Hero had for expecting conte 
 Urbino to rescue them from conventual 
 horrors. 
 
 " Dear me, signora ! do you think a man 
 so much enamoured as he is will allow his 
 idol to be entombed in a monastery, with- 
 out his making any effort to prevent it. He 
 was unfortunately inveigled to the chace 
 this morning by the comte de Montfort, 
 and was not returned when we came away; 
 but Hugo was waiting impatiently for his 
 arrival, to tell him tidings that will almost 
 break his heart : so 1 know he will not lose 
 an instant in exerting his influence (which
 
 ' 43 
 is very great) over the ducbessa, to allow 
 him to follovi^ lady Victoria, and escort her 
 back to the dear chateau.** 
 
 " Alas," said Victoria, mournfully, *' why 
 should I require any advocate with my aunt 
 but justice and affection. This conte Ur- 
 bino, madam," particularly addressing si- 
 gnora Bernini, "I hear is extremely amiable, 
 every way deserving of the partialities he 
 has inspired; but it is now little more than 
 than a month since his uncle presented him 
 to the duchessa as his intended heir; and 
 in that short period he has stolen so far into 
 the affections of my aunt, as to give birth to 
 a supposition that he possessed influence 
 over her which my distresses could not 
 awaken. I trust I am not of a jealous or 
 envious disposition, yet I own I feel hurt, 
 keenly hurt, at this. I should require no 
 advocate but the feelings of my own heart, 
 to urge me to forgive the late unkindness of 
 my aunt." 
 
 Victoria now wept abundantly. Signora 
 Octavia strove to comfort her by every 
 means which good sense and benevolence 
 inspired ; while Hero would have quieted
 
 44 
 
 the agitation of her mind, by positive assur-' 
 ranees of conte Urbino and Hugo soon ar- 
 riving to conduct them back to the chateau 
 of conte Vicenza. But vain were all her 
 efforts to inspire Victoria, with these hopesy 
 which she so firmly entertained ; and Vic- 
 toria continued full of mental sadness, not- 
 withstanding the beauties of the country, as 
 they passed through the southern province of 
 France, called forth at times her momentary 
 admiration, — and, in despite of her melan- 
 choly, the prospects presented to their view, 
 in their ascent of the Pyrenees, frequently 
 possessed the power of charming her from 
 the contemplation of her own unhappy si- 
 tuation*^
 
 45 
 
 CHAP. IVJ 
 
 Since it is not a tour we are attempting to 
 write, our readers will not expect a parti- 
 cular account of all the places our travel- 
 lers passed through and stopped ^t for rest 
 and refreshment in this compulsatory jour- 
 ney ; and whichj by orders of Uiuse whom the 
 attendants thought themselves compelled to 
 obey, was performed with such a degree of 
 expedition, as would have precluded the 
 possibility of our heroine indulging in the 
 laudable curiosity of viewing every thing 
 worthy of observation as she passed through 
 such an extent of country, even had her 
 mind been sufficiently tranquil to form such 
 a wish. 
 
 Without accident or alarm of any kind 
 they at length gained the summit of the Py- 
 renees, and with a heavy heart Victoria en- 
 tered Spain, although it was then the resi- 
 dence of Alphonso; but he was with his re- 
 giment at Cadiz, in Andaiusia, expecting
 
 46 
 
 every moment to embark upon some secret 
 expedition against the interest of Great 
 Britain, and she therefore knew it was next 
 to an impossibility that she should see him, 
 or inform him of her situation, in time for 
 any step to be taken for her relief or con- 
 solation. 
 
 The barren appearance of the country as 
 they descended the mountains gave birth 
 to many gloomy apprehensions which they 
 had not experienced in France; but these 
 fears were in some measure lulled by the out- 
 riders assuring signora Octavia that they 
 were sufficiently armed and prepared to re- 
 pel the attack of any banditti that could 
 molest them. It was past sun-set, and the 
 dusk of evening was gliding faster into the 
 darker shades of night, when, having en- 
 tered an extensive valley at the foot of the 
 Pyrenees, the carriage suddenly struck out 
 of the main road into a winding path 
 through a thick and gloomy forest. Victo- 
 ria and Hero 'felt new alarms; whilst Oc- 
 tavia, more accustomed to travelling, ap- 
 peared perfectly composed, until the rising 
 of the moon, which hi some degree be-
 
 47 
 
 calmed the fears of her companions, first 
 awakened hers, by its bright beams, which 
 now and then penetrated through the thick 
 foliage of the wood, discovering to her that 
 the road they were slowly passing over was 
 an unbeaten turf, that bore not the vestage 
 of a single wheel, or any trace whatever of 
 being frequented. Instantly concluding the 
 drivers had mistaken the way, she hastened 
 to inform them of her supposition. For 
 some time they obstinately asserted they 
 were in the right road to Buscara, and Vic- 
 toria thought all contention with them vain ; 
 but signora Bernini now convinced that 
 there was some collusion between the postil- 
 lions and a banditti, roused at once all the 
 spirit she was mistress of, declared she 
 would not be trifled with, and commanded 
 the attendants immediately to compel the 
 drivers to turn back to the last inn they had 
 stopped at near the foot of the Pyrenees. 
 
 Grumbling at an order which they consi- 
 dered so unreasonable, the attendants were 
 proceeding slowly to obey, when the sound 
 of many horses' feet against the rocky soil 
 suddenly assailed their ears, Victoria was
 
 4S 
 alarmed, and Octavia by no means devoid 
 of serious apprehension; but Hero was 
 almost frantic with joy, as she had no doubt 
 of its being conte Urbino and attendants 
 coming to conduct them back to France. 
 
 The horses drew nearer and still nearer, 
 when the out-riders in consternation-declared 
 the approach of a numerous banditti, which 
 they instantly prepared to engage with. In 
 .one moment more the coach was surround- 
 ed by a band of armed ruffians; and the 
 loud clashing of swords, and the continued 
 discharge of carabines, announced to the 
 trembling and terror-struck females the im- 
 minence and magnitude of their danger ; and 
 scarcely had they time to offer up prayers 
 to heaven for succour, when the coach door 
 was thrown open by the victorious banditti, 
 and they, almost expiring with well-ground- 
 ed apprehensions, dragged from the carriage, 
 and each tied to the back of a ruffian on 
 horse back, the appearance alone of whom, 
 without the aid of other circumstances, 
 would have proved sufficient to extinguish 
 the flame of courage in more heroic minds. 
 Hero's wild shrieks were soon silenced
 
 49 
 
 by her grim conductor, who coolly informed 
 her he should shoot her through the head 
 if she did not instantly cease. Resistance 
 Victoria and Octavia were without power of 
 offering, even could resistance avail. De- 
 voutly they consigned themselves to the 
 care of heaven ; but even their pious reli- 
 ance upon that Being who is the protector of 
 the friendless was scarcely sufficient to sup- 
 port their fainting spirits w^hen the ruffians 
 rode off with them into the most intricate 
 part of the forest. 
 
 The moon was now completely obscured, 
 and scarcely a ray of light could penetrate 
 through the surrounding gloom. Along nar- 
 row, winding, and uneven paths, these ruffians 
 rode, until, cautiously descending a sudden 
 and steep declivity, our three dismayed fe- 
 males found themselves at the brink of a 
 rapid stream, where a boat and some more 
 ruffians were waiting: into the boat were 
 they hurried, and six oars pHed by those 
 ruffians glided them swiftly along. 
 
 Again the moon broke forth in all her 
 splendor, displaying in full force the gloomy 
 horrors of the scenery. For about half a quar- 
 
 VOL, I. D
 
 50 
 ter of a league rocks of an astonishing height 
 bounded the stream on one side, and on the 
 other a lofty and almost impenetrable wood. 
 At length the wood was suddenly lost, and 
 they were enveloped by stupendous black 
 rocks, which seemed to threaten every mo- 
 ment to fall in heavy vengeance upon them, 
 often almost closing at top for a length of 
 way together, precluding every ray of light, 
 save what a lantern in the boat afforded; 
 and very frequently the helmsman seemed 
 to encounter no trifling share of difficulty in 
 navigating the boat with safety through 
 this most perplexed labyrinth of rocks. 
 
 At length, after an intricate and danger- 
 ous navigation, they approached the mouth 
 of an immense and hideous cavern; the ex- 
 ternal of which, on the instant it was beheld, 
 annihilating every idea in the mind of the 
 dismayed spectator but that of its leading to 
 immediate destruction. Into it the boat 
 now glided, with only the feeble rays of a 
 lantern to light them through this dark and 
 apparently illimitable place; and where the 
 mournful echo of the lofty vaulted roof, 
 made clearer by the influence of the water
 
 51 
 beneath, resounded the strokes of the oars 
 terrifically upon the beating hearts of our 
 fear-chilled captives. 
 
 For about half an hour the boat proceed- 
 ed slowly: an awfully horrid silence pre- 
 vailed, interrupted only by the convulsive 
 sobs and half stifled cries of Hero. At 
 length a distant ray of light glanced feebly 
 on the water: it was not the light of hea- 
 ven; it seemed like reflected fire, and, bright- 
 ening and increasing as they advanced, 
 added horror to horror by discovering all 
 the terrors of the place. The eye now 
 reaching the boundary of the cavern, be- 
 held in its concave architecture figures of 
 fantastic formation, which, seen in light and 
 shade, and varying their appearances as the 
 boat moved on, seemed like grim spectres 
 floating in the air; whilst the water, left 
 in one mass of shadow, was seen as a black 
 unfathomable gulf, on the surface of which 
 the light now played in sanguinary rays like 
 flames of liquid fire. 
 
 Hero, casting her eyes around in wild dis- 
 may, fell at once into a swoon. 'Bernini, 
 with a soul harrowed up by terror,^ sat mo- 
 D2 .^_
 
 52 
 
 tionless in the sad stupor of horrid amaze- 
 ment and despair; while Victoria, shudder- 
 ing and appalled by what she saw; and all 
 she apprehended, sunk upon her 'knees, 
 and, as the only hope she had left, in defi- 
 ance of the stern interdict from speaking, 
 fervently and audibly consigned herself and 
 two hapless companions to the protection 
 of heaven, imploring from its mercy for- 
 titude to bear, as she ought, those trials 
 it might judge proper to inflict upon her. 
 
 Benefiting by the ligbt, the boat passed 
 more swiftly on, and at last they entered a 
 recess which formed a kind of harbour, that 
 seemed the termination of the cavern. Its 
 roof was low; and awinding staircase met the 
 edge of the water, where half a dozen more 
 ruffians, bearing each a torch (which emit- 
 ted the I'ght that guided the helmsman and 
 terrified the captives), were waiting the ar- 
 rival of the boat, which they soon hauled 
 close to the steps. 
 
 Victoria and Octavia were first lifted out 
 of the boat ; but both, subdued by ago- 
 nising terrors, were unable to support them- 
 selves, and sunk against some of the pro-
 
 53 
 
 jections of the rock ; when the boatmen, 
 seeing they were unable to walk, bore. them, 
 as well as Hero, in their arms, preceded by 
 the torch-bearers, up winding ascents, 
 through ~ narrow passages, trap-doors, and 
 strange-formed iron works, into an immense 
 kitchen of Gothic or rather Saracen archi- 
 tecture, where a deformed and melancholy- 
 looking old woman v>'as employed, as they 
 entered, in washing the stain of blood from 
 a table and the floor. 
 
 Victoria and Bernini were placed in arm 
 chairs i — Hero on a table, being still insensi- 
 ble. 
 
 "Why," said the old woman petulantly, 
 ** Why do you bring your dead bodies litter- 
 ing here, Juan r" 
 
 " We left all the ^ame we killed to nisrht 
 behind us in the forest," replied one of the 
 meui "so put on your spectacles, mistress 
 Teresa, and you will then see that this is not 
 a corse yet." 
 
 " More is the pity T* returned Teresa : 
 " Poor young woman! was she my child, I 
 should pray to heaven to close her eyes for 
 ever." 
 
 D3
 
 54 
 
 " You would, would you I*' answered the 
 man, grinning: ''that is a good one, d — m 
 me; and the young woman would be much 
 obliged to you for your kind prayers : but 
 if I mistake not, if the wench could speak, 
 she would not cry amen to it." 
 
 Victoria and signora Bernini were in a 
 situation of mind that our feeble pen is un- 
 able to describe ; and so completely were 
 they subdued by their agonising apprehen- 
 sions, they had no power to offer that assis- 
 tance to Hero which humanity would else 
 have inspired; and the ruffians, totally re- 
 gardless of the state they had terrified her 
 into, were hastening away, when the old 
 woman desired Juan to remain where he 
 was. 
 
 "I shall do no such thing,'* replied Juan, 
 savagely: "after such a wearisome scuffle 
 I think it is high time to go and get some- 
 thing to recruit my spirits." 
 
 "Ay/* cried Teresa, " scuffle or no scuffle 
 you are always ready for gambling and 
 carousing; but I now tell you that it is 
 Don Manuel's orders that you should assist 
 Diego and me in the domestic business.**
 
 55 
 
 Juan, muttering his discontent, suffered 
 his companions to depart without him ; and - 
 then singeing the feathers of a fowFs wing, 
 he applied it to Hero's nose, while Teresa 
 besprinkled her well with water ; and both 
 remedies had such good effect, that Hero 
 soon recovered from her fit, when her sur- 
 charged feelings found relief by tears. 
 
 Teresa now turned her attention upon the 
 other two dismayed strangers; and particu- 
 larly addressing Victoria, the sadness of her 
 features were beguiled by pity into the sem- 
 blance of a cheering smile. " Do not be so 
 dreadfully alarmed, dear donna," said she; 
 '' do not tremble so ; do not fear. Although 
 there was a very cruel murder committed 
 not three hours since in the exact spot 
 where you are now sitting, 1 dare venture 
 to say no evil will betide you, at least for 
 the present. Come Juan, a glass of wine 
 will do the poor souls no harm." 
 
 Juan produced a fiask of wine, gave each 
 of the captives a glass- full, and at one 
 draught took the rest himself; and then, in 
 a better humour, began to display his wit ^ 
 the expense of poor Teresa, who took all 
 D4
 
 56 
 in good humour; and although they^ as well 
 as every one our hapless captives had heard 
 speak since they fell into the hands of the 
 banditti, conversed in Spanish, they were 
 perfectly understood by Victoria, v/ho was 
 complete mistress of that language; and 
 signora Octavia and Hero, from being na- 
 tives of Italy, and from having, by a long 
 residence in France, acquired a thorough 
 knowledge of the French language, found 
 themselves by no means at a loss to compre- 
 hend what was said, or afterwards to make 
 themselves comprehended. At length Te- 
 resa desired Juan to go with her up stairs, 
 that she might prepare an apartment for the 
 strangers. 
 
 " If I do ril be d d r replied Juan. 
 
 " Nay, but you must ; for I dare as soon 
 think of attempting my escape from hence 
 as go into the north wing alone, since Don 
 Manuel has ordered me not to do it." 
 
 " That order was owing to your being a 
 woman, and therefore full of devilish curio- 
 sity. But come, if I must go with you, old 
 hunchback, let us begone." 
 
 They both now departed ; and as soon as
 
 57 
 they were gone, Victoria, wTio before had 
 feared to move her eyes from the first object 
 they had rested upon, ventured to turn them 
 in expressive sadness upon Octavia, who, . 
 in a faint and tremulous tone, broke silence. 
 " We are indeed in a hapless situation, 
 lady Victoria." 
 
 Victoria sighed, and Hero sobbed acqui- 
 escence. At this moment the sound of 
 many feet and the murmur of men's voices 
 broke upon their ears, issuing, as it seemed 
 to them, from some apartment at no great 
 distance ; in a moment more and they heard 
 the most violent peals of laughter, and 
 shortly after the discordant din of various 
 songs, roared out in many voices, with little 
 less than Bacchanalian phrensy. Victoria, 
 unable to express all the horrors which at 
 that moment tortured her pure and spotless 
 •heart, grasped the hand of Octavia with 
 convulsive agony. 
 
 " May heaven preserve us from such so- 
 ciety !" exclaimed Bernini, perfectly compre- 
 hending the eloquent gestures of our he- 
 roine. *' Let us hope, dear young lady, that 
 such a dreadful fate does not await us : let 
 D 5
 
 58 
 
 us confide in the goodness of all-righteous 
 Providence" 
 
 ^' who alone can protect the innocent 
 
 m this infernal castle," was audibly repeated 
 by a deep and hollow voice, filling at once 
 the whole immense kitchen j nor could the 
 nicest ear be directed to any particular spot, 
 in supposition that it was from thence it had 
 proceeded. The distended eyes of Vic- 
 toria, Octavia, and Hero, wandered wist- 
 fully around in dreadful fear and amazement, 
 but nothing could they see. An awful 
 pause continued for several moments 3 — at 
 length Octavia tremulously articulated, 
 ** Saint Boscoi defend us! What can this 
 mean ?'* 
 
 '*To inspire us with that courage and 
 fortitude which a firm reliance upon the 
 Almighty only can give," replied Victoria, 
 with awe and piety strongly delineated upon 
 every line of her expressive countenance; 
 
 •*Alas! alas r* convulsively sobbed out 
 Hero, "how could the duchessa have the 
 cruel heart to send us into such a shocking 
 country as this, to fall into such a dreadful 
 place, where murderers stalk about in
 
 59 
 all we see, and where the very walls have 
 ears, and the air we breathe tongues? Alas! 
 alas ! it is too surely a judgment upon me 
 for my wicked and irreverend antipathy to 
 convents. Oh ! how do I wish that we 
 were all safely lodged in one, even the worst 
 of them, this moment." 
 
 In dreadful comments upon, and mourn- 
 ful lamentations for, their hapless situation, 
 the three dismayed captives passed the horrid 
 interval until Teresa and Juan returned, who 
 began busily to cook and prepare for supper.
 
 60 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 " I wonder/* said Teresa, '' that my ma- 
 ster has any stomach for food to-night : I 
 should have thought the dish of blood and 
 brains he has already had would have been 
 supper enough for. him." 
 
 " Pish," replied Juan, " you think like 
 what you are — an old fool. Blood is no new 
 sight to him; and 1 shall eat my supper with 
 a good appetite I warrant, although I have 
 sent more than one soul post to hell this 
 night. There was warm work in the forest. 
 Your attendants fought hard, ladies, and 
 died bravely.^* 
 
 This shocking intelligence, and the de- 
 pravity of the boasting murderer, harrowed 
 up the very souls of Victoria and Octavia ; 
 while Hero, now deprived of all reason, in 
 fancy beheld the weapon of death levelled 
 at her, and upon her knees vehemently im- 
 plored Juan to spare her life.
 
 61 
 
 " Is the wench mad ?'* said he, staring 
 at her; then, familiarly patting her cheek, 
 continued, " Do you think that we don't 
 know better than to put a pretty young 
 woman to death ? No, no ; they are trea- 
 sures so seldom seen in this castle, that we 
 know how to prize them." 
 
 The few remaining particles of Victoria's 
 firmness now Hed at once; she fainted, and 
 fell back in her chair unobserved. 
 
 Hero*s long absconded courage now re- 
 turned, upon her being assured she was not 
 to suffer death ; and in a tone of hysteric 
 joy and affectation she exclaimed, " Oh, 
 dear sir, I am sure you flatter me when you 
 call me pretty, for certainly I am not now 
 fit to be looked at ; for terror is a great 
 enemy to beauty ; and I have been so fright- 
 ened, and have shed so many tears, I must 
 be quite unlike myself: for people have pre- 
 tended before now to call me handsome, 
 and have told me of many conquests I have 
 made ; but indeed I do not believe it," 
 
 "No, nor I either,'* cried Teresa- pee- 
 vishly ; " no man in his senses could admire 
 such a light prating fool."
 
 62 
 
 At that moment a man entered the 
 kitchen appareled like Juan and the other 
 men, but bv his air and manner commanding 
 more respect. He appeared to be about thir- 
 ty-six or seven; tall, and remarkably well 
 formed. His countenance, at once fine and 
 strongly marked, seemed to have suffered 
 much from care, toil, and the rays of a burn- 
 ing sun. His hair was dark, and, parting in 
 the centre, fell in graceful v^aves on each side 
 his forehead, giving to that an appearance 
 of ingenuousness which his brow apparently 
 contradicted j for on that a sternness, or 
 you might almost say ferocity, sat, which, 
 however, an accurate observer would feel 
 inclined to believe placed there by habit ra- 
 ther than by nature. 
 
 '* What is the matter, Teresa ?'* said he> 
 in a deep-toned voice, as he came in. 
 
 " Matter enough, Diego, to put one out 
 of patience,*' replied she. " What do you 
 think of that silly wench, who ought to be 
 terror-struck and breaking her heart at being 
 brought here, or praying devoutly to heaven 
 for protection, is prating away about her 
 beauty and her lovers ; but I think she can't
 
 63 
 boast much of her discretion that chatters 
 so to such a one as Juan, and encourages 
 the young man to think lightly of her from 
 her flippancy ; and, all the time, no one 
 would give her a second look when that 
 young donna is present, who sits there quite 
 unconscious of her own great beauty"—— 
 
 *^ As she is of every thing else at pre- 
 sent," said Diego, first perceiving the situ- 
 ation of our heroine J and, hastening to her 
 relief, was assisted by Octavia, Teresa, and 
 Juan, in using every means for her recovery, 
 which was at length effected to the manifest 
 Joy of all, even of the savage Diego and Juan j 
 — so resistless are the charms of beauty, 
 when influenced by the pure sweetness of 
 innocence and virtue. 
 
 The men soon after departed to lay the 
 cloth for supper J and Teresa, anxious to 
 calm the too evident terrors of the young 
 donna, began for that purpose to~ expatiate 
 upon all the comforts she was likely to meet 
 with in her captivity. 
 
 "This castle," said she, " is a fine, mag- 
 nificent, although a very terrible place, 
 donna. It is almost a^ old as the creation.
 
 64 
 
 I verily believe ; for it w^as built by one of 
 our Catalonian princes, as a garrison for 
 himself and his most faithful adherents, in 
 the times of the Saracens invading this coun- 
 try ; and it is full of all sorts of horrible 
 hiding-places, and secret doors and pas- 
 sages, for the concealment of this prince's 
 treasure and people ; although the castle 
 was built in such a situation, amongst rocks 
 and rivers, that it was thought next to an 
 impossibility to find it out ; and withall 
 so wonderfully fortified by nature and art, 
 that it was deemed impregnable : and while 
 this prince lived, it remained undiscovered 
 or unsubdued (i do not know which), and 
 was an asylum for many people both religi- 
 ous and others : but after this great prince's 
 death, and that the Saracens got possession 
 of this kingdom, this castle by some means 
 fell into the hands of those infidels, who 
 converted it into a prison, and invented all 
 sorts of places and instruments of torture 
 and cruelty to destroy the poor Christians 
 that fell into their barbarous hands: and 
 now, though the castle has fallen to other 
 (not better) masters, the troubled spirits of
 
 65 
 
 those poor murdered Christians overrun it, 
 lying hid in all the secret places, waiting 
 for every opportunity of terrifying all the 
 living with their noises, appearances, and 
 vanishings : and the rats, too, are often 
 as troublesome as the spirits, and nearly 
 scare me as much — and they are both pretty 
 numerous, I am sorry to say, in the room I 
 have been ordered to prepare for you. Ah ! 
 there is some sad mystery about that cham- 
 beri for often on the floor is the appearance 
 of new-shed blood sprinkled. Scour it 
 away to-day, and it will appear again to- 
 morrow ; yet no one can account for it, or 
 tell from whence it comes. Well, well, 
 well, it is no matter ; but I shall never for- 
 get my terror and grief when I was first 
 brought here j and often I quake for fear 
 now, although it is many and many a long 
 year since I was dragged hither, where I 
 have remained a prisoner ever since, and have 
 seen many a sight that would make a stout- 
 er heart than mine tremble : yet for all that 
 Don Manuel is a good master ; we live well, 
 and want for no comfort but liberty and to 
 see our friends, or hear whether they are
 
 66 
 alive or dead. Well, well, I ought not to 
 repine, for it was the will of heaven ; — but, 
 dear donna, I was torn from my good old 
 helpmate, my darling daughter, and five as- 
 sweet grand-children as you could wish to 
 have. God keep them from this place, as 
 all other harm. Well, I often think it is a 
 lucky thing that I have outlived the keen- 
 ness of my feelings 1" — and Teresa wept. 
 
 " Poor soul,*' said Victoria sadly, " your 
 fate was even more cruel than mine, for I 
 am torn from few that will feel my loss or 
 grieve at my hapless fate ;— but those few, 
 my brother, my Ursuline, and my poor Ro- 
 selia, they will long and sincerely mourni" 
 —and she burst into tears. 
 
 ** And I," said signora Octavia^ in a tone 
 of deep despair, " am torn from an affec- 
 tionate husband and seven sweet adored 
 children, whom I shall never, never, now 
 
 see more." 
 
 *' Never,** replied the comforter Teresa j 
 •^ for beyond the ramparts of this castle you 
 never more go. Escape is impossible j f 
 thought of nothing else for many months of 
 my captivity, but could not effect it, ws
 
 67 
 are so inclosed by impassable rocks and 
 waters , as the poor old negro, my master 
 shot just now, has often told me/* 
 
 " By accident the poor negro was shot, 
 I suppose," said Victoria, shuddering. 
 
 " Ah, donna, donna ! no accidental shots 
 fly here. Poor lago lived in this castle se- 
 venty-four years : he was, when quite a 
 child, brought hither by one of the former 
 owners of this horrid place -, and a faithful 
 servant or rather slave he was even to Don 
 Manuel, whom he unfortunately offended 
 this evening. The words that passed be- 
 tween them were very mysterious and very 
 dreadful ; and the fatal end was, that Don 
 Manuel, in a phrensy of rage, drew a pistol 
 from his belt, and shot my poor old fel- 
 low domestic through the head, without 
 my having power to prevent him." 
 
 At that moment Diego hastily entered. 
 " I want three more na^^kins, Teresa,** 
 said he : *' these ladies sup with Don 
 Manuel.*' 
 
 Victoria, impressed with the horror of 
 what she had just heard, uttered an invo- 
 luntary shriek.
 
 6S 
 
 " What alarms you, donna ?** said Diego, 
 with a stern frown. " I said you were to 
 eat your supper with Don Manuel, and not 
 that he was to eat you for supper." 
 
 " Don't be savage, Diego," returned Te- 
 resa, " don't be savage. It is very natural 
 for this young creature to be alarmed at 
 every thing she meets with herej but it is 
 not natural I know to you to be a ruffian." 
 
 '^ It is both natural and right/' said Die* 
 go, *' for me to comply with my master's 
 wishes, and rigidly to do my duty." 
 
 " Ah i" replied Teresa, ** before you and 
 I entered this castle, Diego, we were used 
 to see that one of the first duties considered 
 by a Christian was kindness to the unfortu- 
 nate." 
 
 ■ '^ Pshaw !" cried Diego, hastily turning 
 from her, and precipitately left the kitchen. 
 
 '*Alas!" said Teresa, *^ how evil com- 
 pany corrupts the best of us. I remember 
 Diego, when I first came here, a youth of 
 about sixteen; and although he had then 
 served a long apprenticeship to villany, his 
 heart was slow at learning the trade ; and 
 whenever he was about to engage, by his
 
 69 
 
 master's orders, in any bad project, he would 
 cry for hours together about it ; but in the 
 moment of action he was ever foremost in 
 danger; and when the mischief was over, 
 he would mope up and down the castle like 
 one troubled in mind, refusing food, and 
 spurning from him the share of spoil offered 
 to him. But by degrees this unwillingness 
 to do wrong wore away ; and since the fatal 
 moment that tore from my heart all com- 
 fort I had known in this castle, and gave 
 to Diego affliction too, he has strangely- 
 altered. To be sure sorrow has different 
 effects upon different minds : me it has soft- 
 ened almost to childish helplessness, while 
 it has hardened Diego's heart; for since 
 that black and dreadful hour he has become 
 as bad as the worst of them. But come, 
 do not be so sad, dear donna: I dare be 
 sworn Don Manuel will not have the heart 
 to harm you, cruel as he sometimes is. He 
 was in early life crossed in love, which it is 
 said changed his nature, and that he has 
 never since cared for any thing but doing 
 mischief; but perhaps a second love might 
 lead him back to virtue and humanity." -
 
 70 
 
 The expression of Teresa's countenance 
 and manner left no room to mistake the 
 wish her heart had formed ; and though it 
 was only an unrealised wish, it shot the 
 most direful pangs of horror to Victoria's 
 soul. 
 
 Supper at length was sent in, and Diego 
 respectfully informed Victoria that Don 
 Manuel expected the honour of her's and 
 the other two ladies' company. Disobedi- 
 ence to this mandate would have been a vain 
 attempt. Hero, though half afraid, adjust- 
 ed her dress. Octavia, almost expiring with 
 apprehension, tottering, left her seat; while 
 Victoria three times essayed to rise, but 
 vain was every effort ; enfeebled by terror, 
 she sunk each time into her chair sub- 
 dued. 
 
 Diego surveyed her with fixed attention 
 for a few moments, and then spoke in a 
 softened voice. " I am sorry, donna/' said 
 he, " that it is not for me to disobey the 
 orders of my master, which were to con- 
 duct you instantly to the eating room ; all I 
 can do is, to support you thither, if you will 
 deign to accept my arm.
 
 71 
 
 ^* Be not thus dismayed, donna," conti- 
 nued he, as he assisted her to rise ; " for 
 sure I am Don Manuel never can form a 
 wish for injuring you.** They moved on— 
 he proceeded. ** The ruffian's arm is not 
 the best support for innocence; though 
 mine, donna, w^as not always the arm of a 
 ruffian ; ' and then, as if suddenly correct- 
 ing himself, he turned to Juan, and sternly 
 bid him conduct the other captives.'* 
 
 Diego supported the trembling Victoria, 
 followed by her companions, through a long 
 passage lighted by one dim lamp, into an 
 immense hall of Gothic structure, where 
 hung the remains of many a Spanish as well 
 as Moorish banner. On each side were ar- 
 ranged suits of armour, black with the rust 
 of years, and many a well-battered shield, 
 with inn-umerable Moorish trophies; some 
 of which still remained i?i tolerable preserva* 
 tion, but the greater part were so much de- 
 cayed from time and neglect, that few ves- 
 tiges remained of what they once had been. 
 One lamp from the centre sent its feeble 
 glimmering rays so short a way in this exten- 
 sive place, that its extremities were left in
 
 72 
 
 total darkness ; and no door was perceived 
 by the agitated captives, until Diego threw 
 one open at the end of the hall opposite to 
 where they had entered, and discovered to 
 them a large handsome apartment, well lit 
 up, in which supper was laid, and where 
 Don Manuel, with two of his associates, 
 Garcias and Alonzo, waited their arrival. 
 
 When Diego threw the door open, he 
 withdrew his arm from supporting Victoria; 
 who, subdued by her agonised feelings, must 
 have instantly sunk to the ground, had she 
 not clasped a pillar of the door-case to save 
 herself from falling. Don Manuel, perceiv- 
 ing her situation, sprung forward, and with 
 much courtesy and politeness (at the same 
 time affecting not to observe her too evi- 
 dent agitation) supported her to the upper 
 end of the table, and seated her at his own 
 right hand ^ Garcias took the place at the 
 bottom of the table; Alonzo sat at his right. 
 Hero at his left, and Octavia was placed 
 opposite to our heroine. 
 
 Don Manuel, whom Victoria from his 
 crimes expected to find a ruffian as direful 
 in aspect as any of those who brought her
 
 7S 
 t^ his castle, was then In his forty-eighth 
 year/ but with the singular advantage of 
 appearing at least ten years younger ; and 
 never was man possessed of more qualities 
 to captivate the fancy. * His was of the 
 very first order of fine forms/ adorned with 
 all the attractive elegance the graces could 
 bestow, attended by an air of the truest 
 majesty. Nature, it might be well imagined, 
 had not designed him for the worthless be- 
 ing he was, since she had' not set the stamp 
 of villany on his countenance, but formed 
 that as well as his person in the most strik- 
 ing mould of manly beauty. Age had but 
 slightly marked its traces upon his brow ; 
 but the burning rays of the sun, to which 
 he had been much exposed, had considera- 
 bly darkened his complexion, except upon 
 his forehead, which still was beautifully fair* 
 His eyes, dark, brilliant, and intelligent, 
 ever spoke exactly as he wished them. His 
 voice and smile too were at pleasure, sweetly 
 insinuating; and, with the most polished 
 manners, he possessed the talent of charming 
 in conversation to an eminent degree : and 
 such was the magic of his art, that even 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 
 
 trifles said by him were gifted with the 
 power of fascination. 
 
 The aspect of Garcias was widely diffe- 
 rent. His form was almost colossal, devoid- 
 of grace or symmetry. He wore his heart 
 displayed upon his face, where nature had 
 conspicuously stamped, in her most dark 
 and diabolical characters, villain upon every 
 line. 
 
 Alonzo was many years younger than 
 Don Manuel and Garcias, and had both 
 the appearance and manners of a gentle- 
 man. His coiintenance was handsome, but 
 very far from prepossessing ; for in it could 
 eas'ly be traced, by the discerning eye, ex- 
 pression strongly indicative of a corrupt 
 heart. 
 
 Don Manuel's whole attention was de- 
 voted to Victoria., whom he appeared assi- 
 duous to please and tranquilliser but to 
 restore her bosom to serenity was a task at 
 that time too arduous even for the subtle 
 Manuel. Yet with so much delicacy did he 
 conduct himself towards her, and so appa- 
 rent was his wish to promote her comfort 
 and to diminish her too evident terrors, that.
 
 15 
 
 Jii despite of the distracted state ©f her 
 mind, she beheld in him a man perfect in 
 the manners of a gentleman ; and the ap- 
 prehension of being treated with brutality 
 was at least lulled in her agitated heart. 
 
 From the time the cloth had been re- 
 moved and the attendants departed, Alonzo 
 fixed his eyes in an earnest and animated 
 :gaze of admiration upon Victoria, that must 
 have distressed her had she observed him. 
 But Don Manuel saw it ; and at length, 
 though politely, rebuked him for it. Alon^ 
 20, striving to laugh off Don Manuel's re- 
 proof, aimed at a retort, in which he over- 
 stepped the bounds of delicacy. Octavia 
 blushed. Hero half simpered, and looked 
 something like confusion -, while Victoria, 
 unconscious that any insult had been offered 
 to the ear of purity, innocently looked up 
 at the moment, and saw Don Manuel dart 
 a glance of such sternness at Alonzo, that 
 it silenced the babbler for the night, and 
 made Victoria shudder. 
 
 Although terror and grief had almost de- 
 prived our heroine of her faculties, it soon 
 was evident to Don Manuel that hers was 
 E2
 
 76 
 
 an enlightened and accomplished mind. Hk 
 conversation, therefore, he adapted to please 
 her reason and charm her fancy ; and so 
 well had he succeeded, that the horrid ideas 
 she had been led to form of him were in- 
 ■sensibjy vanishing, when the glance he dart- 
 ed at Alonzo dissolved at once the magic 
 of delusion. Her innocence had left her in 
 ignorance of the occasion of that glance ; 
 and instead of feeling grateful for it, she 
 trembled, and believed him the most fero- 
 cious as well as artful of mankind. Nature, 
 she saw, had with a prodigal hand lavished 
 abundantly her favours on his person, while 
 she left (Victoria believed) his mind to Art j 
 by whom she doubted not that all his ges- 
 tures, words, actions, thoughts, were guided. 
 Supper had been ended about an hour, 
 "when the castle clock, with slow and awful 
 sound, struck twelve ; when instantly a tre- 
 mendous naise, astounding to the ear and 
 appalling to the heart, rolled terrifically be- 
 neath the room they sat in, shaking the 
 whole fabric, as if some dreadful convulsion 
 of the earth was about to hurl rocks, build- 
 ing and all, into a heap of ruins.
 
 77 
 
 Don Manuel, Garcias, and Alonzo, start- 
 ed from their seats dismayed, and precipi- 
 tately hurried the three captives (who were 
 ahiiost annihilated by dreadful apprehen- 
 sions) into the hall, where Diego, Juan, and 
 Teresa, at the same moment entered with 
 looks aghast. 
 
 " Teresa," exclaimed Don Manuel, en- 
 deavouring to articulate without faultering, 
 ** Teresa, conduct these my respected guests 
 to their apartment s let them meet w^ith 
 every attention and accommodation in your 
 power to bestow : but to this lady (Victoria, 
 whose hand he held) the homage and re- 
 spect of my vassals must be given,- as to the 
 future mistress of this castle, Diego, yoa 
 already know my wishes; therefore to you 
 I need say no more." Then delivering our 
 heroine's trembling and fear-chilled hand 
 to Teresa, and making a profound and 
 graceful bow, he, with Garcias and Alon- 
 zo, rushed throup:h the hall, and with them 
 instantly disappeared. 
 
 E3
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 *' San Jago defend us!" said Teresa, m 
 an agony of terror; " \ve shall all be de- 
 stroyed ! Ah, it must come at lafl ! But why 
 should the innocent — " 
 
 " Say one word more upon this subject," 
 said Diego, " and I will silence you for ever. 
 Lead the way.'* 
 
 ^' I cannot, indeed I cannot," replied the 
 trembling old woman. ** My knees so smite 
 each other through fear, that I cannot walk 
 a step.'* 
 
 " Move on/' said Diego sternly, taking 
 a pistol from his belt. 
 
 Teresa instantly obeyed, but with so 
 rnuch tremor, she nearly threw poor Victo- 
 ria down, who was not more steady of foot 
 than herself at that moment. Octavia and 
 Flero followed as speedily as the cold shiver- 
 ings of fear v^oukl permit them. Juan, bear- 
 ing a light, led the van ; and Diego brought 
 up the rear, still holding a pistol in his hand.
 
 79 
 
 With slow and trembling steps the terri- 
 fied females measured the whole length of 
 the hall, from thence through a passage 
 into another hall, out of which arose a grand 
 staircase, which they fearfully ascended. 
 
 The staircase terminated in a long gal- 
 lery hung with tapestry, mouldering from 
 its ancient splendor, and all the black and 
 shapeless figures of which poor Hero's fears 
 at once transformed into myriads of ghastly 
 spectres 5 which Juan no sooner perceived, 
 than, with inhuman mirth, he told her *^ all 
 the figures there were skeletons of Christians 
 murdered by theSaracens, which the Moorish 
 ladies afterwards amused themselves with 
 weaving into tapestry ; and that the spirits 
 of those Christians, still roving and restless, 
 often visited that gallery to admire the ap- 
 pearances they had worn in life." 
 
 ** Holy Virgin ["exclaimed Teresa. ''How 
 you talk, Juan, when you know not how 
 soon you may — -" 
 
 *' Die and be d- d," interrupted the 
 
 profligate. ** And what then, hunchback.? 
 if there is a future state, I shall fry ; but so 
 will my betters, and I shall be in good com- 
 E4
 
 80 
 
 pany still. But mind what you are abour,, 
 Teresa, and walk more steadily ; for, if yoa 
 writhe about so, you wiliknock the young 
 donna down, which Vv^ill not be quite con- 
 sistent with that respect Don Manuel order- 
 ed you to show her."^ 
 
 *' Ah 1" cried Teresa, *' would to heaven 
 1 could show her the way out of thisdrea-d.- 
 ful place, where — " 
 
 ** Teresa, beware," said Diego sternly. 
 " You know the consequence of speaking 
 upon forbidden subjects/' 
 
 *' Well, well,'* replied Teresa, ** and per- 
 haps to die would be better than to be 
 plagued with so many secrets upon one*'& 
 mind, that are every minute drawing one 
 into dangerous scrapes," 
 
 " Particularly," said Juan, ^' when cer- 
 tain that, were you to disclose all those se- 
 crets to these ladies, ihey would go no fur- 
 ther." 
 
 "Alas! that is too true," returned Te- 
 resa. 
 
 By this time they reached the end of the 
 gallery, where a long passage branched off 
 on each side^ in the middle of which, front-
 
 ing the gallery, stood an immense semicir- 
 cular folding d-oor ; ^hile a beautiful colon- 
 nade, ranged before it in the term ol a cres- 
 cent, made in the whole a complete circle \ 
 in the centre of which stood a colossal sta- 
 tue of Neptune, from whose trident was 
 suspended a human skeleton m good pre- 
 servation. 
 
 From this sight Victoria and Octavia 
 shrunk in horror. Hero shrieked. 
 
 ** What ails you, ladies?" said Juan with 
 a malignant sneer. " That is only the en- 
 trance to our dissection-room , perhaps some 
 day or another I may have the honour of 
 being appointed to take you to it." 
 
 '' Let nothing tempt you to go into that 
 room with him or any one else/' exclaimed 
 Teresa with increased alarm ;. " for that is 
 the grand theatre of every kind of horror. 
 Oh, how my heart shudders when I think of 
 all I know about that room ! Come, for 
 heaven's sake, let us hasten aw^ay from it, 
 dear young lady !" and on she led or rather 
 dragged Victoria along the passage to the 
 rights and, walking much faster than she 
 had hitherto done, soon got foremost of the 
 E5
 
 S2 
 
 group ; and after many a step, they at las-t 
 reached a door at the termination of the 
 passage, which closed with violence as they 
 approached it ; and upon Teresa's attempt- 
 ing to open it, she found it forcibly held 
 against her. 
 
 ** Oh ! Diego/' cried she, " I may as well 
 die one way as another. Those ghastly 
 sprites are here ready to destroy us, and 
 it is in vain to contend." 
 
 ** That I shall presently see,*' answered 
 Diego, advancing, who strove with all his 
 might to force open the door -, which now 
 w^as so firmly fastened, that it resisted all' 
 his strength aided by Juan*^s. 
 
 " This is most wonderful V* said Diego, In 
 evident consternation. Then after a pause 
 he continued — ** You must have fastened 
 this door by some means when you com- 
 pleted your business here this evening, Te- 
 
 resa." 
 
 " No," replied the agitated old woman,. 
 ** I certainly did not, as Juan can testify ^ 
 and further to prove that I did not, as we 
 now came near the door I saw it a-jar; and 
 so might you all, had you looked."
 
 85 
 
 "J most undoubtedly saw it so/' said 
 Victoria ; *' and also saw it closed with pre- 
 cipitance the moment we approached it." 
 
 '' And/' continued Teresa, " when I at- 
 tempted to turn the lock, the knob seemed 
 forcibly held against me; then for a mo- 
 ment it yielded, and the door was about to 
 give way, when it was suddenly pushed-to 
 -with a degree of firmness that my little 
 strength could not oppose/'^ 
 
 " It is very extraordinary,*' said Diego 
 thoughtfully. " I cannot believe in super- 
 natural appearances, and yet no human be- 
 ing can possibly be here. I must however 
 go for some implement to force open this 
 mysteriously fastened door." 
 
 '* Then you will take the light vyith you, 
 I suppose," cried Teresa, 
 
 *' Undoubtedly, or how should I find 
 what I go for ?" 
 
 *' Then I'll go with yoUy" replied Teresa, 
 " for here I will not stay in the dark;" and 
 she hobbled after him ; who, taking the lamp 
 from Juan, had moved away. Hero, half 
 shrieking, darted after him, and caught fast
 
 84. 
 
 hold of his mantle. Octavla instinctively 
 followed i and Juan, not having a conscience- 
 to make darkness comfortable, retreated 
 too : while poor Victoria's feet, unable to 
 perform their function, remained immove- 
 ably fixed to a spot close to the door ; and 
 as the light which Diego carried away and 
 the party w'ith him lessened to her sight, 
 subdued by her insupportable apprehen- 
 sions, she caught hold of the knob of the 
 mysterious door to saveherself from falling — 
 but w^ithout effect, for her trembling limbs 
 could no longer support her ^ and in sink- 
 ing to the ground-, she unconsciously turned 
 the knob, and almost imperceptibly the 
 door opened, and she fell into the room 
 upon her face. At the same moment some- 
 thing of a smooth surface, but of a scorch- 
 ing heat, lightly touched her right arm, and 
 passed swiftly along it with a loud rustling 
 noise. 
 
 Victoria uttered a piercing shriek ere her 
 senses forsook her; and Diego found her ex- 
 tended in a swoon upon the floor of that 
 room his Herculean strength could not force
 
 85 
 an admission into: for, alarmed by bee 
 scream, be instantly returned, followed by 
 tbc wbole party, 
 
 Diego, witb mucb bumanity, placed our 
 heroine upon a bed, while Teresa be- 
 sprinkled her face with wat€r> when it 
 was soon perceived that her right arm, from 
 the wrist to the elbow, was covered with 
 blood. In new alarm, they believed she 
 had been stabbed, although there was no 
 apparent wound. In a few moments, how- 
 ever, she began to discover symptoms of 
 returning respiration ; and in a short time 
 after was sufficiently recovered to inform 
 her impatient auditors of what had occurred 
 prior to her fainting. 
 
 There was now no doubt entertained that 
 whatever had touched her arm left the hor- 
 rid stain upon it ; and that it was some su- 
 pernatural warning of Victorians fate Teresa 
 and Hero believed. And even Diego was 
 himself dismayed. However, he hastened 
 with Juan to make diligent search after 
 what had caused so general an alarm j but 
 no vestige of any person having been there 
 could they trace, or place of retreat dis-
 
 86^ 
 cover. There was no second door to the 
 room, the windows were closely latticed 5 
 and not a part of the chamber but under- 
 went a strict examination — but all without 
 effect ; and Diego was at length of opinion, 
 that if any persons had been there, they had 
 escaped while Victoria was in the swoon,, 
 before he and the rest of the party could 
 return to her. 
 
 Not until our heroine appeared perfectly 
 recovered from her swoon did Diego make 
 any attempt to depart ; and then, with evi- 
 dent reluctance, he reminded Teresa that 
 they must go. 
 
 ** Ah ! poor souls, so we must,'* replied 
 Teresa : " but it grieves my very heart to 
 leave them in such a place. Your baggage 
 is all uncorded, ready for you to get your 
 night-clothes out ; and I have made every 
 thing here as comfortable as I could for 
 you. The beds are well aired, although the 
 room smells so musty. Your bed, donna, 
 is the state one j that on the right for the 
 eldest lady ; and the small one in the cor- 
 ner for the young woman. The state bed 
 was lain in for a long time until two nights
 
 S7 
 
 ago, when the poor captive who had it 
 killed himself in a fit of despair : but it wa,g 
 not his blood which stained your arm, be- 
 cause his, poor soul, was all cleaned away 
 when the body was removed this morning." 
 
 Diego now, advancing, particularly ad- 
 dressed Victoria. ** I am grieved, donna,'* 
 said he, *' that I cannot leave Teresa or any- 
 other comfort with you ; but you may rest 
 assured that nothing shall molest you this 
 night that I can possibly prevent/* While 
 he spoke, he looked earnestly upon our he- 
 roine, and the pallid hue of death gradually 
 overspread his fine countenances then heav- 
 ing a deep sigh, (which seemed almost a 
 groan,) his face reassumed its natural com- 
 plexion y and iiiaking a respectful bow, he,, 
 with Teresa and Juan, departed^ having 
 previously lighted a lamp and set it in the 
 chimney. 
 
 Being now left to themselves, Victoria 
 and Octavia looked pitebusly upon each 
 other; while Hero relieved her full heart 
 by tears. 
 
 ** This, then,*' said Victoria, after an ago- 
 nising pause^ *'is our prison, and we know
 
 8« 
 not the fate that awaits us in it : but, that 
 ^we may deserve the protection of Him who 
 alone can help us, ought we not to suppli- 
 cate for aid and mercy at that throne where 
 the prayers of the innocent and afflicted 
 were never yet offered in vain ?" 
 
 Signora Octavia arose with reverence, 
 and, as well as our heroine, meekly bent 
 her kneesj and raised her heart and hands 
 to heaven. Hero instinctively followed their 
 example ; and after spending some time in 
 prayers to the father of mercies, offered with 
 all the pure fervor of sincere piety, Victoria 
 and Octavia arose from their suppliant pos- 
 ture more calm and collected, having caught 
 the emanation of soothing patience and 
 fortitude from the fire of true religion that 
 burnt brightly and steadily in their bosoms; 
 and although Hero's piety was far less firm 
 and genuine, even she felt her terrors much 
 diminished. 
 
 The agitation of our heroine and Octavia 
 having considerably abated, they summon- 
 ed sufficient courage to fasten the door ; but 
 although religion had, by its wondrous influ- 
 ence, renovated their intellectual strength.
 
 89 
 they had encountered sufficient that eveii'- 
 ing to banish peace from their bosonas and 
 rest from their pillows ; and it would be 
 impossible for us to convey any just idea of 
 the sensations of these unfortunate beings 
 during a long and sleepless night. They 
 threw themselves, dressed as they vvere^ 
 upon their beds; where they prayed, talked, 
 and wept, without the intervention of any 
 new event, until the morning sun, which, 
 with difficulty penetrating the lattices of 
 their gloomy prison, found them waking* 
 His cheerful rays, from which guilt shrinks 
 away abashed, in some degree dissipated 
 their apprehensions ; and they about the 
 same time, overcome by fatigue and watcl> 
 ing, buried their miseries in a short slum- 
 ber, which was easily broken by Teresa^, 
 who knocked for admission about eigkt 
 o'clock. 
 
 " Ah [ poor souls 1" said the compas- 
 sionate old woman, '* your heavy eyes teH 
 me you have had no rest ; and little you 
 are likely to have in this castle until you 
 become used to it, and then you will sleep
 
 ' §0 
 
 as sound as I do. — But have you,'^ and she 
 looked fearfully around, *' have you seen 
 any thing ?" 
 
 " We have not been molested by anv 
 one/* Victoria replied. 
 
 ' ** Thank heaven ! I was dreadfully alarmed 
 about you. But you are ready dressed, there- 
 fore can nov/ come down to breakfast. My 
 master, Garcias, and Alonzo, have not yet 
 returned, so there is no one below but signior 
 Sebastian. Poor signior Sebastian 1 He will 
 not molest you. Alas ! poor gentleman, 
 his heart is almost broken ; but he must 
 hold his tongue as well as I.'* 
 
 " Pray who is signior Sebastian ?'* asked 
 Octavia. 
 
 " 1 am sure I know not ; he was here 
 before me, I believe, and will be here after 
 me, unless a broken heart sends him out of 
 the world before my hour arrives/' 
 
 " We shall find a companion at least, if 
 not a sympathiser, in our misery," said Vic- 
 toria mournfully. ^* We shall soon be ready 
 to attend you, good Teresa. But you said 
 •Don Manuel was not yet returned. Are
 
 §1 
 
 you acquainted — Dare you inform" — She 
 paused for a moment, then continued ; 
 ** Are you not alarmed for his safety ?" 
 
 ** No, no, donna, don't fear : he will come 
 to no harm in the world : besides, he is 
 often away for months together." 
 
 *' Do you think," said Victoria eagerly, 
 with a bright ray of hope beaming from, 
 her intelligent eyes, ** do you think, dear 
 good Teresa, that he will be so long absent 
 now ?" 
 
 ** That is quite uncertain, donna. He 
 may come back to-night, or not these four 
 months : we never can guess at the time of 
 his return. Last night he had no thoughts 
 of leaving the castle ; but that noise always 
 makes him disappear. For my part, I know 
 not what to think of it. I have not heard 
 it often : but I am sure it is a foreboder of 
 evil intentions; for it never comes, I have 
 observed, but just as some dreadful crimes 
 are about to be committed in the castle ; 
 ?nd it seems to me as if it came as a warn- 
 ing to the ruffians to desist from their wicked 
 purposes, and I have always remarked its 
 having that effect. But that is not the only
 
 92 
 
 mysterious thing here. Well, well, I- muse- 
 not talk about them : so we will go down* 
 if you please.** 
 
 The hapless captives had by this time 
 washed away the trace of many tears, and 
 adjusted their dress sufficiently for neatness 
 and comfort : they therefore now attended 
 Teresa down the same way they had come 
 up the preceding night. Less appalled, they 
 possessed in some degree the power of ob» 
 servation; and all around them they saw 
 boJ'e evident marks of ancient magnificence.
 
 9S 
 
 CHAP. ViL 
 
 X ERESA ushered them into the room they 
 bad supped in, and in which breakfast was 
 now prepared; and where sat, leaning pen- 
 sively upon his hand, his elbow resting on 
 a table, a man of a most dignified appear- 
 ance, who strongly bore in his face and 
 figure the wreck of former uncommon manly 
 beauty: he seemed far advanced in life, for 
 sorrow had hurried him into a premature 
 old age. Melancholy, almost woful, were 
 his countenance and deportment; yet so be- 
 nign and sweetly interesting was his intelli- 
 gent face, that it seemed to possess the 
 power of fascination, and instantly to arrest 
 the attention, respect, pity, and admiration 
 of every beholder who had a heart disposed 
 to virtue. To look upon him and not to 
 become sad, sensibility found impossible, 
 and cheerfulness fled from the bosoms of 
 the compassionate at his approach.
 
 94 
 
 The moment Victoria beheld him tears 
 burst from her eyes without her possessing 
 power to restrain them, and she felt as if 
 she could gladly embrace an increase of her 
 own sorrows to moderate his. 
 
 *' Signior Sebastian," said Teresa, " these 
 are the strangers,'* 
 
 Sebastian looked up, and arose from his 
 seat at the same moment. Victoria, being 
 foremost of the captives, first met his view 5 
 and the instant he fixed his large, dark, and, 
 in despite of sorrow, still fine and piercing 
 eyes upon her, he suddenly clasped his 
 hands, and in a tone of horror exclaimed, 
 *^xA.las ! is this their victim ?" 
 
 Victoria, dismayed^ caught Octavia's arm 
 for support ; which Sebastian perceiving, 
 reproached himself for imprudence, and in- 
 stantly approaching her, said in a calm but 
 sweetly-melting tone of deep and heartfelt 
 woe, " Let me not add to your alarms : I 
 was shocked at seeing you in such a place 
 as this 5 and by following the dictates of sin- 
 cerity and compassion, I was unequal to the 
 specious gallantry of bidding you welcome 
 to the place of my captivity." With much
 
 95 
 
 kindness he took Victoria's hand, and led 
 her to a sear ; then turning to signora Ber- 
 nini with a sad but courteous smile, spoke to 
 her, and conducted her to a chair ; then 
 observing the fast-flowing tears of Victoria, 
 he addressed her in the soft voice of ten- 
 derness and compassion. 
 
 " Do not weep so sadly, my sweet child : 
 I cannot bear to see those tears j for l, alas! 
 can only sympathise in your tears, without 
 the means of alleviating them," 
 
 **Ah! signior," replied Victoria, "you 
 have, I fear, in your misfortunes, been little 
 accustomed to the sound of sympathy, or 
 surely you well would know what a miti- 
 gating balm the voice of compassion steals 
 into the afflicted mind.'* 
 
 The moment Victoria began to speak, a 
 very different assemblage of emotions from 
 what had before marked it visibly over- 
 spread the countenance of Sebastian ; and 
 although this sudden change of expression 
 "was evident to every beholder, the cause 
 of it was known only to himself. The 
 interesting melancholy sweetness of his 
 -fine and venerable face vanished at once.
 
 96 
 ^nd was succeeded by a momentary start of 
 painful amazement, which, in an instant 
 more, was lost in a strong expression of 
 horror and despair; while his bosom ap- 
 peared convulsed with anguish, and he 
 lieaved deep groans that seemed to rend 
 his very soul. 
 
 *' AlasI" exclaimed Victoria, shocked and 
 ^grieved, " I fear this good signior is ill, 
 Teresa : what can we do for him ?" 
 
 " While he continues so we must take no 
 notice of him,'' Teresa replied, "as speak- 
 ing to him would only make him worse. 
 Affect not to observe him, and take some 
 breakfast: he will come to himself pre- 
 sently. Poor soul ! Ah ! his is the heart 
 that is just breaking." 
 
 Teresa now handed some chocolate to 
 Victoria, and pressed her much to eat. 
 '^Ah, do, dear donna, do take some nou- 
 rishment,'* said she beseechingly, *^ or you 
 will die for want. Not a morsel of food 
 has passed your lips since here you have 
 been. Diego told me not one bic of supper 
 did you eat last night." 
 
 Sebastian, now recovered from his painful
 
 97 
 
 reverie, heard what Teresa was supplicating 
 for J and his countenance reassuming its ac- 
 customed mournful sweetness, he addressed 
 Victoria with an entreaty to take some 
 food. 
 
 "I cannot indeed, signior.'* 
 
 *' Sorrow then has deprived you of your 
 appetite : mine it has long since destroyed ; 
 and yet I force myself to take that nourish- 
 ment necessary to support my fortitude." 
 
 *^Do you, signior^ then so w^ill I." She 
 took some bread, and compelled herself to 
 swallow it with her chocolate i while Sebas- 
 tian looked on her with eyes of tenderest 
 compassion, until he had lost his usual 
 power of forcing himself to eat. Sadder 
 and sadder he became ; and so thoughtful 
 he grew at last, that vain was every effort 
 to engage his attention ; and at length 
 arising with precipitance, and as if uncon- 
 scious of the presence of any individual, and 
 without speaking, or even looking around, 
 he suddenly quitted the room. 
 
 ^' Ah, poor signior ! he is often so of 
 Jate," said Teresa y " and I but too well 
 
 VOL. !• F
 
 98 
 
 know the cause. May God forgive those 
 who stabbed us both to the heart!*' and she 
 burt into tears. 
 
 Diego at that moment entered, and, on 
 observing Teresa weeping, cast an angry 
 and reproachful glance at her. 
 
 '' Indeed, Diego," said she sobbing, *^I 
 have not been disobeying orders: it was the 
 sight of poor signior Sebastian's misery that 
 awakened mine, and called forth these tears 
 in spite of me." 
 
 The before stern countenance of Diego now 
 underwent a marked and sudden change: 
 it softened at once to the tenderness of ex- 
 treme grief; and with a deep sigh, approach- 
 ing to a groan, and in a broken voice of half- 
 stifled sorrow, he bade Teresa to depart. 
 ^* You are now wanted upon domestic busi- 
 ness," said he, ^'and when these ladiesrequire 
 your attendance they will ring for you -, and 
 take my advice, Teresa — dry up those una- 
 vailing tears ; they cannot restore the trea- 
 sure we have lost, and Only endanger your 
 own safety." 
 
 Teresa, wiping her streaming eyes, de-
 
 99 
 
 parted ; and Diego, having opened a glass 
 door in the apartment, respectfully address- 
 ed our heroine. 
 
 ** Donna," said he, **this piazza will lead 
 you into the grounds, which in former 
 times were considered very magnificent : 
 but although now much neglected, and not 
 very pleasing to modern taste, to walk in 
 them sometimes may not be disagreeable to 
 you, particularly as in the castle you are re- 
 quested not to ramble without some of us to 
 attend you, except from this room to your 
 own chamber, and into the adjoining library, 
 the door into which now stands open." 
 
 *^ We have no inclination at present, be- 
 lieve me, signior," Victoria replied, " to ram- 
 ble by ourselves; but if you will be so good 
 to show us any part of the grounds, we shall 
 consider ourselves as much obliged to you.** 
 
 " Heavens and earth !" Hero exclaimed : 
 ** surely lady Victoria will not be so mad 
 as to venture with him into the grounds, 
 when who knows — '* 
 
 '^ Your lady knows,'* said Diego, scorn- 
 fully interrupting hor, *' that 1 shall not 
 F2
 
 100 
 
 harm her. However, donna, if you feel 
 the Jeast alarm, do not go with me." 
 
 *^I know not why," repHed Victoria with 
 a look of melancholy yet ineffable sweet- 
 ness, "but I feel every moment more in*- 
 clined to a persuasion that I have nothing 
 to apprehend from you." 
 
 A smile of pleasure animated Diego's 
 countenance j the habitual sternness of his 
 browvanished, and in its stead appeared good 
 nature, ingenuousness, and 'pity. *' To de- 
 serve the honour of your good opinion," said 
 he, '' shall be my study ; and I must so far 
 say, that those who have reposed a confi- 
 dence in me have never yet found themselves 
 deceived." 
 
 Although Teresa had assured them escape 
 was impossible, yet Victoria still found 
 Hope a lingering guest, who, though coldly 
 entertained, seemed unwilling to depart : 
 and she felt anxious to examine the grounds 
 about the castle, to learn if she could, from 
 their situation and appearance, if they were 
 really consigned to inevitable destruction ; 
 •and thus solicitous, she scrupled not to ac-
 
 101 
 company Diego, who led her and her com- 
 panions along the mossed pavement of a 
 piazza of astonishing length, in which were 
 innumerable niches occupied by statues, 
 some of beautiful, some of curious work- 
 inanship j many were in good preservation, 
 but more falling to decay. At last they 
 approached a small figure of an Apollo in 
 porphyry, little more than half finished, but 
 what was completed of the statue was most 
 exquisitely performed. Diego's eyes seemed 
 instinctively to be caught by it, and sud- 
 denly he stopped as if surprised by the un- 
 expected sight of a distressing object. Pale 
 as death he became 3 his bosom heaved 
 convulsively, whilst he gazed on the statue 
 with a countenance expressive of grief and 
 horror. A tear at last strayed down his 
 cheeks, which he hastily brushed away, and 
 was about to move on, when he was fixed 
 longer to the spot by a question from Vic- 
 toria, whose attention had been awakened 
 by the uncommon beauty of the performance, 
 added to the singular circumstance of its 
 being unfinished, with the extraordinary ef- 
 fect the sight of it had upon Diego. She 
 
 F 3
 
 102 
 
 therefore stopped to observe It more minutely, 
 and could not forbear at last to ask Diego, 
 who was the sculptor, and why the per- 
 formance w^as unfinished ? 
 
 After a thoughtful and evidently a pain- 
 ful pause, Diego respectfully replied, 
 " Donna, it is not from want of inclination, 
 or a proper sense of the honour you confer 
 upon me, by condescending to ask informa- 
 tion from me, that I do not give you all the 
 intelligence you must naturally wish for; 
 but, donna, answering the questions of 
 strangers, relative to the transactions of this 
 castle, is punished by death. Yet thus far I 
 may, consistent with my duty, tell you con- 
 cerning this statue : it was the performance 
 of a gentleman who resided many years 
 here, and who, when not engaged by more 
 material study, used to amuse his leisure 
 hours with the pencil, the chisel, or some 
 musical instrument. Ah ! his music was 
 what be himself was in mind and person- 
 perfection ; and had such an effect, the heart 
 of every hearer was humanised by it. But 
 it is well Teresa is not here; the sight of any 
 thing that belonged to him gives a fresh
 
 103 
 
 wound to her breaking heart. And this 
 was his amusement when .... and left un- 
 finished bv '* Dieoro's voice now faul- 
 
 tcred soj that articulation was lost. 
 
 "Alas I he is then dead," said Victoria, 
 much affected. 
 
 " We will/' returned Diego, struggling 
 to recover himself, '^ we wilL donna, if you 
 please, proceed to the grounds, and drop 
 this painful subject for ever." 
 
 Deeply interested, and anxious to hear 
 more, as Victoria felt herself, she yet saw 
 that to dwell longer on the distressing theme 
 would be cruelty to Diego ; therefore she 
 follow^ed him in silence to a large iron gate, 
 through which they entered into the ex^ 
 tensive gloomy, though once magnificent, 
 grounds, where the ancient and lofty trees, 
 branching at top in close embraces, pre- 
 cluded the rays of the cheerful sun ; and 
 the grass-grown walks too plainly evinced 
 how damp, dreary, and desolate was the 
 place they had entered. In a few moments, 
 however, they came upon the grand terrace, 
 w^here the very great breadth of the walk 
 prevented such a close contaction of the 
 F 4
 
 104 
 
 trees; therefore riiore air and light were ad- 
 mitted: and when they reached the termi- 
 nation of the terrace, Victoria and Octavia 
 beheld, to their utter dismay and disappoint- 
 ment, that the grounds were hemmed in by 
 a rampart of an immense height, overhung 
 by inaccessible rocks of the lofty Pyrenees; 
 and, through one vista in the trees, and di- 
 vision among the rocks, they discovered at 
 no great distance the topsails and streamers 
 of three or four ships apparently riding at 
 anchor iii some creek amongst the rocks. 
 
 ''That sentinel,'* said Victoria, pointing 
 to a man standing near a watch-tower upon 
 the ramparts, '' that sentinel must, I should 
 suppose, from his present situation, com- 
 mand a view of the Mediterranean/* 
 
 "A very beautiful, though an oblique one; 
 and also, donna, a distant prospect of the 
 toast of France." 
 
 ** Might we not," said Octavia, endea- 
 vouring to speak without emotion, " might 
 we not, think you, signior, be favoured some 
 time with the sight of such a dehghtful 
 prospect ?" 
 
 *' Never by me," Diego solemnly replied.
 
 105 
 "I have promised the lady Victoria (for so 
 I think you call her) to protect her from 
 every injury that it may be in my power to 
 save her from; but I did not give any rea- 
 son to suppose I would aid* her in an 
 escape from hence. My duty to my ma- 
 ster has ever been unsuspected; and learn, 
 signora, that it is incorruptible.^* 
 
 The manner in which Diego pronounced 
 these words extinguished every ray of hope 
 at once; mournfully and despondingly they 
 looked on the insurmountable height of the 
 walls, and full of sadness they soon re- 
 turned to the castle; when Diego again in- 
 formed them to where their rambles must 
 be confined, vrith a respectful caution not 
 to trespass the bounds prescribed to them. 
 But this was a most unnecessary caution. 
 Fear is an excellent repellent to curiosity , 
 and they were all too much under its trem- 
 bling influence to feel either power or in- 
 clination to rove about that terrifying and 
 mysterious place. 
 
 Their extraordinary afflictions were of 
 too recent a commencement to admit of 
 sufficient composure to find amusement or 
 F5
 
 106 
 comfort in the library, and one glance at its 
 great extent and gloom made them shrink 
 from the idea of entering it : therefore, full 
 of mental misery, they sadly seated them- 
 selves in the eating-parlour, where they un- 
 interruptedly conversed upon the dreadful 
 theme of their captivity. 
 
 At length Diego and Juan appeared to 
 make preparations fordinner ; and just before 
 it was served, and in the same moment, Se- 
 bastian and Garcias entered. The latter, 
 sullen and morose, made Victoria tremble ; 
 particularly as she feared his arrival was a 
 prelude to Don Manuel's return. The for- 
 mer, kmd and attentive, seemed much more 
 collected, though not less sad than he had 
 been in the morning. His conversation he 
 directed solely to our heroine and Octavia, 
 who were both charmed and astonished at 
 the very superior talents each moment 
 more and more discovered Sebastian to be 
 possessed of, who was in fact a perfect 
 master of all those mental treasures which 
 a powerful understanding, a brilliant genius, 
 aided by all that a highly-finished education 
 could give, assisted by a most insatiable
 
 107 
 
 thirst for knowledge, which gave him an un- 
 wearied and intense application that at- 
 tended him for years, whilst he dived to the 
 very bottom of the most hidden, deep, and 
 intricate springs of learning. Nor did the 
 polish of courts forget to throw its most 
 graceful garb around him ; so that in Sebas- 
 tian were so happily blended the perfect 
 scholar and the elegant gentleman, that 
 when in the world his society was equally 
 courted and admired by the high belle of 
 fashion in the ball-room, and the most 
 learned doctor of each university. 
 
 The more Victoria conversed with Sebas- 
 tian, the more her griefs and apprehensions 
 were tranquillised : while he was present 
 she thought herself secure from danger, 
 and with something like pleasure she ac- 
 ceded to his wish for her walking with himi 
 in the grounds in the evening. Garcias, unin- 
 vited, attended the captives upon their ex- 
 cursion, listening with the most profound but 
 gloomy and malign attention to every word 
 that was spoken, without once adding a sin- 
 gle sentence to the conversation, which his 
 unwished-for presence rendered embarrassed 
 and reserved.
 
 108 
 
 In the solitary grounds they took their sad 
 ramble, until the sombre — and now, to our 
 hapless female captives, fear-inspiring — twi- 
 light recalled them to the castle, where, in 
 some minutes after their return, the tinkling 
 of a small bell arrested Sebastian's attention ; 
 when hastily pressing Victoria's hand affec- 
 tionately, he blessed her with energy ; then 
 turning to Garcias, with marked emphasis 
 said — 
 
 " You will do right, signidr, to remember 
 that Francisco is in the castle, and disap- 
 proves your present plans ^*' and immedi- 
 ately entering the library, soon was lost to 
 Victoria's view, and with him all her littlfe 
 share of comfort. 
 
 A gloom more dark and diabolical now 
 overspread the horrid countenance of Gar- 
 cias, which conveyed to the minds of i..e 
 hapless captives a renewal of every dreadful 
 apprehension, and fervently they wished and 
 hoped to see Sebastian return ; but in vain: 
 he appeared no more that evening; and as 
 the night advanced their terrors considera- 
 bly increased, to the high gratification of 
 the arch-fiend Garcias, who with ghastly- 
 smiles of malignant triumph sneered at fears>
 
 109 
 
 which he, by his savage manners and his 
 darkly mysterious words and gestures, but 
 too cruelly augmented. 
 
 At length supper-time arrived; and whilst 
 Diego continued in the room Victoria felt 
 ' less appalled : but of the supper she could 
 not partake, neither could her companions 
 in wretchedness — extreme grief and terror 
 having proved equally destructive to their 
 appetites. Diego, who seemed to under- 
 stand that his presence was some comfort 
 to our heroine, contrived to remain in the 
 room after supper as long as he could pos- 
 sibly devise any excuse for doing so : but 
 at last he was compelled to depart^ and 
 when with slow and awful sound the castle 
 clock struck twelve, our captives found 
 the^^^elves almost convulsed by the tremor 
 ot'^'tear and superstition, which on the in- 
 stant presented to their sickly fancy an ex- 
 pectation of something horrid occurring upon 
 that signal, similar to the appalling noise 
 of the preceding night. But agreeably were 
 they disappointed, as nothing more ghast- 
 ly than Teresa, who appeared to conduct 
 them to their chambers, was seen or heard;
 
 no 
 
 and for X^resa herself Victoria was begin- 
 ning to feel a sincere regard, as Nature had, in 
 forming Teresa's heart, moistened its mate- 
 rials with the sweet milk of human kind- 
 ness. 
 
 To their dreaded chamber were they at- 
 tended by Teresa and Diego, nothing oc- 
 curring on their way thither to increase 
 those dismal apprehensions they had cause 
 sufficient to feel ; and when their lamp was 
 lighted, Teresa and Diego departed, the 
 former leaving her blessing with them, and 
 the latter a strong assurance of safety through 
 the night. 
 
 Victoria fastened the door as she had 
 done on the preceding night, and then, as a 
 stronger safeguard, devoutly implored the 
 protection of heaven — an example her two 
 companions omitted not to follow. 
 
 Their trunks were all arranged there, and 
 they now ventured to unlock them to take 
 out some night-clothes ; when, to their 
 amazement, they observed their trunks had 
 not only escaped being plundered, but had 
 evidently never been opened. — For what 
 then had this desperate banditti ventured
 
 Ill 
 
 their lives in taking them captives, if 
 plunder was not their aim ? This was a 
 fresh mystery, which they could not solve; 
 and by its ambiguity adding new fears to 
 their former terrors, they shrunk from the 
 idea of going into bed, lest, overcome by 
 fatigue, they should lose the power of watch- 
 ing. Therefore, enfolded in their wrap- 
 pers, they threw themselves upon their beds, 
 resolving not to sleep, but thus to be ready 
 to arise the moment they should hear the 
 sound of approaching danger. However, 
 dc^wnright weariness overcame that deter- 
 mination ; and, in defiance of every effort to 
 the contrary, they all slept much more than 
 they had done the preceding night; and 
 Teresa, to her infinite joy, found them, whjn 
 she awoke them in the morning, much less 
 languid and more refreshed than on the 
 foregoing day.
 
 112 
 
 CHAP. VIIL 
 
 JlTero was too much enervated by her 
 terrors to admit of her assisting our heroine 
 in the task of the toilet 5 Teresa therefore 
 officiated, to whom almost the first words 
 Victoria spoke were an inquiry for Sebas- 
 tian. 
 
 *^ He is now in the parlour, and anxious 
 to see you, donna/* 
 
 " The tinkling of a bell summoned him 
 from us last night," said Victoria. 
 
 ** Francisco's bell," replied Teresa. 
 
 " Francisco !" repeated Victoria, remem- 
 bering the expressive manner in which Se- 
 bastian mentioned him to Garcias, " Fran- 
 cisco ! 1 have not yet seen him^ I believe.'* 
 
 *' No, donna," replied Teresa, " and pro- 
 bably seldom may. He is one of the mys- 
 teries of this place ; apparently of no con- 
 sequence ; and yet Don Manuel (who is 
 evidently master over all) is certainly most
 
 113 
 unaccountably afraid of bim^ and bas com- 
 manded us all to obey bim implicitly in every 
 thing: and even signior Sebastian treats 
 bim witb a degree of respect he does not 
 deign to bestow upon Don Manuel himself, 
 to w^hom he is captive. It is only sometimes 
 Francisco comes amongst us, although be 
 bas apartments in the castle ; nor does our 
 kitchen always supply him witb food." 
 
 '^ Is Garcias afraid of bim ?" asked Oc- 
 tavia. 
 
 ** Most assuredly : his great civility to 
 Francisco tells that tale at once." 
 
 " Garcias is not a favourite of yours, I 
 see,'* said Octavia. 
 
 *' He ! the inhuman ruffian ! Oh no ! He 
 struck my bear! a deadly blow that is fast 
 burrying me to the grave." 
 
 ^«Ah!" cried Victoria, *^ what would I 
 not give to know the history you allude to !" 
 
 " Alas ! replied Teresa, " and I dare not 
 tell it to you ; my life would pay for it." 
 
 " Then why, dear Teresa, are you so im- 
 prudent as ever even to breathe an inti- 
 mation of it ?*' said Victoria. 
 
 By this time our heroine and her compa-
 
 114 
 nions in misery were ready to leave their 
 chamber, and attended Teresa to the par- 
 lour, where they found Sebastian, who re- 
 ceived them all with kindness : but to Vic- 
 toria his manner was that of a fond father 
 to a favourite child ; and when he looked 
 upon her, it was easy to discover, in his 
 intelligent countenance, the highest degrees 
 of pleasure and pain struggling for the 
 ascendency. 
 
 Garcias soon after appeared ; who, with 
 much brutality, reprimanded the trembling 
 Teresa for summoning the loomen (as he 
 elegantly termed them) before he was ready 
 to receive them. 
 
 *^ That circumstance need not discom- 
 pose your serenity, signior," said Sebastian, 
 ** since, believe me, you have not suffered by 
 it, as we did not once sully the purity of 
 our conversation by mentioning your name." 
 
 Garcias knit his heavy brow ; the black 
 venom of his vindictive heart tinged his 
 whole diabolical countenance : but, though 
 agonised with spleen and revenge, he made 
 no reply. 
 
 Encouraged by the presence of Sebastian,
 
 115 
 
 Victoria was enabled to eat some break-* 
 fast, and so did signora Bernini and Hero. 
 Sebastian performed the honours of the 
 table, and appeared less sad, and, although 
 thoughtful at times, infinitely more collected 
 than he had been the preceding day. 
 
 In about an hour after breakfast was 
 ended Sebastian departed, first informing 
 Victoiia that he should not have it in his 
 power to see her again until supper-time. 
 Garcias soon after disappeared, to Victo- 
 ria's great relief, as all his darkly malign 
 and horribly mysterious looks had been" 
 directed to her that morning. Shortly 
 after the departure of Garcias, Hero, sub- 
 dued by that fatigue arising from want of 
 uninterrupted rest, sunk into a sound sleep 
 upon a couch in the room, secure, as Victo- 
 ria and Octavia were there awake to watch 
 her. But soon Octavia caught the drowsy 
 infection, and, in spite of the respect she 
 felt for lady Victoria, dropped into a pro- 
 found slumber in her chair. 
 
 Victoria, now left wholly to the miserable 
 society of her own thoughts, fell at once 
 into a melancholy train of painful reflex- '
 
 116 
 
 ions, which gave birth to such an insupport- 
 able anguish of heart, that, wishing to re- 
 store her fortitude and to renovate her ex- 
 piring hope of succour, and beh'eving her- 
 self at that moment secure from interrup- 
 tion, she devoutly sunk upon her knees, 
 and, with all the pure fervor of sincere piety, 
 presented the petitions of her spotless soul 
 before the throne of mercy. She found m 
 her devotion that healing balm which true 
 religion ever proves to the wounded mind ; 
 and when she arose from her knees, she felt 
 her agitated spirits soothed to calmness, 
 her hopes of succour revived, and awaken- 
 ed fortitude pervading her whole frame 
 with a degree of courage before unknown 
 to her. And in this moment she resolved, 
 even alone as she was, to enter the library : 
 for, wishing to preserve her mind in its then 
 comparatively tranquil state, and believing 
 nothing so likely to effect it as keeping it 
 in action, she formed the intention of ex- 
 ploring the library in search of some friendly 
 author, who by his precepts, divine or moral, 
 might strengthen her mind in her moments 
 of trial.
 
 117 
 
 The library was one of the most magni- 
 ficent apartments in the castle. Its roof, 
 of the most curious Saracen architecture, 
 was supported by a double colonnade of 
 black marble, richly inlaid with gold. On 
 one side of the room, between the pillars, 
 were book-shelves and statues of ancient 
 sages and heroes ranged alternately ; and 
 on the other were book-shelves placed be- 
 tween the windows in the same regular 
 order. The windows were of stained 
 glass, thickly latticed, and looked to the 
 south piazza, the vaulted roof of which 
 dimmed considerably the light they might 
 otherwise have admitted. The floor was 
 black marble and gold, curiously wrought 
 into a mosaic pavement. Four doors led 
 from this apartment upon the side where 
 the statues were ranged ; and, on the oppo- 
 site side, four windows opened as doors into 
 the piazza; while each end of the library 
 was pannelled with maps, beneath every 
 one of which stood a small sopha and a 
 marble table : and from each extremity of 
 the room arose a black marble and gold 
 spiral staircase, winding round a cluster of
 
 118 
 
 corresponding pillars, which led into a mag- 
 nificent gallery that surrounded the room 
 above the windows, furnished with books 
 and statues exactly similar to the arrange- 
 ment below. 
 
 On entering this apartment, which ap- 
 peared like the grand aisle of an immense 
 cathedral, Victoria experienced sensations 
 of the most impressive nature. The solemn 
 grandeur of theplace dedicated so many ages 
 past to knowledge ; the sight of those piles 
 of instruction that animated genius and 
 learning had, with unwearied labour, toiled 
 to bequeath as enlightening legacies to an 
 else ignorant world, which on each side 
 were treasured there ; the sad idea that the 
 hands w^hich had written those surround- 
 ing volumes, with those that had from age 
 to age succeeding turned those pages over 
 for information and pleasure, w^ere now 
 mouldering in the dust ; all the revolutions 
 that castle had undergone from the collect- 
 ing that library until the present moment, 
 when vice alone disseminated principles 
 there, afl at once assailed her, and struck 
 her with a degree of reverential awe ap-
 
 119 
 preaching to the superstitious; and she almost 
 imagined that the immortal geniuses whose 
 works were there stored presided still ; and 
 firm in the belief that the truly wise could 
 not be wicked, she felt a kind of religious 
 veneration for the place, as a sacred sanc- 
 tuary protected from the unhallowed ap- 
 proaches of vice. 
 
 After some moments passed in an awful 
 •inaction, but during which reflexion played 
 its part, Victoria ventured to advance to- 
 wards the book-shelves j and after throwing 
 her eyes cautiously around to assure herself 
 that she had no companion to alarm her, 
 she began to examine the shelves, where 
 she at first found books so defaced by time 
 and damp, and themselves of so ancient a 
 date, that scarcely could she conjecture 
 from their letter what language claimed 
 them for their offspring. But, as she pro- 
 ceeded, she could ascertain many Hebrew 
 and Greek authors ; and as she approached 
 the west end of the apartment, she found 
 productions of a much more recent epoch, 
 and many in languages she understood, but 
 much loj learned for her perusal. Yet she
 
 120 
 
 continued her researches, still in hopes of 
 finding something to suit both her capacity 
 and information ; until, as she was about 
 to pass a window, she discovered in its re- 
 cess a harp, the sight of which instantly 
 riveted her to the spot. It seemed an en- 
 counter with a friend that might hereafter 
 soothe her melancholy ; and from an im- 
 pulse of gratitude she with tremulous touch 
 sounded a few chords; and then, when they 
 reached her ears, looked fearfully around, 
 alarmed at her own temerity. 
 
 *' First Fear, his hand, its skill to try, 
 • Amid the chords bewilderM laid ; 
 And, back recoiPd, he knew not why. 
 E'en at the sound himself had made*.*' 
 
 Again Victoria ventured to touch the 
 harp, and its sound only awakened echo^ 
 and the tremor of anticipating apprehension 
 in her own bosom. Encouraged by this, 
 she again sounded the harp, and again — at 
 every repetition her touch becoming bolder, 
 until her augmenting courage led her on in- 
 sensibly to a melancholy strain, which she 
 
 * Collins.
 
 121 
 
 WHS playing with the most soul-touching 
 pathos, when the sound of footsteps gently- 
 approaching stopped her hands with the 
 electric shock of terror. She turned around 
 in wild dismay to look for an assassin, and 
 beheld Teresa. 
 
 " Ah, donna, pardon, pray pardon my 
 thus startling you !** said the poor old wo- 
 man in a voice broken by tears : '* but that 
 harp, that harp, drew me hither in spite of 
 me 1 Its well known sounds used to give 
 pleasure to my heart; but now, alas ! pain— ^ 
 dreadful, deadly pain 1" 
 
 '^ I will touch it no more, then,** replied 
 Victoria, pushing the harp gently from her. 
 
 " Ah ! that too is so like him. — But do, 
 dearest donna, do play on : for although it 
 gives me pain, it somehow, methinks, gives 
 me pleasure too.** 
 
 Victoria played again ; but Teresa \vept 
 so piteously that Victoria ceased. " Poor 
 Teresa,** said she, ^' I will distress you no 
 longer — I cannot bear to see you thus.*' 
 
 *' Oh !*' replied Teresa, sobbing, '' if I 
 dared to open my full heart to you — if I 
 was allowed to talk of him, I should be less 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 
 
 miserable than I am. But I was forbid to 
 mention his name, upon pain of death." 
 
 *^ Then why are you continually endan- 
 gering your life by speaking of him ?** 
 
 Teresa heard her not ; she was then -lost 
 in meditation : but, after a long pause, she 
 said, " Surely, donna, I can tell you all 
 without mentioning his dear name ! I shall 
 then ease my full heart without disobeying 
 my master." 
 
 " Beware, Teresa ! consider well every 
 possible consequence before you attempt 
 it," said Victoria; who, although anxious 
 hi the highest degree to hear what Teresa 
 had to communicate, yet feared to indulge 
 her in such imprudence. 
 
 " No bad consequence can arise," re- 
 plied Teresa, who, having started a subter- 
 fuge, was eager to relieve her bursting heart, 
 *' if I disobey not Don ManueFs orders ; 
 which only specified, * that I was never more 
 
 to mention my sweet Theod , my sweet 
 
 child's name, upon pain of death." 
 
 " And you had even now but just escap- 
 ed doing so ; therefore I implore, I con- 
 jure you to drop the dangerous subject for 
 ever."
 
 J 23 
 
 ** Fear not, dear donna, I will be more 
 cautious ', and do for pity's sake listen to 
 me, for it will give comfort to a breaking 
 heart. But where is the signora and your 
 attendant ?** 
 
 " Asleep in the parlour." 
 
 *^ I am glad of that. I do not wish that 
 they should know what I have to relate ; 
 their pity would be no comfort to me.** 
 
 " But be cautious, dear Teresa, before 
 you begin ; look well around — that gallery 
 may contain a listener: should you be found 
 with me, it might create a thousand suspi- 
 cions. Indeed you had better give up the 
 matter, for the present at least." 
 
 *' Do not, dear donna, do not say so ; 
 we will trust to Providence for security. 
 Do you sit as if you were playing^ and 
 should you hear any noise, sound the harp : 
 but I really think there is no danger to 
 apprehend just now, as Garcias, Diego, 
 and Juan are gone on the ramparts to 
 the muster, which will detain them some 
 time." 
 
 " Well, then, be it s6 — but be speedy, 
 and spe^k not above your breath." 
 G2
 
 124 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 1 THINK I have already told you it was 
 near nineteen years since I was brought hi- 
 ther. Well then, donna, the morning after 
 my arrival here, the most lovely boy that 
 my eyes ever beheld, of between tw^o and 
 three years old, was delivered to my care by 
 Francisco, with a strict charge about doing 
 my duty ; which I could not attend to, my 
 mind being in such a state of distraction, as 
 you can very well suppose from what your 
 feelings now are. How^ever, the charge, 
 had I listened to it, w^ould have been unne- 
 cessary, for the child's beauty, sweet en- 
 gaging prattle, and heavenly disposition, I 
 do verily believe bewitched mej for he re- 
 conciled mc to my sad fate. I loved him 
 ■ with a tenderness far beyond what I ever 
 felt for my own child, or my grandchildren; 
 and I proved a good, faithful, and affec- 
 tionate nurse to him. But, dear me! I had
 
 125r 
 
 little to do for him to whom nature had 
 been so kind. His beauty and understand- 
 ing were astonishingly great, and his consti- 
 tution and temper as fine as mortal could 
 boast. When he attained his. sixth year, 
 signior Sebastian was taken out of one of. 
 the castle dungeons, and given the care of 
 the sweet child's education; and he was fully 
 equal to the task of rearing so great a ge- 
 nius, for he is deeply skilled in science. He 
 tenderly loved the dear child both for his 
 own sake,, and for being the means, under 
 heaven, of having his fetters knocked off, 
 and removing him from a noisome dungeon 
 to view again the blessed sunj and my dear 
 child loved him because he made him wise. 
 Good signior Sebastian did not make him; 
 for good he was sent into this world, and 
 good he was sent out of it." 
 
 ** AlasI then he is really dead r" exclaimed 
 Victoria. 
 
 Teresa wept assent, and Victoria felt her- 
 self much affected. At length Teresa pro- 
 ceeded : " As my child advanced in years he 
 was less with me, and more with signior Se- 
 bastian: but his grateful affectionate heart 
 G 3
 
 126 
 never forgot me; — and can I him? No,never3, 
 never. Poor lago adored him. Diego was 
 his fag and playmate, and perfectly idolized 
 him J but so did every one that had a spark 
 of virtue in them ^ even Don Manuel loved 
 him once, and then used to look upon him 
 with admiration and delight, until the lady 
 whom he had so tenderly loved would come 
 into his mind ; and then he would send the 
 child out of his sight, and be so dejected, and 
 so restless and wretched, that even those he 
 has injured must have pitied him. I sup- 
 pose he used to think, that if that lady had 
 been his wife he might have had such a son 
 
 as Theo , as my child, and that then he 
 
 would not have fallea into such a wicked 
 way of life. 
 
 *^Iago taught my child all he knew of 
 music: that was not much ; but a hint was 
 sufficient for my boy; give him that, and he 
 would soon find his way to perfection. 
 Dancing v,^as taught him by a French cap- 
 tive. Fencing, beside every thing that could 
 make a scholar of him, he learned from Se- 
 bastian, who gloried in the talents of his 
 pupil. And well he might, for he was — -
 
 Ii27 
 
 ah ! how my heart sickens when I think of 
 what he was little more than one year since! 
 so tall, so finely shaped, so beautiful in face 
 and mind 3 so learned, so accomplished, so 
 mild, and yet so spirited ! Even Garcias 
 trembled at his courage. Gentle as a Iamb, 
 playful as a fawn: — but I will not be te- 
 dious, donna J although, were I to talk of his 
 virtues for years they would seem but as 
 minutes to me, and I should still find some- 
 thing to praise him for. 
 
 " The fatal day on which I saw him last 
 I had got a thorn in one of my fingers. Ahl 
 I little thought how soon one would rankle 
 in my heart. No one could take it out, un- 
 til my child hearing of it came to my relief: 
 with his quick and penetrating eyes he in- 
 stantly found it out, and soon extracted it, 
 feeling more than I did in his apprehension 
 of hurting his poor old nurrse. Oh, donna, 
 donna! had you but beheld his heavenly 
 countenance, illumined with pleasure at 
 having effected my relief, at the moment a 
 band of diabolical savage ruffians, headed 
 by the prince of mischief, Garcias, entered, 
 seized my unsuspecting innocent child, 
 G4
 
 128 
 
 unarmed as he was, and dragged him from 
 my sight for ever. Alas ! he had no wea;- 
 pon of defence, or it could not have hap- 
 pened. Feeble I, made strong by my af- 
 fection, flev^ to his assistance. Vain effort! 
 Garcias felled me to the ground, and never^ 
 never have I since beheld him, or heard 
 the particulars of his cruel, cruel fate. The 
 barbarian Garcias told me exultingly that 
 he was deadj and signior Sebastian's mi- 
 sery and anguish have but too sadly con- 
 firmed the fatal tidings. My despair, with 
 Diego's and poor lago's grief, gave much 
 offence to my master, and we were com- 
 manded not to i«4u)ge it, or even to men- 
 tion Theo 5 my dear lamented child's 
 
 name, upon pain of death. But what can 
 the pain of death be, to the pain of living aa 
 I have since done ?'* 
 
 *' Alas r* said our heroine, infinitely af- 
 fected by this artless tale, *^alas ! with my 
 whole heart I pity you. My own feelings, 
 unacquainted as I was with this amiable, 
 ill-fated youth, but too v^ell tell me what 
 yours and the good Sebastian's must be. 
 But tell me what dsemori could have urged
 
 12^ 
 
 these diabolical fiends to the completion of 
 such an execrable deed?*' 
 
 " Garcias; — he it was that urged Don 
 Manuel to that fell crime.'* 
 
 "Monster of iniquity ! barbarian ! devil ! 
 what could have been his diabolical mo- 
 tive ?*' 
 
 " Envy, hatred, and revenge. My child 
 abhorred the vices of Garciasi and, despising^ 
 him so entirely, could scarcely command 
 the natural sweetness of his manners to 
 wear the appearance of common civility to 
 him. This made Garcias hate him: his 
 virtues caused the wretch's envy 5 and, 
 lastly, my child's courage and humanity 
 awakened his deadly vengeance. There is 
 amongst Don Manuel's seamen an English 
 mariner, named Thomas, as much a ruffian 
 in appearance as the rest, but not in nature. 
 To every child, woman, or old man, Tho- 
 mas is ever kind and gentle ^ but when 
 fighting with those of equal or superior 
 strength, he is a very tiger. To my child, 
 old lago, and myself, Thomas was ever a 
 willing slave. Many and many are the acts 
 of kindness he has done for us all, and many 
 G 5
 
 ISO 
 
 a lashing has he saved poor lago from, by 
 turning the anger of Don Manuel and Gar- 
 cias upon himself. Well, donna, Thomas 
 would swear away, and do all the good he 
 could find to do in this den of wickedness, 
 and was ever grateful for any kindness he 
 received; and once, donna, he brought upon 
 himself the great displeasure of Garcias, by 
 rescuing a woman and her infant from being 
 butchered by him, who had poor Thomas 
 chained for it to the ground of a damp and 
 noisome dungeon, where he allowed not 
 one morsel of nourishment to reach him ; so 
 that the unfortunate creature was starving 
 to death, when my sweet, tender-hearted, 
 grateful child heard of it, who, from the 
 humanity and generous warmth of his heart 
 and temper, eager to save a fellow creature 
 from such a cruel fate, imprudently, with- 
 out the precaution of taking signior Sebas- 
 tian with him, flew to Garcias to expostu- 
 late upon his savage barbarity. Garcias 
 answered by attempting to stab the sweet 
 pleader with a poisoned stiletto which the 
 wretch has always concealed about him, but 
 which my child dexterously wrested from
 
 131 
 the villain, who, outrageous at his disap- 
 pointment, snatched a pistol from the belt 
 of Alonzo, who just then entered. This pis- 
 tol, directed by Heaven, flashed in the pan. 
 The sly lover of mischief, Alonzo, presented 
 Garcias with^its fellow, which my intrepid 
 child made himself master of^ and as to 
 save a life, not sacrifice one, was his aim, he 
 imprudently fired it in the air. Frantic 
 with his three disappointments, Garcias 
 fiercely drew his hanger, and flew on my 
 innocent child j and so, unprovoked, did 
 that dastard Alonzo, who hated him for his 
 virtues. My hero now unsheathed his sword 
 in his own defence, and in a few moments, 
 aided by Providence, disarmed them both. 
 Alonzo, quite in character, ran away; and 
 Garcias, the giant Garcias, prostrate on the 
 ground, begged for mercy from the arm of 
 youth: — and mercy my child told him he 
 should have, on condition only of his deliver- 
 ing up Thomas into his hands. At this mo- 
 ment Don Manuel, who had been a conceal- 
 ed spectator of the affray, made his appear- 
 ance, and, with a sneer, congratulated Gar- 
 cias upon his prowess 5 then told my child
 
 132 
 
 he had nobly won Thomas, who was there- 
 fore at his disposal j and highly compli- 
 mented him upon his valour^ whilst Garcias 
 slunk away boiling with revenge, which he 
 found the fatal time to take." 
 
 " Dear, amiable, ill-fated youth 1" ex- 
 claimed Victoria, *'what a glorious orna- 
 ment has the world lost in himl" For some 
 moments she now paused, extremely affect- 
 ed j and at length inquired *' What became 
 of Thomas?" 
 
 " He was then my child's,'* replied Te« 
 resa, " who did not leave him, as I now have 
 done, in the cold dungeon. Oh, nol on 
 wings of compassion he fled to strike off 
 his fetters, and, with Diego's assistance^, 
 carried the almost expiring wretch to his 
 own bed, where he watched by him for 
 several days and nights with the most anx- 
 ious care, as if Thomas had been the prop of 
 his own life ; and with his own dear hands 
 ^and beautiful ones they were) he fed him. 
 lago and myself madd his kitchen physic ; our 
 best surgeon, Pedro, his medicinal. Among 
 us we set him up again. We were happy, 
 ^nd Thomas truly grateful. Ah, poor Tho?
 
 133 
 
 mas 1 the moment he heard his darllng-s 
 fate, he flew ]ike a madman (as he then 
 was) upon Garcias, and would certainly 
 have killed him, had he not been prevented 
 by superior force: however, he gave him se- 
 veral desperate wounds, and one you may 
 have remarked on his cheek, which will 
 mark him for ever. Thomas was of too 
 much consequence to Don Manuel to be 
 put to death; so they pretended to think 
 him mad, and treated him accordingly, un- 
 til about a month ago, when he w^as re- 
 leased from his confinement and sent out on 
 a cruise." Teresa now ceased, and Victo- 
 ria asked, if she could at all conjecture to 
 whom her lamented c^ild belonged^ 
 
 "I know no more than you do, donna j 
 although I saw his mother once." 
 
 " Indeed 1 When ? Where I Tell me, tell 
 me, dear Teresa!" 
 
 **In this very den of wickedness: and al- 
 though it was many years ago, I remember 
 the day well. One morning Francisco came 
 to me in great agitation, and desired me to 
 take the child into the library. I did so j 
 find, to my utter amazement, here saw a
 
 U4 
 Strange lady and gentleman, who both 
 deemed much agitated, as well as Francisco^ 
 who was pale as death, and trembled exces- 
 sively. 
 
 *' * Is this my child !' said the lady. 
 
 *' ' It is ;' was Francisco's reply. 
 
 *'She took him in her arms, and kissed 
 him eagerly. 'He is an angel/ said she; 
 then pushed him gently from her bosom, 
 for the convenience of looking more ear- 
 nestly upon his face; in doing which, she 
 became so deadly pale and faint that the 
 gentleman was alarmed, and asked her 
 what was the matter. To which she faintly 
 replied, *Can you ask? Do you not see 
 whose countenance he wears ?' The gen- 
 tleman, evidently terrified, spoke to her in 
 a low voice ; and Francisco, who I observed 
 now looked paler than before, and as much 
 agitated as the lady, bade me, in a faulter- 
 ing voice, leave the room, and when the 
 child wanted me I should be called. 
 
 "Dear me I how sad my heart grew! I 
 feared they were come to take away my 
 child, and that I should see them no more, 
 lago told me there was some mystery about
 
 135 
 
 them which he did not like. They were 
 not come as captives, and there had been a 
 long conference between the gentleman and 
 Garcias, and between the lady and Fran- 
 cisco, before the child had been called for, 
 *' After dinner, to my great joy, I wa& 
 summoned into the parlour to pacify the 
 child, who w^as crying for me. Don Ma- 
 nuel, Garcias, and the gentleman, were in 
 earnest conversation when I appeared. The 
 lady called me to her, and asked me a thou- 
 sand questions concerning her child, and 
 offered me a heavy purse, which I refused, 
 telling her I had no way of spending mo- 
 ney, as every thing I wanted was regularly 
 provided for me; but that, if she wished to 
 bind me to her child for ever, she would 
 have the goodness to send a trifle to my 
 poor family, and let them know I was living, 
 well, and in want of nothing but to see 
 them. Deep as Garcias was in discourse, 
 he heard me, and darted a look at me that 
 turned my blood to ice. The lady per- 
 fectly understood his glance, and kindly 
 pleaded in my excuse 5 and said, if they 
 would allow her to grant my request, she
 
 186 
 
 would pledge her life to manage so as to 
 preclude the possibility of any bad conse- 
 quence arising. Garcias was rudely inflex- 
 ible, until Don Manuel interfered, who hu- 
 manely ordered my request to be granted^ 
 and politely complimented the lady upon 
 proofs she had already given of a prudence 
 and skill in management on which he was 
 content to risk his safety. 
 
 *' I was very grateful for this; and the 
 lady took down my family's name and 
 abode, and promised to allow them twenty 
 crowns a year during my life as a recom- 
 pense for my care of her child. After that 
 she again talked of the child, and said it 
 would break her heart to part with him, 
 and that she wished to take the sweet en- 
 gaging prattler with her. It was now the 
 gentleman's turn to be quick of hearing, 
 for he immediately exclaimed, 'How could 
 such an absurd wish enter your mind ? You 
 too well know the impossibility of such a 
 thing.' 
 
 " ' Nay,' she replied, while fire flashed 
 from her eyes, 'although I too well know my 
 wish cannot be gratified^ it was natural that
 
 T3T 
 
 I should form it; nor did it merit your dis- 
 pleasure, my lord : but, to be sure, you who 
 know not what paj^ental feelijigs are cannot 
 excuse in me the weakness of a mother.* 
 
 "'Ohr replied the gentleman, with a 
 spiteful sneer, ' I shall not pretend to dispute, 
 upon the subject of feeling with one who 
 has evinced such exquisite sensibility y who 
 has given such proofs ofjilial tendeimess,* 
 
 **,The lady only answered with a look of 
 scorn, though she seemed full well to com- 
 prehend his meaning ; for she turned deadly 
 pale, and shook as if she had seen a spectre. 
 By this time the child had fallen asleep, and 
 I was ordered to take him to the nursery, 
 where I now went with a light heart, as I 
 was now assured he was not to be taken 
 from me ; and another thing that gave me 
 great pleasure was, my being convinced, by 
 what the lady said about parental feelings, 
 that this was not the father of Theodore, 
 though he certainly appeared to be che la- 
 dy's husband.'* 
 
 *' Nay, Teresa," said Victoria, ** did you 
 not comprehend her speech as a sarcasm
 
 138 
 
 upon this unnatural father's want of paren- 
 tal feeling ?'* 
 
 ** Oh, dear donna, do not grieve my heart 
 by such a supposition ; for it is natural that 
 we should be grieved at any one we love 
 springing from a bad parentage : and though 
 this gentleman was certainly a very fine 
 handsome man, his countenance evidently 
 betrayed the secrets of a bad heart." 
 
 " I may be wrong. Proceed, dear Teresa.'* 
 " In about two hours after I had takert 
 the child to the nursery, his mother entered 
 with Francisco. She was in tears, and 
 came to take leave of her boy, who still was 
 fast asleep. She would not let me awake 
 him; but she wept so over him, and pressed 
 him so tenderly to her bosom, that I wonder 
 she did not disturb him. At last the gen* 
 tleman, with Don Manuel and Garcias, 
 came into the room. The gentleman told 
 the lady she must go that moment. She 
 begged for half an hour longer. The gentle- 
 man refused, and she was very angry 3 when,: 
 without further ceremony, these three hard- 
 hearted men dragged her forcibly from her
 
 139 
 
 child, and I never saw her more; and worse, 
 she was never, I fear, heard of since.*' 
 
 '* Holy virgin 1" exclaimed Victoria, shud- 
 dering: *' surely they did not murder her?*' 
 
 "Alas! there was little doubt of that^ 
 for poor lago saw them drag her into that* 
 dreadful chamber where the skeleton hangs 
 at the door, and saw the three ruffians re- 
 turn in about an hour, but the lady never. 
 He heard her shrieks too, very loud at first, 
 when they dragged her in^ but they be- 
 came fainter, and at last suddenly ceased 
 after a dreadful groan^'* 
 
 */ Ill-fated woman!'* sighed Victoria. 
 
 *■ Ill-fated indeed; for sure I am her corse 
 had not Christian burial, although I knovV 
 not what they did with it; for, donna, be- 
 cause she was my child's mother (and I then 
 had a good stock of spirits), I had the cou- 
 rage to venture into that room to look after 
 the body; when, oh! San Jagol shall I ever 
 forget what there I saw? But I must not;, 
 dare not tell you, since it would make you 
 more afraid here than you are. So terrified 
 was I by what I sav/ that I fell into a swoon, 
 in which Don Manuel himself found me,.
 
 140 
 
 and brought jne out of that dreadful place^. 
 and I believe the thorough fright I got. 
 saved my life ; for vi^hen Garcias wanted that 
 I should receive the punishment due for my 
 rashness, Don Manuel said I had suffered 
 sufficiently." 
 
 " But did you make any discovery relative 
 to the object you sought ?" 
 
 ''Oh, no: I suppose they disposed of the 
 body before I sought after it. Dear, dear ! 
 what hearts must they have had to mangle 
 such a beautiful creature \'* 
 
 " She was very beautiful then ?" 
 
 **The most perfect beauty my eyes ever 
 beheld, until I saw you, donna; yet you arc 
 very unlike, except in air, which seems to 
 proclaim in you, as well as in her, that you 
 are of noble birth. She then appeared to 
 be full fifteen years older than you now are, 
 and her manner seemed to tell that hers 
 was a daring and proud spirit. There was 
 something so grand in her look and in every 
 movement, that she appeared as if born to 
 command the whole world. Her face, though 
 perfect in beauty, you could find no great 
 pleasure in looking at, for it more surprised.
 
 141 
 
 tfian charmed; vi^e the longer I look at 
 you the more I wish to look : and just so it 
 was with my child ; for your eyes and smile 
 are continually reminding Diego and me of 
 him; for, like you,- when he raised his eyes, 
 it was as it were on purpose to delight every 
 beholder ; and when he smiled we saw how 
 beauty and goodness improved each other's 
 sweetness. Your smiles, to be sure, have all 
 been sad since here you have been, while 
 my child's were generally the reverse ; and 
 yet they have the same effect, arid find their 
 way with equal speed to the heart. But 
 there was something about my child's mo- 
 ther, even when smiling the most conde- 
 scendingly, that overawed and made one 
 tremble. Her complexion was very fine, 
 and her eyes, I believe, were black, for her 
 eyebrows were like jet; but every time she 
 •jnoved them, such flashes, like lightning, shot 
 from them, that I feared to look at them." 
 
 ^'It seems to me," said our heroine, after 
 a thoughtful pause, "a very extraordinary 
 inconsistency, this youth's being left to the 
 society of such abandoned wretches as Don 
 Manuel, Garcias, and Alonzo; at the same
 
 142 
 
 time that a man of worth and honour was 
 ^iven the care of his education, and a wo- 
 anan of virtuous principles selected to at- 
 tend him, at that period of his life when 
 precepts and impressions are likely to take 
 a deep and lasting root." 
 
 '^ He was not left to the society of Don 
 Manuel and his profligate companions, 
 donna. It was very evident that every 
 proper care had been taken of him before 
 he fell to my charge, but by whom I know 
 not ; for I believe we were both brought hi- 
 ther about the same time, as he spoke a 
 language at first which I did not under- 
 stand, which Thomas told me was English. 
 He next fell to my care, and was then al- 
 ways with me in the nursery, which is a 
 room quite separate from the other inha- 
 bited apartments, or in the private gardens 
 belonging to the castle. It was in my 
 power to teach him all that was necessary 
 for such an infant to know, because I was 
 so fortunate as to have had an education far 
 above my situation in life. My father was 
 a very poor goat-herd in Arragon ; and from 
 the circumstance of my being deformed, the
 
 .143 
 
 great lady of our village took compassion 
 on me, and sent me to a neighbouring con- 
 vent to be educated, that my mind might 
 give me comforts which my appearance de- 
 prived me of. It was my benefactress's in- 
 tention, I believe, that I should continue in 
 the convent: but, alas! she suddenly, died; 
 and having made no provision for me, I was 
 sent back to my parents, richer by the in- 
 structions four years* residence at the con- 
 vent had made me than when I left them.; 
 *' It was my father's wish that I should 
 wed the young man who assisted him in the 
 care of our flocks. My husband, though 
 very good, was very ignorant; but he was 
 willing to learn: so I taught him to read 
 and write, and indeed all the little know- 
 ledge I acquired at the convent. We had 
 only one child, a girl; but she, who married 
 a neighbouring herdsman, having a large 
 family, and little to maintain them, I thought 
 it would be a good thing to set up a little 
 day school to teach the ignorant and idle 
 children in the village to read, write, and 
 work. I did so: — it succeeded very well, 
 and its profits made us very comfortable.
 
 U4 % 
 
 So thus you see, donna, I was in the habit 
 of teaching children; and as I learned every 
 moral as w^ll as Christian duty in the con- 
 vent, I took delight in strengthening them 
 in the mind of my sweet child, where I do 
 believe, even had he been left to himself, 
 they would have sprung spontaneously. 
 
 ^' When he attained his sixth year, he 
 was committed to the care of signior Sebas- 
 tian, and resided wholly with him. This 
 library, and those adjoining rooms to which 
 yonder door leads, were occupied by Sebas- 
 tian and his pupil, and they had their meals 
 constantly with Francisco, who has apart- 
 ments sacred to him, contiguous to signior Se- 
 bastian*s; where not one of Don Manuel's as- 
 sociates or his domestics, except Diego and 
 the poor old negro, were ever allowed to 
 enter. Even I, who used to attend upon my 
 child so constantly in Sebastian's apartments, 
 was never in Francisco's. 
 
 " My child was permitted, as he advanced 
 in years, to play all over the grounds, and 
 to go any where with lago or Diego ; and 
 when he grew up, he was allowed to stray 
 where he pleased, except into a few inter-
 
 145 
 dieted apartments; but he never in his life 
 eat a meal at Don Manuel's table, although 
 Don Manuel sometimes dined at Fran- 
 
 cisco*s." 
 
 At this moment Victoria heard a noise: 
 hastily she struck a false chord upon the 
 harp; and before she could recover her mis- 
 take, to her utter dismay Garcias stood be- 
 fore her. 
 
 VOL. I* H
 
 no 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Wretch!** said Garclas, sternly, to 
 Teresa, ^' What brought you here ?" 
 
 Victoria's just acquired knowledge of 
 the crimes of Garcias inspired her with 
 such detestation and contempt, that, quite 
 indignant at his present insolence, her spirit 
 rose superior to her fears, and with quick- 
 ness she replied, " My summons." 
 
 *^ Your summons ! really !*— And may I 
 presume to ask for what purpose was this 
 detestable creature summoned?'* 
 
 "I did not before know,** returned Vic- 
 toria haughtily, '^ that my fate was so very 
 degrading as to compel my being account- 
 able to you for my actions ; but since, alas ! 
 it is so, I tell you, that my companions in 
 misery, overcome by long watching, have 
 fallen asleep. Left to myself, and wishing
 
 147 
 
 to shun my own wretched thoughts, 1 came 
 hither in search of a book to allure my mind 
 from agonising contemplation — I saw this 
 harp — I wished to play — yet fearing to re- 
 main alone, I was happy in Teresa's atten- 
 dance, which Diego informed me I might 
 call for when I pleased." 
 
 " Well, madam, but as I am now here 
 to supply the place of this guardian angel, 
 she may spread her ethereal wings and join 
 her sister seraphs. Go," continued he, 
 waving his hand for Teresa to depart. 
 
 " Stay, I conjure you, Teresa," exclaimed 
 Victoria, with a degree of vehemence not 
 natural to her. "•^ 
 
 " I say begone, wretch, as you value the 
 slender thread by which your miserable 
 existence hangs," — and he stampt his foot 
 with violence. 
 
 The trembh'ng Teresa obeyed ; whilst 
 our heroine felt more indignant than alarmed 
 at his conduct. 
 
 '' Come, come," said the wretch, striving 
 to soften the ferocity of his diabolical coun- 
 tenance into a smile, *' smooth that frown- 
 ing brow, and listen with complacency to 
 H2
 
 148 
 
 what I am about to communicate, as it 
 concerns your happiness as materially as 
 
 mine." 
 
 The wretch's softened countenance awak- 
 ened terror in Victoria's mind ; and she 
 would have flown from him to Octavia, had 
 he not prevented her by extending his arrris, 
 to confine her in the recess of the window 
 where she had been sitting. 
 
 *' Be not alarmed," said he ; '^ and learn 
 that it will be your own fault if I am not 
 your friend. The anxious wish you must 
 have to quit this castle, I suppose you will 
 not affect to deny. Patiently hear me, and 
 you will find that I am willing to aid your 
 escape from hence." 
 
 Victoria looked incredulously; and, trem- 
 bling, re-assumed her seat. Garcias took 
 Teresa's chair, and thus began. 
 
 " Females are too quick-sighted to the 
 admiration they inspire to make it necessary 
 for me to inform you that Don Manuel is 
 seriously captivated by your uncommon per- 
 fections ; but as your penetration cannot 
 have reached to the discovery of his inten- 
 tions, I shall inform you of them. The
 
 149 
 
 very moment be returns, it Is his fixed de- 
 termination to make you his : his will is 
 arbitrary; nor will your concurrence be 
 even asked — he is resolved upon the union, 
 and your fate is inevitable. No more liberty 
 than you now enjoy ever more will be yours; 
 and in this dreadful castle you will live as 
 long as the caprice or jealousy of your 
 tyrant will permit you. Terror and misery 
 will be henceforth the inmates of your 
 breast : and this decree is inevitable, un» 
 less *' 
 
 " Unless what ?'* said Victoria, almost 
 breathless with horror. 
 
 " Unless you will listen to the suit of 
 another who adores you, who justly appre- 
 ciates your worth, who prizes yopr happi- 
 ness above his own, and who has the power, 
 as well as the inclination, to convey you this 
 very night to any asylum you ma}' desire.. 
 Yes, loveliest of creatures, I am that man. 
 I adore you, passionately adore you ; and if 
 you will solemnly promise to be mine, I 
 will this night carry you to a neighbouring 
 convent, where a friend of mine, a reverend 
 monk, will join our hands. On these terms, 
 H3
 
 150 
 and these only, will I restore you to the 
 world. '^ 
 
 '^ On these terms, then, never will I return 
 to it," said Victoria, bursting into tears of 
 grief, horror, and indignation. 
 
 *' Oh revoke that cruel sentence, angelic 
 maid, and beware how you make me your 
 enemy," replied Garcias, catching her by 
 the hand. 
 
 The moment Garcias touched Victoria's 
 hand she uttered a loud shriek, and strove 
 with all her strength to extricate herself 
 from his grasp, but in vain ; he held her 
 hand fast in his, until a tall and horribly 
 cadaverous spectre^ clad in a strange kind 
 of flowing drapery, without noise or any 
 warning, stood before them, looking sternly 
 upon Garcias, who, in terror and amaze- 
 ment, precipitately fied into the piazza. 
 The spectre, turning to look upon Victoria, 
 uttered a piercing cry of horror ; and vi^ith 
 frantic gestures, retreating a few paces from 
 her, suddenly sunk from her sight. Our 
 heroine, in wild dismay, waited to make 
 no farther observations, but swiftly moved 
 towards the parlour, at the door of which
 
 151 
 
 she sunk into the arms of Octavia, who, 
 awakened by her shriek, was going in alarm 
 to her assistance. 
 
 When her agitation had in some degree 
 subsided, Victoria related all that occurred 
 in the library to occasion her alarm ; and 
 the conduct of Garcias awakened new ap- 
 prehensions and uneasiness ; while the sin- 
 gular appearance of the spectre, with his 
 extraordinary exit, filled them with super- 
 stitious fear and amazement ; at the same 
 time that Victoria felt and acknowledged 
 gratitude to Heaven for that interference, 
 whether by substance or shadow, which 
 had rescued her from the further insolence 
 of the wretch Garcias. — Hero soon after 
 awoke ; when these three unfortunate wo- 
 men wanted not themes for conversation to 
 engage them, until Diego and Juan ap- 
 peared to prepare for dinner ; when the 
 former, to the inexpressible joy of our he- 
 roine and Octavia, informed them they were 
 to dine that day alone, as signior Sebastian 
 was obliged to remain for the rest of the 
 day with Francisco; and Garcias had been 
 suddenly called by unexpected business from 
 H4
 
 152 
 the castle. Dinner was shortly after served ; 
 and as there was no one present to intimi- 
 date them, they made a much better meal 
 than they had yet done since their captivity. 
 During the remainder of that day, Diego 
 was remarkably kind, attentive, and re- 
 spectful to them.- He attended them in their 
 walk to protect them from alarms ^ selected 
 from the library some beautiful romances, 
 which he thought might beguile them of 
 their sorrows for an hour or two ; and when 
 with Teresa he conducted them to their 
 chamber, he left them there with the most 
 solemn assurances of perfect safety through 
 that night : and as by the kindness of Diego 
 their spirits laboured not under apprehen- 
 sion of immediate danger, they all enjoyed 
 ;ji comfortable share of sleep ; and in the 
 morning poor Teresa was rejoiced to see 
 her dear young donna less wan and languid 
 than she had hitherto beheld her. 
 
 In the parlour they found Sebastian, who, 
 as usual, received them all with politeness, 
 "but Victoria with the cordiality of real affec- 
 tion : and they were scarcely seated at the 
 breakfast- table, when Alonzo made his un-
 
 153 
 
 wished-for appearance ; who, after paying 
 his compliments to every one with much 
 civility, addressed a very high-flown straia 
 of eloquence to Victoria, in the form of a 
 message from Don Manuel, expressive of 
 his regret at being prevented, by unavoid- 
 able and urgent business, from paying her 
 every homage and attention in his castle. 
 
 Soon after breakfast they all adjourned 
 to the library, where, in a short time, 
 Sebastian took leave ; and our heroine 
 found, in the moment of his departure, 
 the friendly prop upon which she rested 
 snatched away : for not knowing how Alon- 
 zo would conduct himself, the absence of 
 Sebastian awakened a thousand painful ap- 
 prehensions, and she became comfortless 
 and sad. 
 
 Although Alonzo was in his heart almost 
 as great a villain as Garcias, his manners 
 were not so like a ruffian's. You had 
 every mischief to apprehend from Alonzo's 
 treachery, while his cowardice shielded you 
 from unveiled brutality. Victoria's inter- 
 esting and uncommon share of beauty, 
 her unaffected elegance and sweetness of 
 H5
 
 154 
 manners, bad made a deep impression upon 
 Alonzo's fancy; but fear taugbthim to con- 
 ceal it : and tbe more effectually so to do, 
 and to aid bis secret purposes, be affected 
 to be cbarmed by tbe very small sbare of 
 allurements poor Hero bad to boast of, to 
 whom he now paid the most pointed atten- 
 tion, and who received bis assiduities full as 
 favourably as bis vanity could lead him to 
 expect. Hero therefore wished for no 
 other entertainment than the pleasing, be- 
 cause flattering, conversation of Alonzo, 
 who abounded in what is termed small- 
 talk, and was possessed of a thousand little 
 seductive arts, which he now hastened to 
 play off against the too susceptible heart 
 of the unwary Hero; while Victoria and 
 her really sensible companion amused them- 
 selves first by reading, and then by music. 
 They were both first-rate performers upon 
 the harp ; and after each had performed 
 some pieces of wonderful scientific excel- 
 lence, our heroine, at tbe earnest request 
 of Octavia, sung, to her own accompani- 
 ment, some plaintive Italian airs and Vene- 
 tian hymns. Her voice was melody, highly
 
 155 
 
 cultivated by science, and, although it 
 charmed in every strain, seemed particu- 
 larly adapted to sacred music ; since, while 
 feeling energetically guided her fingers, her 
 soul inspired and breathed in every note she 
 sung. 
 
 Alonzo was astonished and charmed to 
 silence; nor could, all the simpering or 
 shallow stratagems of Hero call back his 
 attention, until Victoria's enchanting strains 
 were no longer to be heard ; and they 
 ceased not, at the earnest solicitation of 
 Octavia, until a few moments before they 
 were summoned to dinner. 
 
 Victoria was grieved at not seeing Sebas- 
 tian in the dining-room. Alonzo, who af- 
 fected the manners of Don Manuel, took 
 the upper end of the table, and performed 
 the honours with a degree of civility that 
 almost approached politeness. They had 
 not been long at table, when a negro en- 
 tered with some flasks of wine ; he was 
 habited like Diego and Juan ; his person 
 was of a commanding height, of graceful 
 and striking symmetry ; while his face, in 
 despite of the dark cloud that shaded it.
 
 156 
 
 beamed with benignity and intelligence. 
 After delivering the wine to Diego, he 
 would have retired had not Alonzo desired 
 him to stay, that by learning to attend at 
 table he might supply the place of Juan, 
 who was wanted in another department. 
 The negro, bowing gracefully, took his 
 station by Diego's side. 
 
 Victoria, anxious to observe every new 
 person she saw in the castle, to learn from 
 their countenance, if possible, whether she 
 had any thing to hope or fear from them, 
 took an opportunity of stealing a look at 
 the negro, and caught him in earnest gaze 
 at her. The transient glance of his eyes 
 which modesty allowed her to take seemed 
 beaming with pity and good-will. Grateful 
 for the kindness his looks implied, she felt 
 interested for the fate of this young man, 
 whom she was grieved to see in such a 
 place and in such society j and whenever 
 she encountered his eyes, which, without 
 intending it, was pretty frequently, they 
 seemed to speak anxiety for her fate : 
 and although she could by no means 
 tell how far this young man might have it
 
 157 
 
 in his power to befriend her, yet she had 
 heard and read of such instances of fide- 
 lity, courage, perseverance, and ingenuity 
 among negroes, that she could not divest 
 herself of the flattering hope of his exert- 
 ing himself in her behalf j and when he de- 
 parted v^ith the other domestics after din- 
 ner, she felt so anxious to learn some ac- 
 count of him, that she had the imprudence 
 to ask Alonzo who he was. 
 
 ^' That I know not,'* replied Alonzo, 
 "but believe, although a negro, his parents 
 were of some consequence in South Ame- 
 rica. He fell into Don Manuel's hands 
 some years ago, and has hitherto had an 
 employment out of the castle -, but now, 
 upon the decease of an old negro domestic, 
 Don Manuel has selected this one to sup- 
 ply his place. And now, having answered 
 your question, donna Victoria, may I not 
 hope you will have the goodness to do so 
 by mine. Why did you wish to know who 
 this negro is V* 
 
 Victoria now felt the force of her impru- 
 dence, and was totally unable to reply. 
 Signora Bernini seeing her distress, and
 
 158 
 
 alarmed for its consequences, relieved her 
 embarrassment by affecting on the instant 
 to be seized with a sudden faintness; and 
 the commotion it occasioned naturally called 
 off Alonzo*s attention from the expected 
 reply, which he did not again ask for.
 
 159 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 In some time after Octavia announced her 
 perfect recovery, Alonzo proposed to walk 
 in the grounds. Hero in a moment was 
 ready to attend him. Victoria in passive 
 sadness arose to go. Bernini followed her 
 example; and arm in arm they set out: 
 and the lovers, keeping at humble distance, 
 left them unmolested to their melancholy 
 Ute (i'tite^ until the sombre hue of ap- 
 proaching night reminded them to return. 
 
 Shortly after they entered the piazza Vic- 
 toria heard the sound of voices just beneath 
 her feet 5 and instinctively looking down- 
 wards, beheld, through a chasm in the flags 
 upon which they walked, a strong torch- 
 light, and several ruffians busily employed 
 depositing a coffin in the earth. Fear of 
 Alonzo prevented her exclaiming; and by 
 a gentle motion of her head and hand she 
 directed Bernini's attention to the shocking 
 spectacle. In silent horror they looked and
 
 160 
 
 shuddered, as they seemed to stop for Hero 
 and Alonzo, who were lingering behind 
 them. 
 
 At this moment they were called from 
 their horrid contemplation by the report of a 
 smart cannonading ; issuing, nearly as they 
 could guess, from beneath the eastern ram- 
 part. Alonzo listened for a few moments; 
 but upon some indistinct shouting, a small 
 discharge of musquetry, and a total cessa- 
 tion of the cannon, he suddenly retreated 
 through the garden gate, which he care- 
 fully closed after him, leaving the three 
 captives to themselves and their apprehen- 
 sions. 
 
 Hero now hastily advanced to Victoria 
 and Octavia, who, shuddering, looked again 
 down upon the chasm as they were about to 
 proceed ; but the light had vanished, and all 
 there was total darkness and silence. At 
 the same instant a hollow bound against 
 the pavement called their eyes to some paces 
 distance before them, when they immedi- 
 ately saw a trap-door rise up, and a man 
 spring through it; after him another, and 
 another, until about twenty armed ruhians
 
 161 
 appeared, who all rushed, as they arose, to- 
 wards the gardens ; but the terrified fe- 
 males, on the first appearance of the men, 
 winged with alarm, ran back to the gate, 
 which in their wild affright they could not 
 open ; and seeing the men approaching fast, 
 they, regardless of Diego's interdict, re- 
 treated along the north piazza, the angle of 
 which was close to the garden gate. 
 
 Victoria's speed far outran that of her 
 companions. Bereft of her usual prudence 
 in this moment of terror, she rushed along, 
 unmindful whither, until an immense iron 
 grating in the centre of the piazza stopped 
 her further progress that way. Wildly she 
 looked around for a passage to escape by, 
 and saw in the wall to her right hand, op- 
 posite to the castle, a door open, through 
 which she instantly bounded — the quick- 
 ening steps of her companions, which echo 
 resounded along the vaulted roof of the 
 piazza, augmenting her apprehensions. She 
 was now in a gloomy grass-grown cloister, 
 she heard the door behind her slap with vior 
 lence, and at the same moment Hero utter 
 a piercing shriek. Believing this to be the
 
 162 
 
 dying cry of Hero, she gave herself up for 
 lost j she no longer could be said to run, 
 she almost seemed to fly, and soon was at 
 the end of the clo ister, where a door stood 
 open, through which she darted, and found 
 herself in a thick gloomy wood, among the 
 trees of which she hastily determined to 
 conceal herself, at least while she recom- 
 mended her soul to Heaven, firmly .believ- 
 ing her last hour was arrived. 
 
 Through a thick clump she forced her 
 way; and while she sunk upon her knees 
 to breathe out that pure and fervent piety 
 her heart was full of, her ears were suddenly 
 assailed by the sound of dreadful blows, 
 frantic cries, and piteous moans. Victoria, 
 appalled with terror, arose in dismay to find 
 a new retreat ; but the further she pene- 
 trated into the wood the more wofully di- 
 stinct the horrid sounds became ; until 
 moving from spot to spot, with a vain hope 
 of removing from such a shocking interrup- 
 tion, by some hitherto unexplored passage 
 among the trees, she suddenly found her- 
 self in a small amphitheatre formed by the 
 wood, in the centre of which stood a pyra-
 
 163 
 midlcal monument ; around which a most 
 ghastly figure, covered with wounds and 
 gore, was running with great velocity, and 
 with frantic gestures dealing itself dreadful 
 blows ; while it shrieked and groaned most 
 horribly, or at intervals exclaimed, in a wild, 
 shrill, and terrific voice — " Retribution ! re- 
 tribution !" 
 
 Words cannot express the situation of 
 Victoria, when the moon, full and bright, 
 discovered to her the hideous spectre. Her 
 terror was wound up to the highest pitch, 
 and, almost fainting, she sunk to the ground; 
 and at the same moment the ohantom 
 suddenly ceased its extraordinary exercise, 
 folded its arms across its bleeding breast, 
 and mournfully murmuring out — " Ill-fated 
 house of Ariosto !'* sunk at once from her 
 view, and she beheld it no more. At this 
 moment she heard a rustling among the 
 leaves, and the sound of approaching foot' 
 steps. She was almost convulsed by terror, 
 when a voice exclaimed 
 
 *' Lady Victoria ! lady Victoria ! for 
 Heaven's sake where are you ? Answer me, 
 I beseech you, answer me !**
 
 164 
 
 The voice was unknown to her, but its 
 tones were those of pity and solicitude. 
 Victoria therefore, wishing to point out the 
 spot she could not rise from, answered by 
 a deep-drawn sigh : to speak at that mo- 
 ment she found impossible. 
 
 In an instant a man threw himself on one 
 knee beside her, and with some difficulty 
 raised her from- the ground 5 while the 
 bright beams of the moon di&pelled at once 
 all fear of him, by discovering him to be the 
 negro. 
 
 " Oh, signior T* cried Victoria, wildly,, 
 yet in tremulous accents, '^ I thank, and 
 Heaven will recompense you for your kin4 
 compassion to a hapless stranger, torn 
 from her friends, protectors, and every com-i- 
 fort." 
 
 ^^ For pity's sake,** replied the negro, 
 " be not thus so dreadfully agitated. Com- 
 pose yourself, if possible, dearest madam. 
 Believe me, you have no danger to appre- 
 hend at present ; and when you have, rest 
 assured the humble friend before you will 
 protect you, while life and liberty are spared 
 to him."
 
 165 
 
 Victoria attempted to reply, but could 
 not : she burst into tears of genuine grati- 
 tude; which the negro attempted not to 
 restrain, believing they would be of service 
 to her agitated spirits : and he was not mis- 
 taken ', Victoria at length became much 
 more calm and collected, and delicately 
 hinted a wish to learn the name of a friend 
 to whom she felt herself so much obliged. 
 
 " Hippolyto del Rosario, madam/* he re- 
 plied, " has the honour of now attending 
 
 you." 
 
 " Signior Hippolito," said Victoria, " I 
 wish immediately to leave this wood, where 
 the recollection of what I have just beheld 
 here may deprive me of that share of cou- 
 rage and self-command necessary to enable 
 me to seek my hapless companions, for 
 whose fate I have but too much cause to 
 tremble." 
 
 " They are in perfect safety, signora, and 
 waiting in the cloister in anxious hopes of 
 my being able to bring them some intelli- 
 gence of you." 
 
 " You have then seen them ?" 
 
 " I have, signora 5 and alarmed them much
 
 166 
 more than I could have wished by my pur- 
 suit of them 5 but I thought it better to risk ' 
 that than allow you to go wherever your na- 
 tural fears might hurry you, without a pra« 
 lector to guard you from real danger.*' 
 
 *^ Then what precipitated me hither was 
 only imaginary." 
 
 " Nothing more, madam : and now I beg 
 you to allow me the honour of conducting 
 you to your friends, who are no doubt suf- 
 fering much uneasiness in their solicitude 
 for your safety." Then respectfully placing 
 Victoria's arm within his own to support 
 her, who else would have been unable to 
 proceed, he conducted her through a wind- 
 ing path In the wood, which led to the cloi- 
 ster; and as they walked on he continued : — 
 
 " Alarmed by your long absence, madam, 
 my anxiety for your safety led me, perhaps 
 officiously, to determine upon going in 
 quest of you 5 forming, as I went, an excuse 
 to offer to signior Alonzo for my uncalled- 
 for appearance. I had scarcely turned the 
 angle from the south piazza when I beheld 
 you advancing, and signior Alonzo retreat. 
 Though now assured of your safety, I saw
 
 167 
 
 by your manner that you were alarmed, and 
 determined therefore to approach you. 1 saw 
 the rising of the men -, and instantly con* 
 ceivimg the effect their sudden appearance 
 must naturally have upon you, 1 hastened 
 forward to assure you that they would not 
 molest you. But you fled, and were so 
 many hundred paces before me when my 
 pursuit began, that it was impossible to 
 overtake you, even winged as I was by 
 alarm and anxiety. I reached the cloi- 
 ster the moment your terrified attendants 
 entered it, who attempted to fasten the door 
 against me ; and vain, for some time, were 
 all my efforts to convince them I was not an 
 assassin. At length they recollected me; 
 and became sufficiently collected to inform 
 me, that you were a considerable distance 
 on before them, and I lost not a moment, 
 madam, in seeking you here." 
 
 " Oh, signior !" replied Victoria, "how 
 good, how compassionate you are ! Whilst 
 I have life I must remember your kindness 
 with gratitude. Your active humanity led 
 you on to my assistance, although you could 
 not have imagined how much I stood in
 
 168 
 
 need of it; for it is impossible you could 
 conceive how great the terror I endured 
 has been. Once I should not have been 
 so easily alarmed ; but now, consigned to 
 misery, thrown into the very seat of horror, 
 it is not strange that my mind is shook, that 
 iny resolution trembles. To you, signior 
 Hippolyto, I speak without scruple of my 
 misery, my terrors, since you are not an 
 associate here ; for although I now behold 
 you classed among Don Manuel's people, 
 your air, your manner, your accent, lan- 
 guage, all proclaim you thrown by mis- 
 fortune into a situation ungenial to your 
 mind, and far beneath that you are by birth 
 entitled to/' 
 
 " I was certainly, madam,** returned 
 Hippolyto, " born and educated to fill a 
 much higher situation in life than my pre- 
 sent hunibleone. Fortune delights, in her 
 sportive humours, to vary the conditions of 
 men. In the general opinion of the world 
 my present state may be deemed a fallen 
 one ; but while protecting inr\ocence and 
 beauty from destruction, and taking even 
 one single pang from sorrow, or an alarm
 
 169 
 from fear, I am in my own estimation ex 
 altcd, and must feel happy in my fate.*' 
 
 At this moment they entered the cloister, 
 when they were met by Sebastian, Octavia, 
 and Hero; when Hlppolyto made a respect- 
 ful motion to resign the support of Victoria 
 to Sebastian. 
 
 " No,'' said Sebastian: "you only merit 
 that honour, by having earned it." 
 
 *' And highly ;" said Victoria, " as I esti- 
 mate signior Sebastian, I cannot prove my- 
 self so ungrateful as to throw off the kind 
 protection of my new friend the very mo- 
 ment I find other aid." 
 
 " That would be a line of conduct not 
 perfectly consistent with the courtesy, good 
 nature, and gratitude of Donna Victorians 
 disposition,*' replied Sebastian. ^* To these, 
 then, the companions of your alarm and 
 flight, whose loud shrieks drew me, from 
 a solitary walk, hither, I v^'ill give my sup- 
 port.'* 
 
 And now they bent their course to the 
 castle. Signora Octavia and Hero, lean- 
 ing upon Sebastian, led the way : Victoria 
 followed, supported by Hippolyto ; who 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 
 found himself so much charmed and flat- 
 tered by our heroine's kind and condescend- 
 ing attention to him, that he felt totally at 
 a loss for words to express an acknowledg- 
 ment. He could only look how sensibly he 
 was affected by her goodness; but a cloud 
 obscuring the brightness of the moon at that 
 moment, Victoria saw not the brilliant 
 beams of gratitude that sparkled in his fine 
 and intelligent eyes. 
 
 Silently they walked on, Victoria too 
 much exhausted by her late alarm to speak, 
 and Hippolyto too respectful to interrupt her 
 silence. On turning the angle into the east 
 piazza they encountered Alonzo, who, cast- 
 ing a furious look at Hippolyto, snatched 
 Victoria's hand from his arm ; and Victoria 
 would have snatched it in return from Alon- 
 zo, and restored it to her kind protector, 
 had not the recollection of her imprudent 
 question, having already betrayed too much 
 interest about Hippolyto, taught her com- 
 pliance; while Hippolyto, bowing grace- 
 fully^ retired, with a countenance expressive 
 of sorrow^, anxiety, and chagrin. 
 
 Sebastian, more collected, and much less
 
 .171 
 
 s-ad than usual, remained the whole even- 
 ing in the parlour. At supper, Victoria 
 seated by Sebastian, and atten<ied by Diego 
 and Hippolyto, felt inspired with some de« 
 gree of courage and composure, and, in de- 
 fiance of her late dreadful alarms, conversed 
 with something like cheerfulness and ease. 
 
 At the usual time Teresa and Diego at- 
 tended to conduct the female captives to 
 their apartment, where they passed an un- 
 molested night ', but the occurrences of the 
 evening had agitated the spirits of our he- 
 roine too much to permit her rest to be 
 comfortable or unbroken. 
 
 Ten days now passed heavily on, without 
 the intervention of a single incident worth re- 
 lating. Victoria and Octavia were still com- 
 fortless and sad, in the cruel uncertainty of 
 their fate in that terrible castle, and without 
 the smallest prospect of being ever reHored 
 to their friends; but Hero became each 
 hour more and more reconciled to her des- 
 tiny. Alonzo was indefatigable in his at- 
 tentions and flattery to her; and sad and 
 desperate havoc in her too susceptible 
 heart was the consequence. Sebastian's 
 12
 
 172 
 
 affectionate kindness to Victoria appeared 
 to increase each hour, and he now passed 
 most of his time with her and Bernini in the 
 library or the grounds; while Diego and 
 Hippolyto seemed to find no pleasure equal 
 to that of alleviating the horrors of Vic- 
 toria's situation as much as was in their 
 power, by every attention and act of kind- 
 ness w^hich they could offer. 
 
 On the fourteenth evening of our he- 
 roine's hopeless captivity she observed Juan 
 attend at supper in Diego's stead; and 
 when she and her companions retired to 
 their apartment, he too accompanied Te- 
 resa in conducting them to it : and so 
 alarmed and anxious Victoria found herself 
 at the absence of this friend, that she ven- 
 tured to ask Teresa, *' was Diego ill ?'' 
 
 " No, donna: he is gone from the castle 
 to buy forage for the horses, and provisions 
 for the family, and will not be home until 
 noon to-morrov^." 
 
 When Juan and Teresa were gone, Vic- 
 toria and her companions found themselves 
 so unusually oppressed and overpowered 
 by sleep, that scarcely could they command
 
 173 
 
 their proper attention, or keep their eyes 
 unclosed, while they offered up their pray- 
 ers to Heaven: and their drowsiness in- 
 creasing urged them to expedition, so that 
 they were soon cla4 in their wrappers, and 
 laid upon their beds, in the same manner 
 they had passed every night since their cap- 
 tivity ; and as soon were buried in a pro- 
 found repose, notwithstanding those fears 
 which the absence of Diego created, whose 
 assurances of safety they felt alarmed at not 
 receivingr
 
 174 
 
 CHAP. xir. 
 
 V I c TORI A was awakened at an early hour 
 by the rays of the sun, which stole through 
 the latticed windows and played upon her 
 face, the curtains of her bed remaming un- 
 closed, to enable her to see danger the mo- 
 ment it appeared. On first opening her 
 eyes her recollection was not quite awake, 
 and she stared around her with that momen- 
 tary vacuity of mind often experienced after 
 a heavy slumber. The objects that struck 
 her view were not familiar to her: this 
 bfought on the mental inquiry of '' Where 
 am I ?" which like an electric shock sprung 
 through her heart, rousing at once the hor- 
 rid recollection of her wretched situation : 
 then starting upon her elbow to see if her 
 companions were safe, as was her morning 
 custom, horror at once assailed every faculty 
 of her mind, and, shrieking wildly, she 
 sprung from her bed almost frantic with 
 dismay. Her screams awakened Hero, who.
 
 175 
 
 in violent perturbation, demanded the cause 
 of her alarm. 
 
 *' Oh ! tell me," cried Victoria, in the wild 
 half-shrieking tones of terror, *'am I awake ? 
 Am I not in a hideous dream ? Where is 
 signora Bernini ? Where, where is her 
 bed r 
 
 Hero looked, and saw that both were 
 gone, and no vestige of either remaining; 
 and Victoria, now convinced by Hero's fran- 
 tic astonishment and horror that it was no 
 delusion, flew to the spot where the bed 
 had stood, and, vehemently stamping with 
 her feet to learn if the floor was firm, found 
 it immoveable, and so curiously inlaid, that 
 a separation in any part of it seemed impossi- 
 ble. Next she eagerly examined the wain- 
 scot, then the ceiling : but no clue to the 
 disappearance of Octavia could she disco- 
 ver, the door remaining fast bolted on the 
 inside, as they had left it when they fell 
 asleep. 
 
 Horror chilled Victoria's very soul; and 
 transfixed by despair she leaned against one 
 of the posts of her own bed, until the dread- 
 ful groans of Hero, who lay in strong con- 
 14
 
 176 
 vulslons on the floor, roused her senses into 
 action. Her agony of mind was now al- 
 inost beyond conception : — one, and infi- 
 nitely the most valuable of her companions, 
 conveyed away by some inexplicable means, 
 no doubt for some infernal purpose; the 
 other dying at her feet, without her having 
 power' to afford her the least assistance. 
 Their united shrieks had not brought any 
 one to their aid. Hero became visibly worse; 
 and compassion suggested an idea to Vic- 
 toria, which no power but compassion could 
 have urged her to adopt. 
 
 Although now convinced that horror 
 reigned through every part of this myste- 
 rious place, she determined, as the last ef- 
 fort to save poor Hero*s life, to go immedi- 
 ately to the library; which being contiguous 
 to the apartments of Sebastian, she hoped to 
 make him hear her, and bring him to Hero 
 with medicines proper for her relief. 
 
 Relying upon the early hour (it not yet 
 being five o'clock) for passing unobserved, — 
 compassion lending her firmness, and anxiety 
 to succeed, caution, — she softly, yet swiftly, 
 glided unmolested to the door where the
 
 177 
 
 statue of Neptune stood 5 when, as she was 
 about to turn the angle into the gallery 
 which fronted it, she beheld a man of fero- 
 cious aspect advancing along the gallery, 
 carrying in one hand a lantern, in the other 
 a poniard. 
 
 Never had Victoria felt such a wish to 
 retain her self-possession : she considered 
 the life of poor Hero was at stake: her 
 heart devoutly prayed to Heaven for firm- 
 ness, and she found herself rational and col- 
 lected. To retreat w^ould be absurd and 
 dangerous, as the length of the passage to ^ 
 her apartment could not favour it; she there- 
 fore slid between the pillars of the door, and 
 concealed herself behind the pedestal on 
 which the statue rested. But how nearly had 
 all her courage been subdued, when the ruf- 
 fian entered between the pillars close to her^ 
 and, not observing her, went into the apart- 
 ment, leaving the door partly open ! when 
 our heroine instinctively followed him with 
 her eyes, and saw him proceed almost to 
 the end of a gloomy large room, where 
 stood a feq^ale figure of gigantic stature and 
 fantastic appearance, before whom the man 
 15
 
 178 
 
 suddenly stopped ; and the figure advancing 
 with a hideous yell and extended arms, the 
 man instantly vanished in her embrace. 
 Terror and amazement seemed now to sus- 
 pend all Victoria's thoughts of proceeding, 
 until a deep and lengthened groan of Hero's 
 reached her ear, and restored at once her 
 faculties. Again imploring the protection 
 of Heaven, she bounded forward, and, with- 
 out any further interruption, reached the li- 
 brary doorj which, to her utter dismay, she 
 found fastened beyond her power to open. 
 This washer last resource: it failed her; and 
 shocked and subdued, she uttered a piteous^ 
 sigh,, fainted, and fell. 
 
 On recovering from her swoon, Victoria- 
 found herself in the library, supported by 
 Sebastian, while Hippolyto was anxiously 
 employed using every means for her reco- 
 very. Assured by their presence and pro- 
 tection, her almost exhausted spirits rallied, 
 snd briefly she answered the anxious in- 
 quiries of Sebastian into the cau.se of her 
 being found in such a situation at th^t early- 
 hour, and entreated his assistance for poor 
 Hero, whom she believed expiring.
 
 179 
 
 Sebastian, although shocked and asto- 
 nished at the fate of Octavia, and at all the 
 mystery that enveloped it, and pitying 
 from his soul the horrors of Victorians hap- 
 less situation, was not slow in contriving 
 for Hero's relief, and gave his directions to 
 Hippolyto accordingly. 
 
 Hippolyto, in obedience to Sebastian, im- 
 mediately disappeared, and soon returned 
 with a genteel looking man, of about six- 
 andthirty, with a pleasing intelligent coun- 
 tenance, whom Victoria had never before 
 seen, and who, as well as Hippolyto, had 
 some bottles.of medicine in his hands. They 
 all now hastened softly and unmolested to 
 the chamber, where Hero lay in strong con- 
 vulsions, but which the skill of Pedro put 
 as speedy a termination to as could possibly 
 be expected; and as soon as the poor af- 
 frighted creature was perfectly restored to 
 her senses, Pedro begged leave to depart, 
 lest it should be known that he had afforded 
 a^istance to any of the captives without or- 
 ders from the higher powers; and Sebastian 
 also thought it prudent for himself and Hip- 
 polyto to retire, lest the vile emissaries of 
 the diabolical Garcias should discover Vic-
 
 ISO 
 
 toria's having had courage to summon as- 
 sistance; when he would certainly find 
 means to prevent her receiving any in fu- 
 ture. Hippolyto was grieved at leaving her 
 in such a forlorn situation, but saw the ne- 
 cessity of it; and Victoria, believing in the 
 justice of her venerable friend's apprehen- 
 sions, acquiesced in the prudence of their 
 departure. 
 
 Sebastian, the surgeon, and the negro, 
 had not been very long gone, when Victoria, 
 sitting by Hero's bed-side, deep sunk in 
 mournful meditation upon her own most 
 hapless situation and the mysterious disap- 
 pearance of Octavia, turned her eyes with 
 sad regretting glances to the spot so lately 
 occupied by her poor friend ; when her at- 
 tention was arrested by something in an 
 oval form glittering upon the floor, just 
 where Octavia's bed had stood. It was 
 probably some trinket belonging to her, and 
 this idea made Victoria wish to possess it. 
 Her nerves shook to the quick ; she trem- 
 bled at every movement, and almost feared 
 to approach the spot where the trinket 
 lay. At length, however, she summoned 
 sufficient courage to make the effort, and
 
 181 
 found it to be the miniature portrait of a 
 man, young and transcendently handsome,, 
 set round with brilliants of such value as an- 
 nounced at once its never having been the 
 property of signora Bernini. To v^hom 
 then did it belong ? It could not have 
 been drawn for Don Manuel, even at an 
 early period of his life , for although Don 
 Manuel was as strictly beautiful, the features 
 were unlike hisj nor could bis cc^jntenance 
 ever have borne expression of such a hea- 
 venly cast as beamed in that portrait. 
 
 With this highly admired portrait in her 
 hand, Victoria softly returned to her seat 
 by Hero, who had, from fatigue, fallen into 
 a gentle slumber ; and gazing upon the pic- 
 ture, she, for a time, lost the recollection of 
 her misery in wild conjectures of who 
 the original could be. Sometimes a thought 
 occurred of its having been drawn for The- 
 odore, Teresa's child. But how could it 
 have been so finely drawn and set in the 
 castle? and for whom? Then she conceived 
 it a resemblance of the wretched person 
 who had terminated his sublunary miseries in 
 that very chamber^ so short a period before.
 
 182 
 
 At this rdea she shuddered with horror, and 
 hastily dismissed the probability of it ; for 
 although there was a degree of sadness 
 mixed with sweetness in the expression of 
 the picture, that bespoke the original not 
 free from care, in the countenance she also 
 thought she visibly saw pourtrayed a sub- 
 limity of soul that proclaimed a Christian; 
 not an infidel. Wearied with vague con- 
 jectures, she at length determined to show 
 the portrait to Sebastian, to learn, if possi- 
 ble, from him whose resemblance it was, or 
 at any rate advise with him upon the means< 
 of restoring such valuable property to the 
 right owner. Soon after this determination 
 Teresa's cough announced her approach : 
 and when she beheld the void where the 
 poor signora's bed had stood, and heard 
 that her companions were in total ignorance 
 of how she had been conveyed away, her 
 horror and consternation were extreme; nor 
 did Teresa scruple to assign this mystery 
 to supernatural agents, who she believed 
 guided almost every occurrence in that ter- 
 rible castle. 
 , Hero, weak and ill as she was> resolved
 
 ia5 
 
 upon going down to breakfast, as nothing' 
 could induce her to remain alone in that 
 chamber; and they all believed that Vic- 
 toria would not be allowed to continue with 
 her during the day, and Teresa had too 
 much domestic business allotted to her to 
 permit her stay. 
 
 With difficulty our heroine and Teresa 
 dressed Hero, who was totally unable to as- 
 sist herself; and with still greater difficulty 
 conducted her to the parlour, where Sebas- 
 tian and Alonzo w^ere ready to receive 
 them, Hippolyto attending. 
 
 Hero's pallid and disturbed looks, added 
 to the excessive tremor of her frame, were 
 too visible not to betray the situation of her 
 mind) and as Alonzo. had assumed the cha- 
 racter of her inamorato, it was incumbent 
 upon him to seem concerned at her appear- 
 ance: therefore, with the softest air of ten- 
 derness and anxiety imaginable, he inquired 
 into the cause. Hero was too much agi- 
 tated to answer him: Sebastian and Hippo- 
 lyto were to appear ignorant of what had 
 occasioned hcrperturbationi Teresa had re-
 
 184 
 
 tired, and there was no one to give him in* 
 formation but our heroine. 
 
 Victoria's heart was tremblingly alive to 
 every fine and delicate feeling: in iti, no 
 doubt, was much feminine weakness; but 
 her mind was stored with a large portion of 
 that fortitude which religion inspires. It 
 had Iain dormant until the moment misfor- 
 tune awakened it, and upon every new ex- 
 ertion it seemed to acquire an increase of 
 strength and energy. Her terrors and her 
 sorrows sunk to the bottom of her heart, 
 leaving no traces behind, except the inter- 
 esting languor of melancholy placid resig- 
 nation, infinitely more touching than the 
 distracted agitation of Hero. The moment 
 Sebastian looked upon Victoria, he was so 
 much affected that he was obliged to retire 
 to a window to conceal his emotion from 
 Alonzo ; while Hippolyto, whose sable com- 
 plexion betrayed no change, gazed upon 
 her as if he felt more for her sufierings than 
 prudence would allow him to express. 
 
 In speaking as well as singing, Victoria's 
 voice was melodv j and now each accent
 
 185 
 
 sounded such a melting pathos, whilst she 
 related the cause of Hero's agitation, thit 
 every word penetrated to the souls of her 
 auditors. Alonzo, for once deviating from 
 his nature, felt compassion, and w^s, or af- 
 fected to be, much surprised at the disap- 
 pearance of Octavia; said he would have 
 the castle searched, and promised that an- 
 other apartment should be allotted to our 
 heroine and her attendant, contiguous tc^ 
 those inhabited by the domestics. 
 
 When breakfast was ended, Hippolyto re- 
 tired. Victoria, alarmed, looked beseech- 
 ingly at Sebastian not to go -, who, under- 
 standing her wish, proposed to her adjourn- 
 ing to the library, to seek amusement for 
 the morning. 
 
 Alonzo said he would be of the party,, 
 and that he would read a romance to Hero; 
 while Sebastian and Victoria entertained 
 themselves with more serious study. 
 
 In the library Alonzo seated himself by the 
 credulous Hero, and soon by his artful rhe- 
 toric charmed fear out of her bosom; w^hile 
 Victoria and Sebastian, seated at some di- 
 stance from them, at first affected to be
 
 186 
 deeply engaged by books, and then imper- 
 ceptibly fell into an earnest and interesting 
 conversation. 
 
 In the course of this conversation, Sebas^ 
 tian desired our heroine to consider Hippo- 
 ly to as a zealous and sincere friend, v/hohad 
 it much more in his power essentially to 
 serve her than himself, being so much 
 younger, and not, like hiruy suspected of 
 disaffection to Don Manueh 
 
 Victoria, perceiving the infinite pleasure 
 Hero evidently took in Alonzo's attentions, 
 and the very great partiality he laboured to 
 evince for her, expressed a hope to Sebas* 
 tian that this rising attachment might in 
 time provfe the means of Alonzo's being 
 won over to their interest. 
 
 Sebastian advised her against the en- 
 couragement of such a fallacious hope, 
 " Alonzo," said he, " is the most artful„ 
 sly, consummate villain in Don Manuel's 
 service ; and, believe me, this attachment is 
 only affected by him for the advancement 
 of some secret purpose of his own. This 
 young woman's intellects are weak. That 
 he will soon pervert her little share of sense^
 
 187 
 and undermine her principles, I have not the 
 smallest Qouht : and depend upon it, my 
 child, she will become unfaithful to your in- 
 terests, and commence a spy upon all your 
 words and actions. Be timely suspicious of 
 her ; let nothing tempt you to treat her with 
 that ingenuousness which marks your cha- 
 racter j but conceal from her, as you would 
 from Alonzo himself, every token of amity 
 that passes between you and your few 
 friends in this castle. 
 
 Victoria thanked Sebastian for his ad- 
 vice, which she promised implicitly to obey. 
 As he must know the disposition of Alonzo, 
 while she could not presume to form any 
 judgment of it, she entertained no doubt of 
 the propriety of his conjectures 5 and being 
 w^ell aware of the weakness and vanity of 
 Hero's mind, she feared Alonzo would 
 have but little difficulty in subverting her 
 integrity ; and sadly she sighed to think a 
 being whom she could no longer confide 
 in would be her chief companion. 
 
 Dinner hour at length arrived — they 
 were summoned to the eating-room — 
 Diego and Hippolyto both attended : the
 
 1S8 
 
 former, looking inquisitively around, in- 
 quired '' would not the other lady dine ?" 
 
 " I hope she may, but not with us,'* re- 
 plied Alonzo, forgetful of the dawn of feel- 
 ing Victoria had inspired him with. "She 
 this day feasts with sylphs and fairies, or 
 may. perhaps, be sipping nectar with the 
 gods ;-— but more of that another opportu- 
 nity. In the mean time, however, you 
 must see another apartment prepared for 
 these ladies contiguous to Teresa's, as Don- 
 na Victoria selects that amiable creature for 
 her guardian seraphr Is there a chamber 
 near yours, Diego, that will answer for the 
 accommodation of these ladies ?" 
 
 " Alas ! no, signior, not a comfortable^ 
 one/* replied Diego. 
 
 *' Comfortable !" exclaimed Victoria, in 
 a tone that spoke more than she dared to 
 express. *' Can any chamber in the castle 
 be less comfortable than that in which 
 we have passed our nights since we were 
 brought hither?" 
 
 " The apartments, donnn, near those oc- 
 cupied by the domestics are not furnished 
 In a manner suitable to the accommodation
 
 189 
 
 of a lady of your rank, Diego thinks," re- 
 plied Alonzo. 
 
 *' My rank/* said Victoria, in a cafm but 
 piteous voice, " is amongst the children of 
 misfortune. I wish not for state, to mock 
 my woes. Give me but an humble pallet, 
 in a corner of the meanest hovel, where I 
 may sleep securely, unassailed by appre- 
 hension, and I will indeed be thankful.*' 
 
 Almost immediately after dinner the 
 sound of the same little bell, which once 
 before summoned Sebastian from a conver- 
 sation with Victoria, was heard ; and, as 
 before, Sebastian arose with precipitance 
 and retired. 
 
 Victoria felt his departure as the signal 
 for fear to re-assume its dominion over her 
 mind ; and apprehensively she sat, with her 
 eyes fixed upon the library door, through 
 which he had retreated, until she fell into a 
 long and painful contemplation of the misery 
 and hopelessness of her situation, and the 
 uncertainty of poor Octavia's fate. At length 
 a doleful cry, issuing from beneath her feet, 
 roused her from her reverie ; when, raising 
 her eyes, she perceived that both Hero and
 
 i90 
 
 Alonzo were gone, but when or where she 
 was totally ignorant of. 
 
 Alone for the first time In this fear-inspi- 
 ring castle, she found herself so uncomfort- 
 able, that she fled into the library, consi- 
 dering that room a degree nearer to safety, 
 from its vicinity to Sebastian's apartments. 
 She well remembered the extraordinary 
 figure she had seen there, and the recollec- 
 tion did not a little increase her tremor ; 
 but, whoever or whatever it was, it seemed 
 to come to her assistance; and this idea 
 gave her courage. She seated herself in one 
 of the windows, in a situation to command 
 a view of the whole apartment, over which 
 she cast many a wistful glance. Each look 
 being agreeably disappointed in the horrors 
 it expected to encounter, she began to re- 
 spire more freely, and her poor agitated 
 mind to collect itself into a firm reliance 
 upon that Being who " tempers the wind 
 to the shorn lamb." 
 
 Near an hour she had sat in this situation, 
 when a kind of liquid brightness caught her 
 attention, which after a moment seemed to 
 dart in oblique rays from behind one of the
 
 191 
 
 ^laps at the west end of the room. AI- 
 :hough Victoria's curiosity was powerfully- 
 awakened, she yet hesitated to approach 
 it, until its contirKiing pUyfulIy to emit a 
 diversity of colours convinced her that it 
 was the rays of the departing sun, which by 
 some means penetrated from behind that 
 map : and she was induced to advance to 
 the spot, to find out if possible how this 
 was effected, when, to her utter dismay, 
 she beheld, through a large opening be- 
 tween the map and the wainscot, in a long 
 gloomy kind of apartment, a human figure, 
 close to the aperture, of a most elegant 
 form, clad in flowing white drapery, kneel- 
 ing by the side of a black coffin. 
 
 Half terrified and half ashamed at her 
 intrusive curiosity, Victoria, without at- 
 tempting to offend the elegant mourner by 
 a second look, was retreating back to her 
 seat, when her speed was suddenly arrested 
 by the sight of a majestic figure slowly de- 
 scending the staircase nearest to her. It 
 was the figure of a knight completely cased 
 in black armour. A huge black plume 
 nodded in his casque, confined at bottom
 
 192 
 
 by an immense crescent, formed of bril- 
 liants of dazzling lustre. His lance and 
 shield were slung in his scarf ^ his arms 
 were folded across his breast j and with 
 head erect and solemn steps he moved in 
 equal steady paces, in an undeviating line, 
 from the staircase he had descended to the 
 one at the other extremity of the room, 
 up which he went with the same steady air 
 of solemn grandeur ; and in the darkness 
 of the gallery his figure was soon lost : nor 
 did a single sound betray his movements; 
 for in all the time he had been visible to 
 Victoria's view, though she saw his firm 
 tread, no sound of a footstep had reached 
 her ears. 
 
 The amazement and dismay of our he- 
 roine were so excessive, that for some mo- 
 ments she was unable to move from the spot 
 where the knight had first struck her asto- 
 nished vievr. Infinitely lighter than this 
 armed man as she must be, she could not 
 tread upon the marble pavement with- 
 out a noise, which echo failed not to pro- 
 long: and what grave dignified man would 
 take the trouble of descending a staircase, |
 
 193 
 merely for the pleasure of going up another, 
 that could only lead him to the spot from 
 whence he had set out. These thoughts gave 
 forc€ to the superstitious fears which the 
 time, the place, her situation, all awaken- 
 ed in Victoria's mind ; and she could only 
 believe this knighl: a shadow, sent upon 
 some important business by the unerring 
 Disposer of all things ; and devoutly she 
 now, upon her knees, supplicated from His 
 mercy fortitude to support her through the 
 horrors by which she was encompassed ; 
 and should it be seen fit that she should be 
 doomed to encounter such an awful mis- 
 sionary as that she had just seen, implored 
 that her mind might be sufficiently subli- 
 mated to sustain her through such a trying 
 moment. 
 
 From this short but devout address to the 
 Deity, Victoria arose composed, and firm 
 in the belief that she had no danger to ap- 
 prehend from supernatural beings: but as 
 there were beings in that castle v/ho, in spite 
 of her firm reliance upon Divine. protec- 
 tion, made her shudder, she resolved to avail 
 herself of Diego's humane indulgence 5 and 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 
 
 summoned Teresa, whose cough seemed 
 so troublesome to her, that Victoriar would 
 not ask her to walk in the grounds; nor 
 would she invite her to stray about the pi- 
 azza with her, upon account of the unfi-, 
 nished statue, which she well imagined 
 would call up afflicting recollections in the 
 mind of the affectionate Teresa, But to 
 prevent that well-meaning, but often mis- 
 judging, old woman from augmenting her 
 fears unnecessarily, by talking upon the ex- 
 haustless subject of the horrors abounding 
 in the castle, Victoria took up a volume of 
 Spanish moral tales, which she read aloud, 
 to the great delight of Teresa, as long as 
 the decreasing light permitted her to see ; 
 but often, very often, did her thoughts wan- 
 der from her employment. The elegant 
 mourner and the black knight floated still 
 in her imagination, though the aperture 
 now was closed, and the warrior was no 
 longer to be seen. 
 
 As night advanced, and Victoria could 
 no longer read, she turned her eyes with 
 anxious expectation upon Sebastian's door : 
 but, alas ! he appeared not 3 and' Hero's
 
 195 
 
 long absence began to surprise and alarm 
 her. At length, she heard the sound of her 
 voice and Alonzo*s in the piazza, close to 
 the window where she was sitting. Teresa 
 immediately retreated ; and Victoria drew 
 the harp to her and played : nor was she 
 interrupted by Alonzo or Hero; for, al- 
 though they came into the library, they 
 seated themselves at some distance from 
 her, and continued in earnest conference, 
 delivered in low whispers, until Juan sum- 
 moned them to supper. 
 
 Alonzo led Hero into the parlour; lady 
 Victoria, unnoticed, meekly followed at 
 humble distance. They sat down to table 
 without exchanging a word. Our heroine 
 looked around her — no Sebastian — no Hip- 
 polyto — no Diego. She felt as if every hope 
 had now forsaken her, and she burst into 
 tears. Hero looked at Alonzo for permis- 
 sion to comfort her: but he frowned a ne- 
 gative ; and, aiming at the manners which 
 Don Manuel had adopted towards his lovely 
 captive, affected not to observe her tears, 
 and talked away with much vivacity upon 
 K2
 
 196 
 a hundred frivolous subjects, as If all the 
 party were perfectly tranquil and happy, . 
 
 Victoria supped upon sighs and tears; 
 nor did she make any effort to taste the food 
 presented to her: but great indeed was the 
 degree of comfort her heart derived from the 
 appearance- of Diego, who, with Teresa, 
 came as usual to conduct her to her cham- 
 ber; and while Hero and Alonzo were bid- 
 ding a tender adieu to each other, she in- 
 formed Diego how much his absence at 
 supper had increased the alarm and misery 
 of her situation. He was grieved that his 
 absence (which was occasioned by his being 
 employed in securing the locks, &c. in her 
 new chamber, properly for her safe accom^ 
 niodation) had added to her inquietude; 
 but he felt not a little elated at the idea of 
 his consequence.
 
 197 
 
 CHAP. XIIL 
 
 kJut of the great hall Diego led them 
 through several narrow passages up a small 
 staircase, which terminated in a landing- 
 place of an hexagonal form ; in every com- 
 partment of which, except that occupied 
 by the staircase, was a large door thickly 
 plated with iron, and a chain, with an im- 
 mense padlock, hanging to each. 
 
 Victoria, shuddering, as Diego threw 
 open the door fronting the staircase, asked 
 Teresa, was her chamber near? who an- 
 swering in the affirmative, and pointing 
 to which, our heroine felt a degree more 
 tranquil as she entered a large dismal room 
 furnished in the gloomy style of ancient 
 times. The sad-looking tapestry had been 
 robbed by age of every bright shade which 
 the frugal manufacturer had with sparing 
 hand scattered upon it. Two dark green 
 velvet beds, fringed with gold now tarnish- 
 ed to blackness, stood in the room : some 
 billets blazed cheerfully in the chimney; 
 K3
 
 198 
 their baggage was arranged in proper order; 
 and the whole room looked as if much pains 
 had been taken to make it comfortable. 
 
 " { have arranged every thing as com- 
 modiously as I could for you. Donna Vic- 
 toria," said Diego, as he lit the lamp 
 which was to remain in the room ; '* and 
 should some goblin of the castle carry your 
 abigail away, I think it would be a kindness 
 to you/* Thus saying, he departed with 
 Teresa. But what were Victoria's sensa- 
 tions, when she heard the clinking of the 
 ponderous chain as it was flung across her 
 door; and the jarring of the rusty key, as 
 Diego turned it in the lock and drew it 
 thence ! — Were these sounds the heralds 
 of safety or destruction ? — She felt dis- 
 posed to think well of Diego from his very- 
 great kindness to her ; but still he was de- 
 voted to Don Manuel : and she trembled 
 and doubted. To Hero she now turned 
 her eyes with looks of sympathetic inquiry; 
 and, to her amazement, beheld her undress- 
 ing before a looking-glass, with an easy air 
 of unconcern, which seemed to speak a 
 perfect Security of her own safety at least.
 
 199 
 
 The total expulsion of that even more 
 than feminine cowardice Hero had before 
 upon every occasion manifested could only 
 be accounted for in the fulfilment of Sebas- 
 tion's prediction ; and Victoria beheld her 
 with horror as one devoted to the interest 
 of the horde of villains who ruled in that 
 mysterious place : and with additional hor- 
 ror she saw her step into bed without 
 offering a single prayer to Him, whom, in 
 the moments of fear, she had not failed to 
 supplicate ; and who, in the time of trou- 
 ble and in the hour of gladness, Victoria's 
 heart alike rested upon and adored. 
 
 Shocked, grieved, and alarmed, Victoria, 
 enfolded in a wrapper, threw herself into a 
 high backed elbow chair close to the fire, 
 and soon lost herself in a train of melancholy 
 reflexions. Since the first night of her 
 direful captivity, her mind had not expe- 
 rienced such dreadful sensations ; they al- 
 most approached despair. She seemed now 
 deprived of every friend, unless Diego should 
 prove one ; and of every sympathiser in her 
 sufferings. The fate of the amiable Octa- 
 via,. so mysteriously dreadful — the absenc c 
 K4
 
 200 
 
 of Sebastian and Hippolyto unaccounted 
 for — her doubts respecting Diego — the but 
 too certain apostasy of Hero, all combined 
 to inspire the most gloomy ideas ; and all, 
 joined to the ambiguity and uncertainty of 
 her own apparently hopeless horrid situa- 
 tion, were sufficient to subdue the courage 
 of so young a mind. 
 
 Hero had been buried for nearly two 
 hours in a profound sleep, and Victoria ab- 
 sorpt in all the horrid reflexions a mind de- 
 void of guilt could experience, when the 
 faint murmurs of the expiring embers in 
 the chimney reminded her of the hour. 
 Devoutly she now sunk upon her knees ; 
 and after some time spent in the most pure 
 effusions of sincere piety, she arose more 
 composed, if not more happy ; and was ap- 
 proaching the bed intended for her, when 
 her ears were suddenly appalled by a sound 
 like drawing rusty bolts issuing from the 
 floor between the beds. The instant the 
 noise assailed her ears, she fled behind the 
 high-backed chair : but in an instant rea- 
 son, re-assuming her power, told her how 
 puerile was the asylum she had chosen ;
 
 201 
 
 but it was now too late to seek another, 
 had another more secure presented itself. 
 The noise increased : and Victoria, as she 
 sunk to the ground, saw, from under the 
 chair, a trap-door open in the floor where 
 the noise had proceeded from ; and ere her 
 terrified mind had time to conjecture what 
 this terrible chasm could portend, a ruffian 
 arose through it, bearing in his hand a light- 
 ed torch. Victoria's blood froze at her 
 heart ; and apprehension seemed ready to 
 cut her thread of life, ere the assassin's arm 
 could reach her. The ruffian advanced not, 
 but bent the torch over the gulf, as if to 
 show light to others J and immediately after 
 two more of his accomplices made their 
 appearance, dragging up after them a fe- 
 male, who seemed through fear to have lost 
 the power of walking. 
 
 Victoria's spirits seemed to revive — she 
 believed the female was Octavia : but a 
 second glance convinced her of her error— 
 this female was a much taller, slighter, 
 more youthful figure. The men were so 
 totally absorpt in their .employment, that 
 they observed noc the rooai's being already 
 K 5
 
 202 
 inhabited, but dragged their hapless charge 
 to the foot of the bed Victoria had just 
 been going to occupy, and, taking a rope 
 they had brought for the purpose, tied her 
 fast by the hands to one of the bed-posts. 
 
 " Why/' cried this new victim, " why, 
 O cruel, obdurate men! am I to be bound 
 Jike a malefactor, when you, alas ! but too 
 well know I cannot escape your vile machi- 
 nations ?" 
 
 " Fast bind, fast find,'* replied one of the ^ 
 ruffians gruffly. " You have already given 
 us a devilish deal more of trouble than you 
 are worth, you vixen, you ! and now we 
 have caught you, we will take care to se- 
 cure you :'* and so saying, without per- 
 ceiving they left any light behind thena in 
 the room, he and his two confederates de- 
 parted through the trap-door, which they 
 carefully bolted after them. 
 
 Victoria now respired more freely ; her 
 senses resumed their functions i and she had 
 power to observe this unhappy stranger, 
 whose dress was a black robe, similar to 
 that worn by the boarders in many con- 
 vents in Spain. Her veil, and all the ornar-
 
 203 
 
 itients of her head, were gone, except a 
 profusion of beautiful hair, which had 
 fallen in dishevelled luxuriance around her- 
 neck and shoulders. Her face, which was 
 turned in profile to Victoria, seemed very- 
 youthful, and lovely in the extreme, al» 
 though in some degree disfigured by the 
 evident traces of terror, tears, and unut- 
 terable anguish. Her hands, too, which 
 were fastened together, seemed modelled 
 with exquisite symmetry, and were of snowy 
 whiteness. 
 
 Victoria, beholding in her a fellow-suf- 
 ferer, was anxious to afford her that consola- 
 tion which sympathy could give 3 — but how 
 to approach her, or announce the presence 
 of any person, without alarming the weep- 
 ing stranger, made Victoria hesitate. Trem- 
 bling from former apprehension,, she slowly 
 arose from the ground, and was supporting 
 herself by the back of the chair, consider- 
 ing how to proceed, when a new sound 
 assailed her ears coming from the side of 
 the room parallel with the beds, and seemed 
 as proceeding in a kind of hollow bound 
 from behind the tapestry, whither Victoria
 
 204 
 directed her eyesj and in an instant after 
 beheld a figure in armour recede In the ta- 
 pestry, leaving a black void, through which 
 a venerable-looking old man immediately 
 rushed, v^^ho with much agitation approach- 
 ed the stranger, exclaiming — 
 
 " Directed by your cries, my child, I 
 traced you hither." 
 
 " Gracious Providence 1" she almost 
 shrieked — and, as he cut the cord that 
 bound her, she fell senseless into his arms ; 
 and in that state he bore her through the 
 chasm he had entered by, which instantly 
 closed upon them, and Victoria beheld 
 them no more. 
 
 Amazement now assumed full empire over 
 Victoria's faculties, and, striving to account 
 for all she had seen, subdued for some time 
 every idea of personal fear. At length the 
 recollection of her own calamities recurred 
 with redoubled poignancy ; and reflecting 
 upon the singular composure of Hero, she 
 fek convinced that she had, in some solemn 
 undoubted manner, been assured of pro- 
 tection ; and that to be near her was the 
 most probable place of safety in the room.
 
 205 
 Softly, therefore, she approached Hero's 
 bed, and gently laid herself upon the out- 
 side of it without awaking her. 
 
 Here Victoria respired more freely, and 
 her frame was more at ease than in the 
 chair ; but her spirits had been too much 
 agitated to admit of sleep : and visibly fa- 
 tigued, in body and mind, Teresa found 
 her in the morning, when Diego opened 
 the gloomy prison to admit the old woman; 
 who was preparing to assist Victoria in 
 dressing, when Hero, in an imperious tone 
 of authority, commanded her attendance 
 upon herself. 
 
 Teresa, by the contortions of her brow 
 and lips, seemed only waiting to reply until 
 she could find terms of reproof sufficiently 
 severe to express her indignation at such 
 unparalleled insolence; when Victoria, in 
 a tone of placid sweetness, said, " Pray, 
 Teresa, allow your humanity to give assis- 
 tance to a being more helpless than I am ; 
 for although unaccustomed to dress myself, 
 and not reared in the employment of dress- 
 ing others, I think it very possible I may 
 contrive to put on my own clothes."
 
 20(5 
 
 Teresa, trembling with rage, obstinately 
 eontlnued officiating about Victoria's toilet, 
 and would not move a single step to offer 
 the smallest assistance to Hero ; who, a lit- 
 tle disconcerted by Victoria's sarcasm, did 
 not venture to repeat her command, but 
 contrived to adorn herself in the most be- 
 coming manner ; and took care to lead the 
 way down stairs, and to enter the parlour 
 before our heroine, who was much delight- 
 ed to find Sebastian there with Alonzo, 
 
 When breakfast was ended, Victoria and 
 her venerable friend strolled into the library; 
 and while they affected to be engaged by 
 books, Victoria recounted all her fears, and 
 all the realities that had occurred since they 
 separated the preceding day. 
 
 Sebastian truly sympathised in her suffer- 
 ings, and deplored that his unavoidable 
 absence had augmented her alarms. " Im- 
 portant business had called him away " he 
 said ', '' and was sorry to inform her that he 
 must leave her again in half an hour : but,*' 
 continued he, " I think you may consider 
 yourself perfectly secure at present, my dear 
 child, Don Manuel having again sent strict
 
 207 
 
 orders for your safety ; and although you' 
 may meet numberless alarms, no real dan- 
 ger awaits you, at least until his return ; 
 and then we must trust in the goodness of 
 Providence for finding means to protect you 
 still/' 
 
 Victoria sighed piteously, but was thank- 
 ful for even this short period of certain 
 s^afety. " The absence of Hippolyto, too,'* 
 said she, ^^ made me feel more forlorn. 
 Have I lost that friend, signior ?'* 
 
 " Heaven forbid, my child ! An affair 
 of consequence called him hence yester- 
 day ; he is not yet returned ; and if he stays 
 much longer, I shall indeed entertain a 
 thousand apprehensions for his safety." 
 
 " May Providence protect him !'* said 
 Victoria : " and he seems too amiable not 
 to be the peculiar care of Heaven.'* 
 
 " Ah 1 my child, all who are amiable 
 have not (for some wise reason, no doubt) 
 the same protection from above," Sebastian 
 replied •, and then fell into a deep and ap- 
 parently painful musing. 
 
 Victoria, guessing that the sad fate of his 
 unfortunate pupil now agitated his mind.
 
 203 
 
 wished to draw his ideas from so distress* 
 ing- a subject ; and, not comfortable in the 
 thought of having some other person's va- 
 luable property in her possession, drew the 
 picture from her pocket ; and, telling Sebas- 
 tian how it came into her hands, begged to 
 know if he could tell her to whom it be- 
 longed. 
 
 Sebastian looked at it, and declared he 
 could give her no information relative to it.. 
 
 '^ Alas 1 then, what shall I do with it, 
 signior ?"^ 
 
 *' Keep it until you hear it Inquired for. 
 A thing of so much value, depend upon it,, 
 will not remain long unclaimed. In the 
 mean time, I would not have you mention 
 it ; for so mysterious Is this place, that a 
 thousand to one but the trifling circum- 
 stance of your finding this portrait might 
 turn out the means of subjecting some in- 
 nocent person to destruction ! The way in 
 which you found it leads me to believe 
 something of mystery annexed to it that 
 puzzles me. Were It plundered from some 
 unhappy traveller, the robber would have 
 been more careful of it 5 and the freshness
 
 209 
 
 of the colouring must lead us to suppose it 
 recently drawn, and that therefore it could 
 not have fallen from a place of long con- 
 cealment, when the daemons of mischief 
 conveyed away your poor companion's bed.'* 
 
 *^ From this colouring, certainly, as well 
 as from the brilliancy of the gems, and from 
 the modern style of the setting, we have 
 every reason to suppose this picture very 
 lately drawn,** said Victoria ; and with 
 eagerness she spoke ; " and therefore I 
 should suppose it not impossible, signior, 
 that the original is still in existence." 
 
 " Certainly,*' replied Sebastian, " we may 
 suppose it and wish it too ; as the counte- 
 nance seems to proclaim the possession of 
 many mental as well as personal perfec- 
 tions.*' 
 
 *' Oh ! of every perfection. These eyes, 
 signior, speak the language of a heart re- 
 plete with virtues, and a mind glowing 
 with every grace that wisdom and genius 
 could inspire -, and — *' Victoria suddenly 
 ceased, deeply blushing at the energy of her 
 expressions. Sebastian still listened atten- 
 lively for the completion of the sentence—
 
 210 
 She blushed a still deeper hue ; and afteF 
 two or three efforts to articulate without 
 embarrassment, she continued — " I spoke 
 with the enthusiasm of an amateur in paint- 
 ing, signior. I was accustomed to draw a 
 great deal in my days of happiness, and 
 ever took delight in pourtraying beautiful 
 and expressive countenances — how charmed 
 should I then have been to have had so fine 
 a head as this to copy 1" 
 
 *^ Can you not copy ic now, my fair en- 
 thusiastic artless artist ?/' said Sebastian 
 with an arch smile. 
 
 "Oh! signior, no. The hand trem^ 
 bling with apprehension ill could guide 
 a pencil.'* 
 
 " But although indifferently executed,** re- 
 plied Sebastian gravely, " the attempt might 
 amuse you ; and as much as possible you 
 ought to divert your thoughts from your 
 hapless situation : else, my sweet child, your 
 mind and frame will become too mucli 
 enervated to support you through those 
 trials which may here await you." 
 
 *' Then, signior, I will make the attempt : 
 Bot that my feeble pencilv now more enfee--
 
 211 
 bled by fear, can ever trace perfection like 
 this/* 
 
 ^' I believe/* said Sebastian, " I can fur- 
 nish you with materials/* 
 
 '' It is probable,** she replied, " that my 
 own baggage can supply me : I have never 
 yet found sufficient courage to inspect it ; 
 but have no doubt my drawing implements 
 were sent with me.*' 
 
 Sebastian thought she might venture to 
 her chamber, and draw there for an hour 
 or more without the smallest probability of 
 any interruption, he having overheard Alonzo 
 tell Hero that he would take her round the 
 ramparts ; and he knew Diego and Juan 
 would be busily employed for a couple of 
 hours to come. 
 
 The half-hour was now elapsed that Se- 
 bastian could remain with our heroine. Re- 
 luctantly she saw him depart ; and unmo- 
 lested she gained her own chamber, the 
 door of which she carefully closed after 
 her ; and by no means devoid of apprehen- 
 sion, notwithstanding her venerable friend's 
 assurances, she set about the inspection of
 
 212 
 
 her baggage -, in which she was not long, 
 engaged, until she suddenly ceased. 
 
 '^ What folly Is this !'* thought she : " can 
 a wretched being like me, persecuted, friend- 
 less, forlorn, without a spot to rest securely 
 in, trembling at every sound, and appalled 
 at even the beating of my own heart, can 
 I pretend to guide a pencil, or think to find 
 amusement in an attempt like this ? Ah ! 
 no, no. Sebastian rather hoped than thought 
 I could make the effort." 
 
 Victoria now replaced all of herbaggage 
 which she had removed^ and resolved to 
 return to the library, where she would sum- 
 mon Teresa. As her nerves were so weaken- 
 ed by constant apprehension, she did not 
 like to remain by herself secluded from the 
 inhabited part of the castle; but beyond con- 
 ception was her dismay and consternation, 
 when, on trying to open the door, she found 
 it immoveably fastened by a common spring 
 lock, which could only be opened by the 
 key, which was now at the other side, and 
 every essay to force it proved unsuccessful L 
 
 Wearied by her ineffectual efforts, and
 
 213 
 
 finding no bell In the room, she at length 
 threw herself into a chair, in a state of the 
 most torturing apprehension. It is impos- 
 sible to follow the human mind involved in 
 perplexity through every new idea, so ra- 
 pidly they arise : but, by a long concatena- 
 tion, Victoria was led from the deepest 
 abyss of despair into the calm sunshine of 
 hope ; and better to deserve the protection 
 of that Providence she so firmly depended 
 upon, she devoutly sunk upon her knees, 
 and for some moments soared beyond the 
 scenes of her sufferings : — but to horror in- 
 expressible was she soon recalled by the 
 drawing of the trap-door bolts, sounds so 
 forcibly impressed upon her senses the pre- 
 ceding night, that they instantly roused her 
 from her knees — but to what purpose ? — 
 The door was firmly fastened, and her re- 
 treat that way cut off — day-light would 
 not favour her concealment in the room, as 
 night had done. What could she do ? The 
 door in the tapestry at this moment darted 
 into her remembrance : almost frantic with 
 fear and eagerness, she flew towards it, and 
 strove with all her force to open it, but in
 
 214 
 
 vain. The trap-door began to sink. Wildly 
 she clasped her hands, and in raising them, 
 while she invoked the aid of Heaven, struck 
 them against the warrior's shield ; when im- 
 mediately the figure receded, leaving space 
 sufficient fo her to pass through 3 which, 
 as may be supposed, she lost no time in 
 doing; and cautiously closing the aperture 
 after her, she found herself in total dark- 
 ness; at least the transition from clear light 
 to a faint glimmering of it made it appear 
 so to her for several moments ; during 
 which she feared to move, or almost allow 
 her heart the quick and loud pulsation ap- 
 prehension had roused it to, as she knew 
 not where to move her feet with safety, or 
 whether the men whom she heard speaking 
 in the room she had just escaped from would 
 not trace her to where she had flown for re- 
 fuge. I 
 
 At length her eyes, accustomed to the 
 change of light, began by degrees to distin- 
 guish objects ; and she found herself to be 
 at the top of a narrow cylindrical staircase, 
 closely encompassed by stone-work, through 
 which light was admitted by small chinks.
 
 2J5 
 
 Upon discovering the staircase, she re- 
 solved to venture dov^m. Apprehensively 
 she descended a number of steps, which at 
 Jength terminated in a landing-place of cir- 
 cular form ; in which, to her inexpressible 
 astonishment and chagrin, she could see no 
 door, nor any possible method of further 
 progress. 
 
 What was now to be her fate ? She was 
 uncertain that a return to her chamber even 
 in some hours after would be attended with 
 safety j and if it would, she was not sure 
 but the pass she had escaped by was secured 
 against her return by some impenetrable 
 secret. Minutely she searched every part 
 of the landing-place for some channel to 
 lead her to a more secure retreat ; for that 
 the old man and his daughter had benefited 
 by one the preceding night she could have 
 no doubt. 
 
 Full of chagrin at her cruel destiny, that 
 would not permit her finding out this secret 
 so essential to her safety, she sat down upon 
 the last step of the staircase, and there ru- 
 minated upon her hapless situation. At 
 night, no doubt, when Hero retired to her
 
 21b ^ 
 
 chamber, she should be enabled by her ji 
 means (if every other failed) to extricate ' 
 herself from this gloomy prison : but should 
 she be compelled to announce the place of 
 her concealment, it must naturally point 
 out the way by which the old man and his 
 child escaped, and perhaps prove the means 
 of that interesting female's destruction. 
 This idea was so painful to her feeling ge- 
 nerous mind, that she resolved self-preser- 
 vation alone should force her to attempt 
 the discovery of where she had flown for 
 refuge. But should she not find out any 
 method of escape, and that night Hero, 
 by the influence of cruel fate, might not 
 retire to that chamber, what was to become 
 of her ? She shuddered — but hastily dis- 
 missed the agonising thought, still building 
 hope upon that power her soul rested upon 
 for protection. 
 
 About an hour Victoria had remained In 
 doleful contemplation, when, in changing 
 her position, she perceived the step upon 
 which she sat was made of oak, while all 
 the rest were formed of stone. " Why 
 should this step be unlike the others ?" was
 
 217 
 a question that naturally and instantly oc- 
 curred, and as instantly the cause was con- 
 jectured ; and almost as quickly as the ques- 
 tion and answer were formed, she was bu- 
 sily employed in examination of the step ; 
 when, to her ineffable transport, she dis- 
 covered hinges to it close to the bottom of 
 the step above it, almost obscured by the 
 dim light of the place, and by a quantity 
 of dust time had lodged upon it, but which 
 evidently had lately been disturbed. The 
 situation of the hinges led her to know the 
 step lifted up like the lid of a chest : she 
 trembled with apprehension lest it should 
 be fastened withinside ; and almost feared 
 to try, lest she should experience the grief 
 and disappointment of finding it so. At 
 length, calling upon the aid of Heaven, 
 she, with a very trifling exertion, raised the 
 lid, and beheld some small steps in an 
 oblique direction, up which a faint glim- 
 mering of day-light emanated. She almost 
 shrieked for joy, and without hesitation be- 
 gan to descend. Carefully she closed the 
 place after her ; and when she reached the 
 last step, she found herself suspended over 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 
 a large flat marble, separated from the bot- 
 tom of the staircase upon which she stood 
 by a distance of about three feet. With- 
 out scruple Victoria jumped upon the plat- 
 form, and, stooping down to disencumber 
 her head from the building which concealed 
 the staircase, discovered a flight of about 
 a dozen steps from one end of the platform, 
 which in front was screened by a structure 
 of great breadth and immense height.
 
 219 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Victoria paused for a few moments, to 
 recover breath, and to consider whether she 
 should dare to venture further. Horrors 
 o^reater than those she had encountered 
 within the three last weeks of her life could 
 scarcely assail her. She had escaped with- 
 out injury from the past^ and, firmly rely- 
 ing upon the care of Heaven, hoped to meet 
 with the same protection still. 
 
 These ideas led our heroine down the 
 steps; when she found herself in an immense 
 aisle of a Gothic church, on each side of 
 which were ranged monuments and shrines 
 of beautiful structure; and the place she had 
 just emerged from was most curiously con- 
 cealed from common observation by a shrine 
 of wonderful beauty, where lay the relics of 
 a female saint. 
 
 Struck with awe the most reverential for 
 this hallowed place, Victoria believed her- 
 self to be in a sacred sanctuary, where the 
 L2
 
 220 
 
 assassin's arm had not power to reach Ker. 
 Slowly advancing, still at every step in- 
 voking protection from each saint whose 
 ashes lay there enshrined, she ventured for- 
 ward ; the solemn gloom of the place in- 
 spiring sensations not dissimilar to those 
 awakened by apprehension. At length she 
 reached the termination of the aisle; and 
 a laro:e foldings: door before her kindled for 
 a moment the brightest rays of hope within 
 her bosom. But too soon were they extin- 
 guished : the door was strongly barred/and 
 fastened by immense locks, which she had 
 no means to open. 
 
 Not knowing what plan to pursue, and 
 quite lost in painfully-perplexing musing, 
 she unconsciously walked up the aisle again, 
 passed the shrine she had emerged from, 
 and, before she could collect her ideas 
 into a state for forming any rational plan, 
 reached the other extremity of the aisle, 
 where stood a most superb and beautiful 
 monument almost in ruins — the only re- 
 maining part of which that had escaped the 
 despoiling hand of time and cold neglect 
 instantly awakened her attention. Resting
 
 221 
 
 upon the ruins of a magnificent base v/as 
 a large black marble coffin ; close to which 
 an elegant figure of a female, in fine white 
 marble, knelt in an attitude of grief and la- 
 mentation; — objects which Victoria at once 
 recognised to be the identical ones she had 
 beheld through the aperture in the library, 
 and which had given birth to such fear and 
 surprise. But a short time since and she 
 would have laughed at the phantoms of 
 her own imagination : now they were the 
 phantoms her- acquaintance with misery 
 had created, and her mind was no longer to 
 be influenced by mirth. 
 
 By having seen this monument from the 
 library, she knew this aisle "'adjoined that 
 room ; but whether this hallowed place 
 appertained to Don Manuel's part of the 
 castle, or to Francisco's, she could only con- 
 jecture ; and as it unquestionably was the 
 channel through which, on the preceding 
 night, the old man had been led to rescue 
 his child from Don Manuel's ruffians, and 
 convey her to some sanctuary near, she na- 
 turally concluded that it must therefore be 
 sacred from the power of Don Manuel and 
 L3
 
 222 
 
 his adherents, at least j if not, a secret to 
 them. The more she pursued and reasoned 
 upon this suggestion, the more she felt per- 
 suaded of its probability. Hope now again 
 stole into her tortured breast, re-animating 
 her drooping spirits. She respired more 
 freely ^ her pulse throbbed and her heart 
 palpitated with less violence. Relieved 
 from the icy chill of fear, the blood revisited 
 her lips and cheeksj she could stand with- 
 out trembling, and look around undaunted, 
 She had here no companions but the dead; 
 and, young as she was, the powers of her 
 mind assured her she had only the living to 
 fear : and as she now believed herself in a 
 sanctuary, sacred from the wicked, she re- 
 solved to explore every spot around her, to 
 try if Heaven would permit her to find out 
 the way by which the old man and his 
 lovely daughter had escaped. 
 
 To the right from where Victoria was 
 then standing, branched off, through a large 
 Gothic arch, a dark vault-roofed passage, 
 which seemed as if it led to another aisle run- 
 ing parallel with that she was in. Through 
 this passage she at once determined to §0*
 
 She descended three or four steps into it, 
 and, after moving on a few paces, discovered 
 the nave of the church, separated from the 
 passage by a thick iron grating, through 
 which there w^as no entrance. She therefore 
 proceeded onwards, and, ascending the same 
 number of steps, entered the other aisle; 
 when instantly, upon glancing her eye along 
 it, to her utter dismay she beheld a man, in 
 the dress appropriate to the hidalgo, stand- 
 ing with his back towards her ^ his capa 
 gracefully twisted round his arms, which 
 seemed folded in an attitude of meditation. 
 Fear would have prompted instant re- 
 treat ; yet hope whispering, " This may 
 possibly be the old man," she stopped, and 
 stole another glance ; but saw not the figure 
 of age, nor the smallest resemblance to the 
 object she wished at that moment to behold. 
 The form was so fine, that busy fancy, still 
 searching for new objects of alarm, sug- 
 gested the idea of his being Don Manuel : 
 but another look convincing her this. form 
 was slighter, and more youthful, she hesi- 
 tated whether to retire, or implore the pro- 
 tection of the stranger : but ere she had 
 L4
 
 224 
 
 time for determination, he suddenly turned 
 and advanced towards her, his eyes bent to 
 the ground, as if still musing. 
 
 With the electric spring of apprehension 
 Victoria bounded to her retreat 3 but in her 
 terror, forgetful of the steps, she stumbled 
 and fell with a half articulated exclamation 
 of distress. In a moment she found her- 
 self raised and supported by the stranger. 
 Apprehension now almost deprived her of 
 every faculty : she could not speak, and 
 feared to look upon him, who in the 
 gentlest tones of kindness and compassion 
 soothed her with assurances of perfect 
 safety. 
 
 There was something in the sound of the 
 stranger's melodious voice that almost in- 
 stantly dissipated her dismay, and her alarmed 
 spirits soon felt the influence of some tran- 
 quillising power; and at length she assumed 
 courage sufficient to look upon him to whose 
 humanity she was thus indebted, when every 
 other feeling was absorpt in pleasing asto- 
 nishment — the original of the so much ad- 
 mired portrait was her compassionate sup- 
 porter.
 
 225 
 
 Surprise seemed now to have a mutual 
 effect upon both; each appeared agitated 
 and embarrassed ; the stranger still, how- 
 ever, endeavouring to calm Victoria's vi- 
 sible perturbation, by makibg solemn assu- 
 rances of her having, nothing to fear there, 
 where he could not but express infinite asto- 
 nishment at finding her. 
 
 Victoria, making every effort to calm her 
 fluttered spirits, and collect her mental fa- 
 culties, gently disengaged herself from the 
 stranger's grasp, and, supporting herself 
 against a pillar of the arcade, succinctly re- 
 lated the manner in which she became Don 
 Manuel's captive, and how by an alarm she 
 had been accidentally led to find a passage 
 into those aisles; suppressing, however, the 
 incident of the old man and his daughter, 
 lest she should, by mentioning all she knew 
 of their flight to this young man, uninten- 
 tionally prove the means of betraying them 
 to their enemies. 
 
 The stranger appeared sensibly affected 
 by her interesting artless narrative; and, 
 after deploring the calamities of her situa- 
 tion, tenderly entreated her to sit down 
 L5
 
 226 
 
 a while, until she should perfectly recover 
 the excessive perturbation her fall had oc- 
 casioned : then, with respectful anxious 
 kindness, he led her to the base of a monu- 
 ment in the adjoining aisle, and, seating 
 himself beside her, continued to speak with 
 the most animated energy, although in a low 
 yet distinct voice. 
 
 " Would to heaven," he said, '^ the 
 power were mine to snatch you from the 
 dangers and horrors I too well know every 
 hapless captive in this infernal castle is en- 
 compassed with! But, alas! so am I cir- 
 cumstanced, that my ardent wish to serve 
 the innocent, and crush the wretches who 
 have torn every fibre of my bleeding heart, 
 by cruelties to those I love, must wait the 
 tardy and mysterious measures of those my 
 gratitude has bound me to obey. To rescue 
 from all the accumulated horrors of a dread- 
 ful captivity here, and to save from a deep 
 and direful scheme of diabolical villany a 
 being dearer to me than language can ex- 
 press, was I drawn hither ; and although I 
 now find another amiable and lovely woman 
 a devoted victim to the same insatiate mon-
 
 227 
 ^ters of Iniquity, my indignant soul, my 
 bursting .heart, must throb, must swell, 
 in silent anguish, and my uplifted arm de- 
 lay the blow. Heaven permits it not yet to 
 strike, since at this moment obstacles im- 
 pede my measures, which my single efforts 
 could not surmount. I must submit, with 
 a heart torn by agonising apprehensions for 
 the safety of those dearer far to me than my 
 own existence, until fate, in its own hour, per- 
 mits my attempting the deliverance of those 
 I pant to release from misery and bondage. 
 That hour, I am taught to hope, is not far 
 distant ; and when I am allowed to rescue 
 from impending destruction -that lovely 
 amiable being for whose happiness I am so 
 deeply interested, rest assured that your 
 dreadful captivity shall terminate.*' 
 
 Victoria could thank him only with her 
 tears j which the tender pity his looks, 
 words, and manner all expressed, had 
 taught to flow. 
 
 The stranger, apparently much affected, 
 continued : — " Bound by a solemn and sa- 
 cred oath to conceal from every individual 
 in the pawer of Don Manuel the griefs, per-
 
 228 
 
 plexitles, and mysteries by which I am now 
 encompassed, not even to secure your confi- 
 dence, by being as explicit as my heart would 
 now prompt me to be, can I violate that sa- 
 cred vow given to him whom affection and 
 pity have led into imminent and manifold 
 dangers for me ? Fettered as I thus am, I am 
 conscious I can only appear to you as a 
 doubtful character, and dare scarcely hope 
 that any assertions of mine in favour of my 
 own integrity can find faith with you : yet, 
 under these two obvious disadvantages, I 
 must presume to entreat you to believe that 
 for w^orlds I would not injure or deceive 
 you ; and firmly to rely upon my intention 
 and power of soon releasing you from your 
 dreadful captivity.'* 
 
 '^ Ah, signior," replied Victoria, *^ wish- 
 ing to find you sincere, I feel but too much 
 inclined to believe that truth speaks when 
 you do; but feeling should not alone dic- 
 tate our opinions, and to judgment I dare 
 not apply, since mine is an untried one* 
 Accustomed from my earliest days to the 
 guidance of those who were fully equal to 
 the task, 1 trod no path but those they led
 
 229 
 me through. My guides were skilful, and 
 I had no exertions to make — nothing to 
 fear : but now, alas ! tossed upon a stormy- 
 sea, encompassed by perils that threaten 
 each moment inevitable destruction ; bereft 
 of my pilot, my every support, trembh'ng, 
 I still look around for succour — still hoping 
 to meet it, still fearing to be deceived.'* 
 
 *^ Oh that I might be your pilot, your pro- 
 tector 1" exclaimed the stranger energeti- 
 cally j '' and, as you are now persecuted, 
 comfortless, forlorn, so may I be followed 
 by the just vengeance of Heaven, and be- 
 come of every hope bereft, if I deceive 
 you." 
 
 Victoria was sensibly affected, while 
 doubt and perplexity compelled her to si- 
 lence. Her first feelings were those of firm 
 reliance upon the stranger's honour and sin- 
 cerity ; and it was with much difliculty pru- 
 dence could repress those expressions of im- 
 plicit confidence her heart would have else 
 inspired, by reminding her that in Don Ma- 
 nuel was a striking illustration of specious 
 villany ; like whom this stranger, under an 
 appearance the most amiable, might conceal
 
 230 
 a heart of treachery : and yet, were he real}/ 
 what he wore the semblance of, and what 
 she felt powerfully inclined to believe him 
 to be — honest and sincere, — how ungra- 
 cious, nay, absolutely ungrateful, must her 
 silence appear ! since she well knew no- 
 thing could be more ungenial to a friendly 
 and benevolent heart, than to find its offers 
 of kindness and assistance only meet with 
 cold civility and chilling suspicion. Em- 
 barrassed and distressed, she raised her 
 beautifully intelligent eyes, beaming with 
 seraphic sweetness, to implore the inspira- 
 tion of unerring Providence to actuate and 
 guide her. 
 
 The stranger, easily developing the con- 
 flict of Victoria's mind, hastily exclaimed, 
 in visible emotion, " Why, oh ! why am I 
 not permitted at once to extinguish all these 
 suspicions, which are so unjust to me, and 
 but too painful to your own ingenuous mind 
 to shelter ? Why must I not dare to con- 
 vey you to the safe and honourable protec- 
 tion of that beloved being, who shares in 
 every interest, in every feeling of my heart ? 
 Firom her friendship and protection the
 
 2S1 
 trembling delicacy of your mind would not 
 shrink j for, lovely, amiable, interesting, and 
 unfortunate like yourself, you would in hejs 
 find a kindred heart. She would, with the 
 tender solicitude of sisterly affection, sooth 
 your car,es, dispel your doubts, and shelter 
 you from horror, until the hour of liberation : 
 but a strange and too cruelly mysterious 
 destiny forbids the realising of this my ardent 
 wish. Yet do not, I conjure you, cherish 
 suspicions of my honour , believe me, it is 
 unmerited. Look upon me, I implore you, 
 as a brother ; as a friend faithful to your in- 
 terest, devoted to your cause." 
 
 " No occasion having ever occurred in 
 my days of peace and happiness to call forth 
 the exertions of intellectual virtues," replied 
 Victoria, whilst tears stole unbidden dov^n 
 her pallid cheeks, the soft effusions of that 
 gratitude she now no longer doubted was 
 the stranger's due, " I know not how great 
 or how trifling may be the store of them 
 which I possess J and now, when called upon 
 to think for, to act for myself, I cannot but 
 hesitate, I cannot but tremble, at the deci- 
 sions of an untried judgment. Illusions
 
 232 
 
 may arise to beguile my inexperienced pru- 
 dence : but, as I wish to act with rectitude, 
 Heaven, I trust, will guide me ; and under 
 the idea of this influence I feel as if inspired 
 with firm confidence in your faith, as if I 
 ought to consider you my friend, as if it 
 would be sacrilege against truth and honour 
 to cherish a doubt of your sincerity." 
 
 *' Believe," returned the stranger with 
 the most animated fervour, *' that the same 
 purity which influences your mind actuates 
 my intentions. I may prove unfortunate in 
 your service ; but rest assured you shall ne- 
 ver, no never, find me unworthy that con- 
 fidence you may be induced to repose in 
 
 me." 
 
 At that moment a clock struck one, and 
 a dismal bell tolled sadly on the instant; and 
 the stranger precipitately arose from his seat 
 in evident chagrin. 
 
 "Alasl" said he, "friendship compels 
 me to distress you. I must intreat your 
 immediate return to the castle, since here 
 with safety you can remain no longer." 
 
 " Alas !" exclaimed Victoria, bursting 
 into tears, " and must I return to the castle ?
 
 —must I indeed, signior r" and her voice fell 
 to such a piteous cadence, that savage ears 
 alone could have heard her unmoved. The 
 stranger's bosom heaved with suppressed 
 emotion ; a tear of pity increased the lustre 
 of his fine eyes j and after a painful pause 
 of agitation, he spoke in a voice that falter- 
 ingly betrayed how much he was affected. 
 
 " I fear you must j since I know, alas ! 
 of no alternative. Be assured there are for- 
 cible and invincible reasons for your return 
 into the castle, or. Heaven knows, I would 
 be one of the last persons upon earth to urge 
 it. Were your absence to be discovered 
 by Don Manuel's people before the mom.ent 
 erdained for your effectual escape, or were 
 you to be found here by those whom that 
 bell may draw hither, your destruction 
 w^ould be inevitable. I must therefore con- 
 sign you to temporary misery, to save you 
 from permanent ruin, and effect your imme- 
 diate return by a secret way which was 
 lately revealed to me.*' Respectfully he 
 rwow took her passive, fear- chilled hand, 
 and led her through the arcade into the first
 
 234 
 
 aisle she had entered, still speaking in gen- 
 tlest accents as they walked along. 
 
 " Do not consider me lan£:uid in friend- 
 ship, or devoid of spirit or humanity/* said 
 he, '^ because I do not now boldly attempt 
 your escape. Believe me, no mortal strength 
 or stratagem could now effect it. To re- 
 scue beings infinitely dearer to me than ex- 
 istence from the infernal community of the 
 castle has been for some time past the sole 
 purpose of my mind ; and I have found it 
 an enterprise of such hazard and difficulty^ 
 that it requires the counsel and aid of judg- 
 ment and power far superior to my own ; 
 hut, as I have every reason to believe success 
 will, ere long, bless my anxious undertak- 
 ing, I must intreat the friends I would 
 serve to call forth all the forces of their 
 minds, to sustain them through those severe 
 trials I fear they maybe doomed to encounter 
 until the hour of emancipation/* 
 
 '^ The dangers and difficulties which your 
 humanity leads you into well merit from 
 us every attention to your wishes,'* replied 
 Victoria ; <^ and were I but certain Dca
 
 Manuel would not return to his castle whilst 
 I am destined to remain there, 1 think I 
 could meet whatever trials I am doomed to 
 there with some degree of firmness." 
 
 '^ Don Manuel," said the stranger in 
 evident emotion, ^' is at present engaged in 
 a business of a most diabolical nature ; 
 which, though involved in difficulties, dan- 
 gers, perplexity, and mystery, so deter- 
 mined is he upon success, that nothing, I 
 am persuaded, can induce him to relinquish 
 it at present ; so that before he returns to 
 the castle 1 have no doubt of your being re- 
 stored to liberty." 
 
 By this time they reached the monument 
 of the black coffin, where they stopped. 
 The stranger, springing up behind the fi- 
 gure, pressed a small brass plate concealed 
 among the decorations of a marble tablet, 
 apparently fixed to the wall, but which ad- 
 vanced several inches from its station the 
 moment he touched the plate. Cautiously 
 looking through the small chasm which 
 prudence suiTered him to make, **A11 is 
 ■safe," he said ; " you now may fearlessly 
 {venture without any danger of discovery^**
 
 4 
 
 256 
 Then instructing her in the nature and situ- 
 ation of the springs, which on both sides ac- 
 tuated this pannel, he proceeded : *^ From 
 eleven to one each day you may venture hi- 
 ther, without any apprehension of observers 
 upon either side -, but ever cautiously close 
 the panuel after you have effected your pur- 
 pose i and, as I may have many things of 
 consequence to communicate to you, it will 
 be absolutely necessary for us sometimes to 
 meet ; nay, I ought to see you every day, 
 for the moment of escape may arrive when 
 I least expect it, and I shall have no other 
 means of informing you of it. You must 
 not, cannot, therefore, object to grant me 
 frequent interviews. Promise," continued 
 he beseechingly, " to meet me at this spot 
 by twelve to-morrov/." 
 
 '' I promise," replied Victoria, blushing* 
 *' since I feel persuaded I have no perfidy 
 fo apprehend from you ; and I, alas ! can- 
 not, now consider what propriety would dic- 
 tate in situations less forlorn and wretched 
 than my own." 
 
 The stranger, with the liveliest touches 
 of joy and gratitude beaming over his fine
 
 237 
 
 fine and intelligent countenance, gracefully 
 thanked her for the confidence she honoured 
 him with: then, presenting his hand to her, 
 he assisted her in ascending the pedestal; 
 and opening the aperture wide enough to 
 admit her, " It is almost unnecessary for 
 me," he said, " to intreat a total silence re- 
 lative to me, and your discovery of this 
 place, which, strange as it may appear to 
 you, is yet a secret to Don Manuel and his 
 associates." Then respectfully bowing, he 
 continued: " Farewell until to-morrow. 
 May Heaven protect you! — Believe me your 
 friend." 
 
 " Farewell 1 and may Heaven bless you, 
 my friend!" Victoria falteringly articu- 
 lated, as she passed into the library. The 
 stranger closed the pannel, and Victoria 
 sunk upon the sofa beneath it, in a pertur- 
 bation of spirits not to be described, and 
 scarcely to be conceived. The variety of 
 sensations her ao[itated mind had undero:one 
 since she parted from Sebastian, all left some 
 trace behind them : but Hope, although 
 a trembler, shot some soothing sun-beams 
 through her breast ; while admiration of
 
 238 
 
 her new friend, and pleasing astonishment 
 at finding in her promised deliverer the ori- 
 ginal of that mysteriously-found portrait 
 she so much was charmed with, bore no in- 
 considerable share in her emotions ; whilst 
 the danger she had incurred of observation, 
 in the moment of entering the library, made 
 her shudder with those painful emotions 
 which just escaped danger often as power- 
 fully awakens as still impendmg peril. But 
 how were those feelings of just avoided de- 
 struction augmented, when but in a few 
 moments after Diego entered the room! He 
 approached her with a respectful bowj and 
 white his countenance bore evident marks 
 of agitation, he spoke to her thus : 
 
 '^ Finding that signior Alonzo had chosen 
 to take your domestic from her attendance 
 upon you, donna, I came to these apart- 
 ments to learn if you wished for Teresa to 
 remain with you 5 but here you were not, 
 donna, and I have been since all through 
 the grounds and castle in quest of you, full 
 of apprehension for your safety — at a loss to 
 account for your disappearance.'* He 
 looked with such a scrutinising gaze upon
 
 239 
 
 ber, that Victoria believed her retreat to the 
 church was discovered ; and while her 
 countenance pourtrayed all the terror of 
 alarm, she trembled with increasing vio- 
 lence. 
 
 *' Donna !"^ exclaimed Diego in a tone 
 and with a look of strongly-marked pene- 
 trating inquiry, "donna! I must ask, what 
 has occurred to cause such extraordinary 
 agitation ?** 
 
 *' Unnecessary question !'* replied Victo- 
 toria, bursting into tears. *^ Am I not in 
 Don Manuel's castle ?" 
 
 " And what then?" said Diego sternly, 
 clasping the hilt of his poniard, which he 
 half unsheathed. 
 
 ** Because,'* returned Victoria, quickly 
 recalling her mental powers, — " because, 
 although protected by you, I am yet a 
 stranger here; and the gloom and loneli- 
 ness, you must excuse me if I add, the my- 
 steries of the place, cannot but awaken agi- 
 tation and alarm without new causes." 
 
 Diego sheathed his poniard, and respect- 
 fully retreated several paces from her, while 
 the sternness of his countenance gave way
 
 240 
 
 to a placid but solemn tone. " Have a care, 
 donna/' he said, " that you are not in pur- 
 suit of the phantom Escape: but I hope, 
 and trust, the suspicions which your Jong 
 absence awakened were groundless." For 
 a moment he paused, and then proceeded, 
 gazing keenly at her, as if to develop more 
 than she might choose to reveal. 
 
 " You rested undisturbed in your apart- 
 ment last night, I hope, donna ?" 
 
 Victoria perfectly understood his mean- 
 ing: her conscious heart beat quick with 
 fear of a discovery of that secret she was 
 in possession of j yet her anxious wish to 
 conceal the means of the female's escape 
 awakened dissimulation in her guileless bo- 
 som, and taught her the subterfuge of pre- 
 varication. 
 
 *^ You promised me an apartment," she 
 replied with sarcastic emphasis, *' where I 
 should rest undisturbed. Confiding in your 
 sincerity, I had no apprehension of your de- 
 ceiving me; and you, to whom the secrets 
 of this castle are so well known, can enter- 
 tain no doubt of how tranquilly I passed my 
 night." . «
 
 241 
 
 Diego in his turn now appeared embar- 
 rassed and confused: he hesitated some mo- 
 ments ere he could articulate with firmness. 
 ** Well should I deserve your sarcasm, donna, 
 were I to blame. I had no idea that any thing 
 could occur to alarm you in that chamber; 
 and was, until this morning, totally unac- 
 quainted with the circumstance that did 
 so ; however, I still hoped you had slept 
 undisturbed by those from whom you had 
 no danger to apprehend. Let not this, 
 donna, weaken your faith in me: believe 
 me faithful, and you shall find me so. Yet, 
 if you feel in the least degree averse to sleep- 
 ing in that chamber, you shall have another 
 prepared for your reception." 
 
 Victoria, who had now very powerful 
 motives for wishing to retain that apart- 
 ment, from whence, in the moment of dan- 
 ger, she had a chance of securing a retreat; 
 and believing that all chambers in that cas«» 
 tie were equally accessible; at once re- 
 solved to affect implicit confidence in 
 Diego's faith, as the most likely means of 
 gratifying that wish, and insuring his pro* 
 tection. 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 
 
 "I think," replied she, endeavouring to 
 conceal her anxiety by speaking with com- 
 posure, *' I think I may place a firm reliance 
 upon your sincerity. I desire no other 
 chamber, and shall consider myself per- 
 fectly secure .there., if you assure me 1 hav.e 
 nothing to a^pprehend/* 
 
 Diego felt so pleased and so flattered, that 
 the sweetest smiles of benevolence and sa- 
 tisfaction illumined his strikingly iine coun-' 
 tenance; and the savage ruffian seemed ia 
 one instant to be softened into the sem- 
 blance of every benign and social virtue. 
 
 ^^ May I perish th^ moment after, if I de- 
 ceive you!'* exclaimed he emphatically^ 
 whilst the fire of truth flashed from his 
 speaking eyes. " Every species of alarm or 
 danger which I can foresee or prevent you 
 shall rest in that chamber securely from." 
 
 ^' I went thither this morning to arrarige 
 my wardrobe," said Victoria, ''and was 
 chased from thence by alarm, upon thos^ 
 men again opening that horrid passag.e." 
 
 " They shall alarm 3/0U no more: they 
 went there this morning in pursuit of an- 
 other, not you, donna i but that person has
 
 243 
 by ^ome miracle— or perhaps you — and yet 
 —no, no, that could not be:" — he hesi- 
 tated, paused for a moment, and then pro- 
 ceeded, so occupied by the perplexities of 
 his mind, that he observed not the pitiable 
 confusion he had thrown Victoria into. 
 
 *^ I must request that you will, donna, re- 
 late every incident that occasioned yout 
 alarm last night : and oeware, I intreat 
 you, how you suppress a single circum*- 
 stance, lest you endanger your own safety 
 by doing so." 
 
 This implicated threat shook her courage 
 but not her rectitude, which instantly deter- 
 mined her, even should her own life prove the 
 sacrifice, not to betray the innocent ; and, 
 again, the situation she was involved in led 
 her to what, in other circumstances, the inge- 
 nuousness of her mind would have recoiled 
 from— the subterfuge of evasion. 
 
 *M was alarmed," she replied, *' by the 
 drawing of rusty bolts j and Immediately aft- 
 er I beheld a chasm in the floor, through 
 which a ruffian of horrid aspect arose. You 
 cannot surely wonder that terror, in such a 
 moment, should annihilate every perccp* 
 
 M2
 
 244 
 
 tlon; or that I can tell you no one circum- 
 stance that occurred after that dreadful mo- 
 ment, until I recovered from the effect of 
 my apprehensions, when I found my cham- 
 ber in possession of only Hero and myself, 
 and every thing around remaining in the 
 same state exactly that they were before 
 the ruffian entered." 
 
 *^ It is strange ! very strange!" said Diego 
 thoughtfully : then, after a pause, he again 
 addressed Victoria : ** I pledge myself, 
 donna, for your safety through the night, 
 during the absence of Don Manuel: but in 
 the day-time, I am sorry to say, I can only 
 promise you that protection my arm can 
 give you, since to Alonzo's care my master 
 has committed your days ; and from my soul 
 I wish he had notl" He now looked cau- 
 tiously around, and lowering his voice con- 
 tinued : ^* I know not why it is, but every 
 hour I feel more and more convinced that I 
 could not injure you, even if commanded to 
 it by my master, whose orders, during many 
 years (although often torturing to my feel- 
 ings), I have never disobeyed ; and Alonzo 
 makes me tremble for you. He is a villain
 
 245 
 
 for villany's sake ; not even faithful to his 
 commander when his own interest inter- 
 venes. I am certain he now has mischief 
 in his head — in his heart it ever is; and he 
 is training that vile miscreant, your atten- 
 dant, to be the instrument of his treachery. 
 Beware of them both ; and go no where 
 with them unaccompanied by signior Sebas- 
 tian, Hippolyto, or myself. Hippolyto's su- 
 spicions of him first awakened mine, and 
 you will find us both equally vigilant in 
 warding off, if possible, all impending dan- 
 ger from you.'* 
 
 ''Oh, may Heaven recompense both you 
 and him for your benevolent kindness to 
 me !" exclaimed Victoria, with streaming 
 eyes. *' As for me, poor and forlorn as I 
 am, I can, alas! only thank my friends, and 
 feel my obligations to them.'' 
 
 *' Alas ! donna,'* returned Diego, " small 
 i-s the service within our power to do for 
 you ; but could wq essentially benefit you, 
 the only recompence that we should wish 
 for would be to behold you happy.". 
 
 Victoria took off a valuable ring, and, 
 presenting it to Diego, said, '^ Accept this 
 M 3
 
 246 
 
 as a small testimony of my confidence in 
 your faith/* 
 
 *' As such I receive it," he replied, bow- 
 ing respectfully. *' But first you must un- 
 derstand the full extent of my promises. 
 Firmly bound by the ties of gratitude to 
 Don Manuel, the world could not tempt 
 me to betray him, or prove false to his inter- 
 est j I therefore cannot aid you in an escape 
 from hence, nor would I suffer you to make 
 it, if in my power to prevent you : but even 
 at the hazard of my life will I preserve you 
 from every danger here, unless my master 
 should command me to cease protecting 
 you.'' 
 
 " Alas ! I can expect no more,'* said Vic- 
 toria mournfully. " But tell me, ray good 
 friend, how I can beware of Hero and 
 Alonzo, when so many hours each day I 
 am without other protection than that of 
 Heaven." 
 
 " Do you know how to fire off a pistol ?'* 
 replied Diego, after a pause of considera- 
 tion : " and do you possess sufficient cour 
 rage to make use of one, if driven to extre- 
 mity V
 
 247 
 
 "Desperation would certainly be the 
 best stimulus to my courage/' answered 
 Victoria; "and I know not what self-pre- 
 servation might inspire. My brother, in hap- 
 pier days and in a sportive humour, taught 
 me to fire; though little, little thinking that 
 I should ever have occasion to reap advan- 
 tage from such a masculine acquirement.*' 
 
 Diego drew a small pistol from his belt, 
 and, giving it to her — " Conceal this,'* said 
 he, ** in your girdle, amongst the folds of 
 your drapery, where it will be at hand 
 should occasion call forth an exertion which 
 I am well aware will be highly repugnant 
 to your feelings: but necessity possesses 
 powerful incentives ; and I may venture to 
 promise that the sight of it will be alone 
 sufficient to intimidate Alonzo from any 
 purpose, since he is the veriest coward that 
 ever chose Satan for a guide.'* 
 
 Victoria with a sad heart and trembling 
 hand disposed of the pis-tol as Diego had 
 directed ; when he again repeated his so- 
 lemn promise of affording her every pro- 
 tection, and then departed to execute some 
 domestic business, well knowing that his 
 M 4
 
 248 
 
 lovely charge had then no danger to appre^ 
 hend, since Alon^o's projects, whatever they 
 might be, he was certain wer^ not yet ripe 
 for performance. 
 
 Victoria, again left to ruminate upon the 
 horrors of her fate, soon was buried in pro- 
 found and painful meditation. Amongst 
 the numerous subjects which occupied her 
 thoughts, the portrait was not forgotten; 
 the original of which she had found more, 
 infinitely more, amiable and fascinating than 
 even his striking resemblance had bespoke 
 him to be. She wished to have it in her 
 power to see the object of his attachment, 
 whose perfections he had mentioned with 
 all the ardour of unfeigned admiration and 
 tenderness. Heavily she sighed as fancy 
 resounded his words, and retraced the soft- 
 ened expression of his countenance, when- 
 ever he mentioned this beloved being; who, 
 at length it occurred to her, might be the 
 identical female, so beautiful, so fascinating, 
 so interesting, who had caused her alarm 
 the preceding night. The more she thought 
 upon this idea, the more she was convinced 
 of the probability of it j and if it really were
 
 249 
 
 SO, she could not — no, she could not wonder 
 at the strength and tenderness of his at- 
 tachment. Fervently she wished them as 
 happy as they apparently deserved to be; 
 but she, alas! she knew, was never, never to 
 be happy more. Her cheek sunk in pen* 
 sive sadness on her hatid, her elbow resting 
 upon one arm of the sopha: sadder and 
 sadder she became, until she fell into a state 
 almost approaching to despondence; when 
 some new idea awakened Hope, upon whose 
 pinions she soared, and all her thoughts 
 flew up to heaven. Prostrate she fell, her 
 hands uplifted : for succour she implored, 
 and to be inspired with a patient acquies- 
 cence in the wise decrees of Providence. 
 The tear of piety glistened in her eyes; its 
 purest glow mantled o*er her cheeks ; she 
 felt fortitude and resolution taking posses- 
 sion of her soul> while resignation diffused 
 its balmy influence through her tranquil- 
 Using mind. In this moment Sebastian en- 
 tered; but, as she beheld him not, he gazed 
 in silent admiration upon her, too much re- 
 specting her employment to attempt an in- 
 M5
 
 250 
 
 terruption. At length she arose, re-assumed 
 her seat, and Sebastian approached her. 
 
 " You look more cheerful and composed, 
 my child,'* said he affectionately, *' than 
 when I parted from you this morning: and, 
 may I ask, is this happy change effected by 
 your intercourse with the Deity, or from 
 any circumstance occurring to blunt the 
 poignancy of your misery ?" 
 
 ^' By both, my dear signior," she replied-, 
 deeply blushing at having any terrestrial 
 witness of her fervent devotion, which had 
 sprung from the impulse of her heart in a 
 moment when she believed herself perfectly 
 secure from observation, " since I cannot 
 but allow the soother Hope to draw auspi- 
 cious inferences from the kindness of Pro- 
 vidence, in raising to me so many friends, 
 where I might so well expect to find my- 
 self destitute of any — you, my good signior, 
 Hippolyto, poor Teresa, and Diego. Fev/- 
 children of misfortune can enumerate so 
 many friends." 
 
 " Diego did you say, my child ?'* 
 
 Victoria briefly related all that had passed
 
 251 
 m her last interview with Diego. Sebas- 
 tian was astonished : — Diego, a man who, 
 though no villain by nature, was so strangely 
 infatuated by gratitude to his master, that 
 he ever performed with the most rigid punc- 
 tuality every command, however torturing to 
 his own feelings, of Don Manuel. 
 
 '^ He is surely inspired by Heaven to be- 
 friend me!** said Victoria.^ 
 
 " And softened to pity," added Sebastian, 
 "by the fascinating resignation of the youth- 
 ful innocent sufferer." 
 
 *' Ah 1 signior, I can claim no merit for 
 my resignation; for what could it avail me 
 to murmur at my fate, hapless and singular 
 as it is?" 
 
 ** It certainly could .avail nothing but to 
 increase your misery. Yet few there are, 
 my sweet philosopher, who possess sufficient 
 virtue to submit with unmurmuring acqui- 
 escence to such harsh dispensations of Pro- 
 vidence.'' 
 
 " But when I reflect, signior, that Provi- 
 dence is supreme in wisdom, ever kind to 
 its creatures, and ordaining all things for 
 our ultimate good, although too often per.
 
 252 
 verted by our own blindness and folly from 
 the intended effect, how can I dare to mur- 
 mur? My heart must feel; the woman 
 may tremble; but reason and religion teach 
 me resignation to those severe trials, deemed 
 for some wise, akhough to my shallow fa- 
 culties impenetrable, reason, necessary for 
 me to encounter for my essential advantage^ 
 if not here, at least in a better world.'' 
 
 Sebastian expressed much genuine plea- 
 sure at finding her fortitude and resignation 
 springing from a base not likely to yield— 
 from the only foundation that could have 
 supported the firmness of her mind amid 
 such a variety and accumulation of horrors. 
 Sebastian too was profoundly piousj and 
 they now talked of the Deity and his attri- 
 butes until they almost forgot their captivity 
 and griefsj and their sublimated minds gave 
 to their countenances such sweet touches 
 of tranquil serenity, such as vice could never 
 wear even in the regions of prosperity. 
 
 In some moments after the cessation of 
 their cheering, although serious, conversa- 
 tion, Sebastian asked if Victoria had yet at- 
 teiMpted to sketch the portrait, Victoria^
 
 253 
 
 blushing, answered in the negatl\re ^ and Se^- 
 bastian wishing again to vi8^v it, she pre- 
 sented it to him in total silence. 
 
 " It certainly is a very fine picture, botb 
 in subject and execution,*' said he. Victo-- 
 ria spoke not, and he continued : 
 
 *' If I have any skill in physiognomy, the 
 original of this miniature was blessed with? 
 great mental as well as personal perfections. 
 Do you not agree with me, lady Victoria ?"^ 
 
 Victoria felt painfully embarrassed, and 
 hesitatingly answered, " I think — Yes, 
 signior — certainly." 
 
 ** Yet there is an expression of the most 
 profound melancholy to be discerned here,'' 
 continued Sebastian, still gazing upon the 
 picture, " notwithstanding that tone of 
 sweetness fortitude has evidently spread 
 ever the countenance. It is pitiable to 
 think so young and so amiable a looking 
 man should be unfortunate. If I may pre- 
 sume to form conjectures, his griefs were 
 caused by hopeless love.*' 
 
 Victoria sighed deeply; although she was 
 pretty certain, from what the stranger said
 
 254 
 
 td' her, his attachment was not a hopeless 
 one. 
 
 " I think the woman must have a flinty 
 heart," said Sebastian, *' who could be in- 
 sensible to such perfections." 
 
 So thought his lovely and attentive audi* 
 tress, yet she spoke not one word. 
 
 " But perhaps all these perfections ars 
 only ideal, and that the artist pourtrayed 
 from the bold flights of his brilliant imagi^ 
 nation; whilst the person he was called 
 upon to delineate was in no way so amia- 
 ble, so handsome, or so fascinating, as this 
 picture would lead us to suppose him." 
 
 " Oh ! but he is indeed ! even ten thou- 
 sand times more so, signior, if you will be- 
 lieve me !*' exclaimed Victoria with the 
 most animated emphasis; — when suddenly 
 recollecting her imprudence, she became 
 red and pale alternately; her whole frame 
 trembled; and faint and confused her head 
 sunk upon the elbow of the couch. 
 
 Sebastian, looking earnestly at her, ** Good 
 heavens !" he cried, " you are ill, my child.'* 
 
 " 1 am indeed," she faulteringly said.
 
 255 
 quite subdued by the painful Idea of havings 
 perhaps, by her unpardonable inadvertence 
 betrayed the stranger, and exposed him to 
 that danger he had warned her not to lead 
 him into. " I am indeed, signior; I scarcely 
 know what I have been saying for some 
 minutes past, but believe I have been talk- 
 ing very incoherently." 
 
 Sebastian, in alarm, led her to a seat in 
 the piazza. " What can I get for your re- 
 lief, my dear child?" said he tenderly. 
 
 " Not any thing, thank you, signior; the 
 air has already recovered me." And she was 
 quite well; for as Sebastian took no notice 
 of what her thoughtless words implied, her 
 agonising fears for the safety of her new- 
 found friend subsided, and with them her 
 indisposition. Sebastian, seating himself by 
 her, restored the picture without further 
 comment; and after some moments passed 
 in unimportant questions and answers, Vic- 
 toria asked Sebastian if he knew how Hero 
 had disposed of herself since breakfast ? 
 
 "When taking my* morning walk," he 
 replied, " I beheld that deluded wretch 
 where in my years of captivity here I have
 
 256 
 never been allowed to go. I saw Alonzo 
 leading her round the ramparts: — ^^tis true 
 she was clad in the castle uniform ; but her 
 manner, so ill according with her masculine 
 attire, betrayed her instantly to me ; and 
 Alonzo may have cause to tremble for his 
 temerity, if her disguise concealed her not 
 from the penetrating Diego ; wha would, I 
 am certain, rejoice in any circumstance that 
 could discover to Don Manuel the unwor- 
 thiness of Alonso, and lessen him in his 
 growing favour." 
 
 "Is it not strange, signior, that DIego> 
 "who has yielded himself so implicitly to the 
 guidance of vice, by his uniform obedience 
 to Don Manuel, should still possess suffi- 
 cient virtue to condemn the enormities of 
 Alonzo?" 
 
 ** It is certainly singular, my child : but,, 
 paradoxical as Diego may appear, he is by 
 no means an uncommon character, while 
 the motives which actuate his conduct are 
 difficult to define. He is not the first in- 
 stance, by numbers, which has come to our 
 knowledge, of virtue and villany combined ; 
 $ince even the most consummate villains
 
 257 
 have been sometimes known to give signal 
 proofs of some particular virtue. Diego 
 considers, from long habit, blood-shedding 
 and rapine no crimes; while 1 know he 
 would shrink with horror from the idea of 
 betraying those who repose a confidence in 
 his honour ; and the wealth of the universe, 
 J am persuaded, could not tempt him from 
 his faith to his master. Yet I foresee, ere 
 long, some dormant virtue, added to private 
 enmity, w^ill lead him to what gold could 
 not win him to.'* 
 
 " The horde of wretches who pollute this 
 castle have, for years, been bound together 
 by their mutual interest ; and as we see 
 the greatest empires rise, flourish, and de* 
 cline, so shall we one day witness the fall 
 of this iniquitous commonwealth. Men 
 devoid of principle cannot long live toge- 
 ther without their natural propensity to 
 evil leading them to injure each other as^ 
 w^ell as the world at large. The public 
 good may for a time stifle the embers of 
 private resentment; but fresK fuel adding 
 daily to combustible matter, a flame will at 
 length break out to consume all it meets.
 
 258" 
 With. The seeds of discord have been long, 
 long sown amongst this vile community, 
 which art has hitherto most carefully con- 
 cealed; but now the envenomed plants 
 which have sprung from the deadly soil and 
 seeds of villanyj. hatred, and revenge, are 
 bursting daily from concealment. Animo- 
 sity is now at work; and ere long indivi- 
 dual mining for the destruction of indivi- 
 dual will bring on a general ruin ; and should 
 Providence permit us to survive that mo- 
 ment of horror, we may yet be restored t^ 
 the blessings of liberty and honourable sO'- 
 ciety." 
 
 The sound of approaching footsteps pre- 
 vented the further progress of this convert 
 sation. Hero,, just emerged from her toi^ 
 let, advanced towards them,, and without 
 the incumbrance of respect or ceremony 
 threw herself into a seat by Victoria. Nei* 
 ther herself nor her insolent and affected airs^ 
 which were as conspicuous^ as some very 
 costly jewels which were disposed of to 
 the best advantage amongst her drapery, 
 were honoured by the smallest notice from 
 Victoria or Sebastian,, who. both appeared
 
 259 
 
 to be deeply engaged in a conversation 
 upon the fine arts — a conversation the vv-eak 
 and misguided Hero could not bear a part 
 in, or even understand. 
 
 At length Hippolyto announced dinner; 
 and Victoria was so happy at seeing this 
 her humble friend returned in safety, that 
 her ardent feelings could not be suppressed; 
 and no inconsiderable share of pleasure she 
 conveyed to his bosom, when she sweetly 
 told him how much his absence had alarm- 
 ed, how much his return in safety now re* 
 jpiced her.
 
 26a 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Alonzo was already in the parlour; and 
 dinner passed on in uninteresting dialogue, 
 and without any incident worth relating. 
 Very soon after the cloth was removed 
 and the servants departed, Alonzo retired. 
 Hero attempted not to follow him, but sat 
 amusing herself by calling forth the silver 
 sounds of a very fine repeating watch, richly 
 adorned with gems, obviously a present 
 from Alonzo to her. With horror and pity 
 Victoria and Sebastian beheld the jewels as 
 the price of this poor deluded wretch's in- 
 tegrity ; and whilst she was employed in 
 admiring the treasures vice had lavished on 
 her, Victoria and Sebastian held an inter- 
 esting conversation uninterrupted by her* 
 At length Diego entered the room rather 
 abruptly. 
 
 ** Do you mean to walk this evening, 
 donna?*' said he, respectfully addressing 
 i^imself to Vietoria..
 
 261 
 
 "** Certainly she does/' replied Hero with 
 tnarked quickness. 
 
 Diego, answering Hero only by a con- 
 temptuous glance, repeated his question to 
 Victoria with increased respect, 
 
 *' I should certainly like to walk, if you 
 do not think the air too keen this evening 
 for me, as I seem already to have got a lit- 
 tle cold." 
 
 ** I have been out, donna, and can assure 
 you the evening is so mild, that, if you wrap 
 yourself up warm, a walk would be rather 
 -of service to you. Signior Sebastian will, 
 I suppose, have the pleasure of accompa- 
 nying you ', and I will have the honour to 
 attend with a cloak, that, should necessity 
 require it, shall guard you ff^om evert/ dan^ 
 :g€r that may be in the wind** 
 
 There was so much of impressive parti- 
 cularity in Diego's manner, that Vicjtoria 
 instantly agreed to walk. 
 
 " Or perhaps, donna, instead of walk- 
 ing, you may prefer visiting our observa- 
 tory, which is situated in a part of the 
 grounds you have not yet been in. For 
 particular reasons it has for a length of 
 
 c_
 
 262 
 
 dme been shut up from the Inspection of 
 every one. In it is a remarkable fine orrery> 
 and many things worthy your attention, 
 and which I doubt not signior Sebastian 
 will have great pleasure in showing to you." 
 
 " What, Diego !" said Sebastian in a 
 tone of much surprise, " and dare you ven* 
 ture to admit us ?" 
 
 *' Yes, signior; and I would dare to do 
 much more for lady Victoria : besides, my 
 orders extend only to the exclusion of those 
 who, by a too great intercourse with the 
 heavenly bodies, might be influenced to 
 break their fealty with our community j and 
 as you, signior, and lady Victoria, I may 
 suppose, feel no inclination to become 
 members of our society, your studying astro- 
 nomy cannot affect our interest.'* 
 
 " It would be a high gratification to me 
 to go there," said Victoria, " although my 
 knowledge in the science is not very pror 
 found." 
 
 " Then we will go, my child, since 
 Diego is so good to admit us," replied 
 Sebastian, 
 
 " Then, signior," said Diego, " you had
 
 263 
 
 better allow Hippolyto to attend you, as you 
 inay require assistance : and he knows some- 
 thing of the matter, I believe ; for, if I re- 
 collect aright, you instructed him with '* 
 
 Diego suddenly ceased ; and, to conceal his 
 fast-rising emotions, bowed respectfully, and 
 hastily quitted the room. 
 
 Victoria, knowing the cause of Diego's 
 agitation, was sensibly affected by his man- 
 ner, and trembled for her venerable friend ; 
 who instantly retreated into the library, 
 where Victoria attempted not to follow 
 him, concluding he wished to indulge his 
 feelings unobserved. At length he return- 
 ed, calm and collected ; and taking no no- 
 tice of his little absence, he fell into con- 
 versation with Victoria apart from Hero ; 
 and amongst other things he explained the 
 mystery which had appeared in his and 
 Diego's expressions relative to the observa- 
 tory, which in short w^as occasioned by the 
 following circumstance. 
 
 About six years prior to this period, a 
 wonderfully fine orrery, with a number of 
 astronomical instruments, fell, among other 
 spoils (upon a piratical expedition), into the
 
 264 
 
 liands of Don Manuel ; and the observa- 
 tory belonging to the casrie, which for many 
 years had been falling to decay, was put 
 into complete repair for the reception of 
 these treasures. Sebastian was requested 
 to arrange all the instruments and machi- 
 nery; and in this undertaking he was assist- 
 ed by a man of a remarkably mechanic 
 turn, named Lazarillo, who, next to Gar- 
 cias, was Don Manuel's prime friend and 
 favourite — an infidel, of manners profligate, 
 of a spirit bold and daring -, in short, in 
 every evil propensity an epitome of Garcias 
 at least, if not his counterpart. 
 
 In the arrangement of this machinery 
 Lazarillo was often induced to ask Sebas- 
 tian many questions relative to the science 
 these instruments were made for, the an« 
 swers to which led him on to wish for more 
 information : and when the whole was com- 
 pleted, and that Sebastian displayed to him 
 the wonderful purposes of the whole, he 
 became charmed with the science, and pant- 
 ed for that knowledge in it which the phi- 
 lanthropy of Sebastian soon put him inthe 
 method of obtaining. The more he knew.
 
 265 
 
 the more, Lazarillo became enamoured of 
 the study j he devoted all his leisure hours to 
 it ; and soon, from contemplating such glo- 
 rious works of the creation, he was insensi- 
 bly led to the Creator himself. He could no 
 longer doubt — he looked back upon his 
 life — he trembled — and fled from the castle 
 and his crimes. The most diligent search 
 was made after him by the emissaries of 
 Don Manuel, but to no purpose ; he was 
 not found. Lazarillo had taken refuge in 
 a monastery in France ; and soon after de- 
 voted himself to the silent austerities of the 
 order of Le Trappe, that he might never 
 be tempted to betray Don Manuel, who 
 had been his friend — that he might for ever 
 uninterruptedly contemplate the horrors of 
 his past life, and teach his heart that peni- 
 tence and virtue which he now believed es- 
 sential to his ultimate happiness. 
 
 From this period the observatory vvas shut 
 np, and the keys consigned to Diego, with 
 a strict charge not to allow the adherents of 
 Don Manuel to enter it for the study of a 
 science so destructive to atheism. 
 
 At length Diego appeared, attended by 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 
 
 Hippolyto and Thomas (the English sea- 
 man mentioned by Teresa in her narrative), 
 and they all immediately set out upon their 
 expedition ; wh^n, to Victoria's surprise, 
 she saw the three attendants were armed 
 with carabines. 
 
 On entering the grounds, they turned 
 into a walk where Victoria had never before 
 been ; on which moment Hero left them— 
 not unobserved, but no one thought it ne- 
 cessary to detain her; and the instant of 
 her departure, Diego hastened to excuse 
 his urging Victoria to walk, by giving her 
 his reasons for it. 
 
 *^ Teresa informed me, a few moments 
 before dinner," said he, " that she had just 
 seen Hero cautiously commit aiarge bundle 
 into the hands of Carlos, Alonzo's servant 
 and most devoted creature ; andj about an 
 hour since, Thomas brought me intelligence 
 of Alonzo's having liberated four men who 
 had long been in confinement under suspi- 
 cion of disaffection , and that they, with 
 some more who have lately evinced sym- 
 ptoms of infidelity, were ail last night busily ' 
 employed in refitting a brigantine that has
 
 267 
 lain in one of the creeks for a length of 
 time unused. 
 
 " Soon after I heard this, Carlos entered 
 the kitchen, and carelessly inquired if 
 signior Sebastian had yet retired to his 
 apartments. 1 had now learned enough to 
 awaken my suspicions of him; and his man- 
 ner now only confirmed my apprehensions. 
 My presence, I saw, restrained those ques- 
 tions he wished to ask, and I to hear : I 
 therefore left the kitchen, and concealed 
 myself where I overheard all that passed. 
 He told Teresa, that his anxiety to see the 
 beautiful captive lady was so great, he 
 would esteem it a most particular favour if 
 she would find out for him if the donna 
 meant to walk this evening, and where, 
 that he might obtain a sight of her. Te- 
 resa promising to comply with his request, 
 he departed, in such evident exultation, that 
 my suspicions were converted into convic- 
 tion of meditated treachery; and I there- 
 fore wished lady Victoria to walk out, thus 
 attended, to show Alonzo that he is su» 
 spected: and being'^o complete a dastard, he 
 will certainly give up a project that he finds 
 N2
 
 268 
 
 cannot be accomplished without that kind 
 of contention he is most averse to.*' 
 
 Victoria made her most grateful acknow- 
 ledgments to Diego J and Sebastian pleased 
 and flattered him not a little, by approving 
 of all he had done. 
 
 Upon reaching the observatory, Diego and 
 Thomas stationed themselves at the door, 
 to exclude unwelcome intruders ; while 
 Sebastian, Victoria, and Hippolyto, entered 
 the building ; where Sebastian soon evinced 
 his very superior knowledge in astronomy.; 
 but, shortly complaining of fatigue, bade 
 Hippolyto supply his place, who came for- 
 Avard with that becoming degree of modesty 
 ever attendant upon real merit ; and, in de- 
 spite of her fears and sorrows, he charmed 
 Victoria by his graceful unassuming man- 
 ner of disclosing his most profound scienti- 
 fic information ; and chased her griefs for a 
 time, by the entertainment his explanations 
 and observations afforded. 
 
 Victoria became, every new interview, 
 more and more interested in the fortunes of 
 this young man. There was a distinguished 
 grace and elegance, as well as propriety
 
 269 
 in his language and deportment, a fascina- 
 tion in his manners, she had never seen 
 equaled, except in the stranger she had 
 that morning encountered. Much and 
 anxiously she wished to know Hippolyto*s 
 history ; to learn why a gentleman (for such 
 his every sentiment and gesture proclaim- 
 ed him, and such Alonzo acknowledged 
 him to be,) and of such striking natural 
 and acquired perfections, should submit to 
 the degradation of being a domestic to Don 
 Manuel, without even seeming to repine at 
 his fallen and lost condition. But the em- 
 barrassment she had before brought herself 
 into with Alonzo upon the same subject 
 now taught her caution, and prudence re- 
 strained all inquiry. 
 
 They remained in the observatory until 
 the approach of twilight reminded them to 
 return ; and during their w^alk homeward 
 they at different times observed some strag- 
 gling men, who seemed as scouts sent to 
 reconnoitre. But Victoria and her party ar- 
 rived at the castle unn:solested ; as Diego 
 and Thomas, by way of dispersing some 
 birds of prey, made the rocks and woods 
 N 3
 
 resound with the reports of their cara<- 
 bines. 
 
 When they entered the castle, Diego 
 hastened to secure the doors and windows. 
 *^ We must exert ourselves," said he, " to 
 provide for the safety of lady Victoria until 
 bed-time. After she retires to her chamber 
 she may defy the machinations of Alonzo, 
 and all the scoundrels he has at his com- 
 mand." 
 
 Victoria proposed withdrawing immedi- 
 ately, to save her friends the trouble of 
 guarding her. But none of them agreeing 
 to that proposition, it was determined that 
 Sebastian should remain in the parlour with 
 her, while Hippolyto and Thomas should 
 keep guard in the library ; and when do- 
 mestic business did not require Diego's pre- 
 sence elsewhere, he was to join their watch. 
 
 In a sh^rt time after the commencement 
 of her tete-a-iite with Sebastian, Victoria 
 took up a lute, with a view of amusing her 
 companion, as he had the goodness to give 
 up his own pursuits to stay and protect her: 
 and after playing a few sweetly simple airs,, 
 Sebastian entreated her to singj and anxious
 
 2tl 
 
 to oblige him, she instantly complied, with 
 such thrilling melody and expression, such 
 fascinating pathos, that poor Thomas soon 
 found himself unable to restrain his feelings; 
 and suddenly he presented himself before the 
 bewitching warbler, with large tears stream- 
 ing down his furrowed sun-burnt cheeks. 
 
 " O miss ! miss !'* cried he, in an al- 
 most unintelligible jargon of bad Spanish, 
 broken French, and complete sentences from 
 his English sea vocabulary, " be not angry 
 Tvith a body, since you your ownself baled 
 up these briny drops from the bottom of my 
 heart. I never anchored within ear-shot of 
 such sweet music since that dear youth, who 
 steered my shattered hulk out of the whirl- 
 pool of Garcias's vengeance, was himself 
 wrecked on the same accursed shoal, and 
 hoisted up to heaven. That, that there 
 lute v/as his, dear heart ! and your notes 
 have blown him so fresh into my mind, and 
 have sent such a broadside of grief into 
 my heart, (where his memory is fast moored,) 
 that you have made a very land-lubber of 
 me, and have heaved the tide of sorrow 
 from my eyes. Oh ! that he were living, to 
 N 4
 
 070 
 
 be your champion ! By St. George and old 
 England, he would defend you ! — But, alas! 
 alas ! he is cold in an untimely grave ! and 
 the villains are yet afloat who robbed the 
 world of the finest pearl of the ocean, 
 and: " 
 
 Hippolytonow appearing, mildly stopped 
 the volubility of Thomas's, genuine grief, 
 and gently drew him into the library -y when 
 the poor fellow fell upon the neck of Hip- 
 polyto, and wept aloud. Sebastian was 
 sensibly affected ; and Victoria shed almost 
 as many tears as the artless tar. 
 
 At length, Hero and Alonzo demanded 
 admittance at the glass-door from the piaz- 
 za ; and as Sebastian saw they were alone, 
 he let them in. 
 
 " Upon my word, signior," said Alonzo 
 with, a sneer, as he entered, " you were 
 willing, I see, to secure your tete-k-tcte from 
 the possibility of interruption. Pray, may 
 I ask what you feared ?** 
 
 *' We have no fears," replied Sebastian 
 with stern emphasis. ** We are aware of 
 the treachery of a rascal, and are prepared 
 to oppose his villany."
 
 273 
 
 Alonzo, although evidently disconcerted, 
 attempted no reply — but, throwing himself 
 in affected negb'gence into a chair, yawned, 
 stretched his limbs, complained of fatigue 
 and drowsiness, and murmured at being 
 compelled to rise at the dawn of the suc- 
 ceeding morning to execute some business 
 for Don Manuel. 
 
 Shortly after, supper was served ; and 
 Alonzo devoured his with voracious avidity, 
 drank in proportion, nor once suffered those 
 commjon forms of politeness, which he had 
 ever been anxious to evince himself com- 
 pletely master of, once to call his attention 
 from his greedy employment, until he finish- 
 ed his substantial repast ; which, he said, 
 must sustain him for many hours, as he was 
 going where food could not be obtained— 
 hinted, that the business he had to perform 
 for Don Manuel was intricate and dangerous 
 in the extreme: and when the attendants 
 were departing after supper, he ordered 
 Juan to call him at the first dawn of morning. 
 
 At the usual hour Teresa and Diego ap- 
 peared to conduct Victoria to her chamber. 
 Instantly Alonzo, who had been for some 
 N 5
 
 time apparentlj struggling to suppress an 
 overpowering drowsiness, snatched up a 
 light, respectfully bade Victoria and Sebas- 
 tion good night, took Hero's hand, which 
 he pressed to his lips, elaborately expatiated 
 upon the agony of parting, deplored most 
 piteously the torments he should endure un- 
 til they met again, and then departed. 
 
 " Diego," said Sebastian, " do you really 
 think I may now venture to leave my pre^ 
 cious charge ?" 
 
 " Safely you may, signior ; since we have 
 every reason to believe," replied Diego, 
 *' that the project, whatever it is, is post- 
 poned till to-morrow evening. But in the 
 morning, and you may tell him so, most 
 worthy Hero, I shall convey to Don Manuel 
 the unexpected intelligence of the baseness 
 of this his favourite minion -, and if he is 
 not effectually disgraced, and his powers, 
 for mischief demolished, by Heaven, I think 
 I will prove false too, and barter my fidelity 
 for internal peace 1" 
 
 Sebastian now bidding an alTectionate 
 adieu to Victoria, and bestowing his fare- 
 well benediction upon her, they separated.
 
 275 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 Victoria, attended by Hero, Teresa, 
 and Diego, unmolested, reached her cham- 
 ber-door ; but when Diego attempted to 
 unlock it, he found the key resisted, all his 
 efforts to turn it. It was new but too evi- 
 dent that some violence had been used to 
 injure the lock, and Diego in alarm in- 
 stantly resolved to take it off and place an- 
 other upon the door. The implements ne- 
 cessary to effect all this were in his own, 
 the very next, chamber; and having no 
 idea of any immediate danger to appre- 
 hend, he unhesitatingly entered his room, to 
 get what he wanted, leaving the door wide 
 open to show light to Victoria and her com- 
 panions whilst they waited for him. 
 
 But the instant Diego entered his cham- 
 ber, the door of it closed with violence, as 
 if directed by some invisible power; and as 
 the lock could only be opened by the key, 
 which unfortunately was upon the outside^
 
 276 
 vain Vv^as every effort the alarmed and asto- 
 nished Diego made to get it open. 
 
 In the moment Diego's door closed, an- 
 other opposite to it opened ; and a man of 
 gigantic stature, and ghastly aspect, made 
 his appearance, enveloped in blue flames, 
 that reflected more hideously his grim and 
 horrid visage. The moment Teresa beheld 
 the figure she shrieked and fell senseless on 
 the floor, while Victoria, whose heart shud- 
 dered with apprehension of mortal foes, be- 
 held this appearance as nothing superna- 
 tural ; and although she trembled, her mind 
 was firm, her senses all collected, and ready 
 to perform their function. 
 
 The spectre fixing his eyes, which seemed 
 rolling in fire, upon Victoria, motioned for 
 her to follov/ him in silence. 
 
 ** No," she exclaimed, '* 1 will not fol- 
 low you. '1 his device is too puerile to de- 
 ceive me." Then swift as lightning she 
 darted to Diego's door; and was hastening 
 to liberate him when she was seized by a 
 man who came from she knew not where. 
 Vehemently and piteously she now called 
 upon Sebastian, Diego, and Hippolyto. Se-
 
 277 
 
 veral men with lights suddenly appeared^ 
 and the wretch who held her was bearing 
 her towards the stairs, in defiance of her 
 shrieks and struggles, when his progress 
 was unexpectedly arrested by strength he 
 found invincible. 
 
 Instantly Victoria found herself released 
 from the ruffian's grasp, and her waist ea- 
 ciccled by Hippolyto's left arm ; whilst with 
 his right he disarmed three or four of the 
 villains who attacked him, and parried off 
 several deadly blows which were aimed to 
 deprive Victoria of her gallant champion. 
 Thomas now fought his way to Hippolyto's 
 assistance. No one attacked either with 
 impunity : but Hippolyto*s fears, lest his 
 lovely charge should sustain any injury from 
 the cutlasses that were clashing around her 
 head, made him act chiefly upon the de- 
 fensive. At length his sword was shivered 
 to pieces by a blow from the butt end of a 
 carabine. This the spectre, who had hi- 
 therto remained inactive, instantly obser- 
 ving, drew a massy sword, and darted to- 
 wards the now unarmed Hippolyto with an
 
 fntentlon to cut him down ; when Victoria, 
 recollecting in this moment of despair the 
 pistol which Diego had given her, drew it 
 with precipitance from her girdle, and put 
 It into the hand of Hippolyto. He instantly 
 lodged the contents of it in the side of the 
 assassin, who, with a dreadful yell, fell to 
 the ground weltering in blood. 
 
 By this time the desperate and enraged 
 Diego had broke open his own door ; and, 
 ever armed with sword and pistols, he en- 
 tered, ready prepared for battle, the field of 
 action at this critical juncture ; vivid fury- 
 flashing from his eyes, and stern vengeance 
 pourtrayed in every line of his agitated coun- 
 tenance, determined upon the destruction 
 of all who should oppose him in his rescue 
 of Victoria: and now, in a few moments 
 more, not a foe remained unsubdued who 
 had dared to remain and meet the fury of 
 our heroine's defenders. 
 
 Sebastian, alarmed by the tumult of the 
 retreating ruffians, seiziftg'a sword, flew to 
 the scene of action,* and arrived just in the 
 moment of victory.
 
 279 
 
 ^^ Where, where is the lady Victoria?"' 
 exclaimed this dreadfully agitated^ but firmly 
 intrepid man. 
 
 ^'' She is here, signior,'* replied Diego, 
 " safe and unhurt, thanks to the gallant 
 Hippolyto." 
 
 '' Gallant!'* cried Thomas exultingly 
 " d — n my eyes but he fought like a British 
 admiral j sunk, burnt, and destroyed the 
 besieger's squadron; forced the enemy to 
 sheer off. Bravely he defended the precious 
 fort, where gratitude is now at high water, 
 come in an overflow from the heart of the 
 citadel." 
 
 Victoria had attempted to speak her 
 thanks to her brave deliverers ; but her gra- 
 titude was too powerful for utterance, and 
 tears were her eloquent language of acknow- 
 ledgment. Hippolyto still supported her, 
 for she was unable to sustain herself. Her 
 courage was of delicate texture, not formed 
 for much service. It had worn itself out in 
 the animated exeftions it had made; but, 
 unequal to further contest, it now left her 
 languid and exhausted. Sebastian anxiously 
 approached her, and with parental tender-
 
 280 
 
 ness pressed her hand to his heart in token 
 of sympathy and congratulation. This was 
 another attack upon Victoria's susceptibi- 
 lity, and her trickling tears flowed still 
 faster. 
 
 " Avast ! avast now, miss !" cried Tho^ 
 mas, quite affected by her tears; **what 
 argufies piping all hands to those pretty 
 peepers ? and all what for ? Why, there has 
 not one head, or even arm or leg, been lost 
 in your defence now, d — n my eyes !" 
 
 " Good Heavens !'' exclaimed Sebastian, 
 " you are wounded, my brave fellow I your 
 hand bleeds!" 
 
 *' Wounded !'* repeated Thomas contemp- 
 tuously, *' that's a good one. Why, tis only 
 a bit of a rent in my flesh from a cutlass, 
 which the doctor will darn in a minute for 
 me, bless you I'* 
 
 Victoria's humanity now roused her spir 
 rits once more into action : she broke from 
 Hippolyto and Sebastian, and bound her 
 handkerchief round Thomas's hand. 
 
 " Something should instantly be done for 
 these our fallen foes," said Hippolyto com* 
 passionately.
 
 281 
 
 " Certainly,'* replied Diego. *' Juan, 
 summon Pedro immediately. But who or 
 what ghastly figure is this, extended appa- 
 rently lifeless here ? 
 
 " That,'* cried Thomas, " is the ene- 
 my's high admiral, Don Alonzo Spectreato 
 Ninnyhammero Cowardillo." 
 
 " Alonzo !" exclaimed Hippolyto, " I 
 hope I have not sent him, loaded as he is 
 with crimes, into the presence of his Crea- 
 tor." Then hastily he disencumbered the 
 phantom from his hideous disguise, and 
 found beneath it Alonzo alive ; though his 
 wound bled much, and fear of dying w^as 
 almost depriving him of existence. 
 
 Thomas now looking around among the 
 fallen enemy, suddenly ejaculated in a tone 
 of sorrow and dismay, " Split the mizen if 
 the Teresa has not foundered in a gale, and 
 the only soul on board perished 1" 
 
 Hippolyto, who was striving to staunch 
 the blood which flowed from Alonzo's side, 
 now with Victoria flew to assist Teresa, 
 who still was in a swoon. Hippolyto raised 
 the poor old woman in his arms, and bore 
 her to Diego's bed, Victoria had some salts
 
 28'2 
 In her pocket, and found a jug of water m 
 the room ; both of which proved efficacious 
 to Teresa, who revived just as Pedro made 
 his appearance. 
 
 Alonzo was moved to a bed in that room 
 from whence, in his ghostship, he had made 
 his grand entry, and where Hero had taken 
 refuge in the commencement of the tumult* 
 Upon Pedro's examination of Alonzo's 
 wound, he pronounced it not mortal ; — in« 
 telligence that Alonzo no sooner heard, than 
 his coward soul, relieved from the terrors of 
 death, ceased to tremble, and re-assumed 
 its insolence and self-importance of autho- 
 rity. Loudly and vindictively he now com- 
 plained of the outrage offered to him while 
 executing the commands of Don Manuel. 
 
 " You are a liar, as well as a coward 
 and a scoundrel," exclaimed Diego with 
 vehemence r " you were executing the com- 
 mands of your own vile deceitful heartJ 
 Don Manuel had nothing to do with it." 
 
 Sebastian and Pedro, with much diffi* 
 culty, persuaded Diego to silence, fearing, 
 he should, by irritating Alonzo, bring on 
 a degree of fever that might prove inimical
 
 283 
 
 to his wouadi when Diego, finding that he 
 v/ould not be allowed to give his indigna- 
 tion free scope, retired, muttering, to break 
 open Victoria's chamber-door, and to secure 
 for her a safe asylum for the night, 
 
 Alonzo now vehemently called for his 
 creature Carlos, the man who had at- 
 tempted to carry Victoria off, and v/ho had 
 escaped unhurt. Carlos no sooner appeared 
 than Alonzo ordered him to summon Gon- 
 zalvo the keeper of the dungeons, with fet- 
 ters, immediately to him. 
 
 *' For what purpose may I ask, signior ?'* 
 said Sebastian. 
 
 '^ To imprison those miscreants. Hippo- 
 lyto and Thomas, for mutiny. They at- 
 tempted the life of their officer." 
 
 **' True," replied Sebastian ; " but that 
 officer w^as a traitor to the state he served.'*' 
 
 *' That is a base and cruel insinuation, 
 signior ; I can prove I was doing my duty.. 
 I have power to imprison those caitiffs, and 
 by Heaven Fll do it 1" 
 
 " You certainly have the power to im- 
 prison, but not to injure them, you will 
 ^nd^ signior.'"
 
 284 
 
 *' I have that power,'* exclaimed Alonzo> 
 in a rage ; " and d — n me but I'll pursue 
 them with my vengeance to the gates of 
 hell 1" 
 
 " A dangerous pursuit for so attractive a 
 signior,'* replied Sebastian, coolly walking 
 off with Pedro, who now went to the relief 
 of the other wounded men. 
 
 At length Gonzalvo arrived, and received. 
 his orders from Alonzo. Immediately he 
 hastened to execute them : and Victoria, who 
 was still in Diego's chamber bestowing her 
 humane attentions upon Teresa,, no sooner 
 beheld this horror-inspiring ruffian, with 
 three attendants, grim and ferine-looking 
 as himself, all bearing fetters in their hands, 
 clinking direfully as they stalked along, 
 than her soul was harrowed by half antici- 
 pated apprehensions of the horrid fact. 
 Wildly she started from Teresa's side, and 
 meeting Gonzalvo before Hippolyto or Tho^ 
 mas observed his entrance, half shrieking, 
 half inarticulately, demanded his business 
 there;, which, without the incumbrance of 
 ceremony, he plainly communicated. 
 
 Victoria sunk instantly upon her knees.
 
 285 
 and with uplifted hands, and streaming 
 eyes, began to implore mercy for her gal- 
 lant deliverers, when Hippolyto suddenly 
 raised her from the ground. 
 
 " Oh, spare me, spare me,** he exclaimed, 
 '^ the maddening torture of seeing you 
 thus humbling yourself to wretches such as 
 these !" 
 
 Gonzalvo and his men with difficulty tore 
 Hippolyto from supporting Victoria, w^ho 
 instantly sunk on the floor. Vain was now 
 every effort to restrain Hippolyto: he flung 
 the blood-hounds with violence from him ; 
 again raised Victoria from the ground, and 
 supported her until Sebastian entered, to 
 whose care he instantly resigned her ^ and 
 then with mildness and striking dignity 
 gave himself into the hands of GonzaFvo, 
 who immediately fettered him with the 
 heaviest set of irons he had there, while 
 Victoria, in all the anguish of grief and ter- 
 ror, still implored the unfeeling wretches to 
 •have mercy upon her brave deliverers. 
 
 Hippolyto spoke not; but his intelligent 
 countenance expressed grief, awakened by 
 her distress, too great for utterance.
 
 2S6 
 
 '^ Be not thus alarmed, my sweet susc^p* 
 tible child," said Sebastian : *' no danger 
 awaits your deliverers: Alonzo's authority 
 extends not to life/* 
 
 ^' But his treachery may, signior," she 
 sobbed out ; " and, oh 1 if you knew what 
 agony I feel from apprehension for their 
 safety, you would supplicate too in their 
 behalf/' 
 
 ** Let me intreat you to be comforted-, 
 lady Victoria," Hippolyto at length articu- 
 lated : ^^ believe me, no danger awaits us« 
 We must, tis true, submit for a time to 
 -wear these fetters ; but the only pangs we 
 .shall endure in our confinement will arise 
 from our being -deprived of the power of 
 protecting you from the machinations of 
 villany." 
 
 '*omebe of good cheer, miss," cried 
 Thomas, winking to conceal a tear her dis- 
 tress had drawn into his eyes : ^^ after our 
 trip to the port of limbo we shall soon steer 
 back to cruise in the channel to protect you. 
 Good-bye, miss ! for, d'ye see, we have 
 received sailing orders, and must be getting 
 under weigh."
 
 287 
 
 tjonzalvo moved on with his prisoners. 
 
 *^ Stop/' said Sebastian with a deter- 
 mined voice and commanding air ; ** learn, 
 Gonzalvo, that Hippolyto is still protected 
 by Francisco." Gonzalvo seemed petrified, 
 and Sebastian continued: — '' You must, 
 I know, obey Alonzo's orders by taking him 
 to prison ; but take care of the treatment he 
 receives there. Beware of Alonzo's trea- 
 chery. Tremble at Francisco's vengeance." 
 
 Hippolyto's bonds were instantly knocked 
 off, and Thomas's exchanged for a lighter 
 set. Victoria felt as if her heart had been 
 released too from fetters, and the glow of 
 hope began to warm her bosom. Diego 
 just then entered, to inform her that her 
 -chamber was ready for her reception ; when 
 he kindly offered to allow Teresa to remain 
 with her during the night, should she con- 
 sider her presence any comfort. 
 
 As it can readily be imagined, Victoria 
 thankfully accepted Diego's humane pro- 
 posal, and with him and Teresa went to 
 her room, at the moment Gonzalvo depart- 
 ed with his prisoners, attended by Sebas-
 
 288 
 
 tian, who promised to see Victoria again 
 before he retired for the night. 
 
 Sebastian's accompanying Hippolyto and 
 Thomas to their prison was a great source 
 of comfort to Victoria, as she doubted not 
 his having every thing arranged with all 
 •possible convenience for them ; and her ap- 
 prehensions for their safety had considerably 
 subsided since she beheld the wonderful 
 effect the knowledge of Francisco's still 
 protecting Hippolyto had upon the keeper 
 of the dungeons.
 
 589 
 
 CHAP. XVIL 
 
 xVs soon as they entered Victoria's cham-» 
 ber, Diego fast locked the door, and drew 
 a couple of iron bolts across it ; then, after 
 placing our heroine in an elbow chair, and 
 Teresa in another, he retired to a respectful 
 distance, 
 
 " I must take tho liberty. Donna Victo- 
 ria," said he, "of remaining here until 
 signior Sebastian's return, when I shall go 
 for some wine to recruit your and poor 
 Teresa*^ spirits." 
 
 ** You are very considerate and very 
 kind, Diego," replied our heroine. " Indeed 
 I feel almost subdued by gratitude for all 
 the great and uncommon acts of humanity 
 I have just experienced. But how happens 
 it, my good Diego, that I have the happi- 
 ness to find you have escaped the vengeance 
 of Alonzo, which surely your gallant de- 
 fence of me exposed you to, at least equally 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 2:90 
 with my other brave though unfortunate 
 deliverers?" 
 
 " Possibly it might, donna; but Alonzo 
 will not openly avow it, since it is the rule 
 with cowards only to attack the weak. I 
 possess too much influence in this castle for 
 dastard dogs like him to fly at me." 
 
 *' I understood, I believed,'* said Victo- 
 ria in a tone of anxious alarm, " that Hip- 
 polyto was protected by some man in power 
 here — -by Francisco ?*' 
 
 *' And so he is, donna j but Alonzo knows- 
 it not: he conceives Hippolyto to be a fallen 
 favourite, from the circumstance of Fran- 
 cisco's allowing him to become Don Ma- 
 nuel's domestic; nor shall he be undeceived 
 until he has brought Francisco's wrath upon 
 him, which will insure to us ample venge- 
 
 ance." 
 
 ^' But will not that endanger the life of 
 Hippolyto in the intermediate time?*' said 
 Victoria apprehensively. 
 
 ** Oh, no, donna; since 'Conzalvo shall 
 know Hippolyto is still as highly estimated^ 
 by Francisco as when, deeply interested for 
 liis fate, he begged him from Don Manuel,:
 
 1^91 
 
 and had him reared and educated with the 
 noble ever to be lamented Theodore." 
 
 " Still highly estimated by Francisco ! 
 Oh! Diego, can you believe that? Can he 
 estimate the noble-minded, highly-educated 
 Hippolyto, and place him here as a domestic,, 
 amenable to that miscreant Alonzo ?" 
 
 '' I certainly cannot account for that, 
 dtDnna; but, being unaccountable, it is more- 
 like the proceedings of Francisco, whose 
 whole life is mystery. His conduct to the, 
 dear youth I just have mentioned, to the 
 inestimable Theodore, can never be ac- 
 counted for — can never, never be forgivea 
 by me. After rearing him with so much? 
 care ; after seeming to adore him with pa- 
 ternal fondness, even in its tenderest shape; 
 to let him fall, all perfect and lovely as he- 
 was, a victim to the vengeance of a vindic-, 
 tive villain.'* Teresa sobbed convulsively. 
 ** Pardon me, Teresia," continued he, "for 
 thus distressing you. I fell upon the sub- 
 ject unconsciously: tisone I carefully avoid; 
 for even to think one moment of it makes^ 
 me wretched for days, and I am ready-to 
 02
 
 292 
 curse the hour in which I fell hito Don Ma- 
 nuel's hands." 
 
 A melancholy pause ensued, which at 
 length was broken by Victoria, who sympa- 
 thising in and pitying the evident affliction 
 of Diego and Teresa, wished to give their 
 thoughts a different turn. 
 
 *' You fell into Don Manuel's hands, you 
 say, Diego ? Indeed I could scarcely think 
 that you had entered his service volunta- 
 rily." 
 
 "Voluntarily! No, Keaven forbid ! Per- 
 haps, donna, if you knew my little story 
 you would not consider me quite so aban- 
 doned.** 
 
 *' Abandoned ! Believe me, Diego, I have 
 no such idea. Your conduct to me has 
 surely evinced that yours is far, very far^ 
 from an unamiable heart." 
 ' *' Nature did not make it a bad one, I 
 may venture to affirm: but if you will con- 
 descend to listen to my short history, donna, 
 you shall judge haw far example has cor- 
 rupted it." 
 
 *' My father and mother, donna, by birth
 
 2$S 
 
 Italians, were favourite and confidential do- 
 mestics in the family of a very distinguished 
 Tuscan nobleman, who had nnarried the 
 heiress of one of the highest of the Spanish 
 hidalgos. This lady had the goodness to be 
 my godmother, and had me named Diego, 
 after some one of her own family. I was 
 nursed near the castle of my lord, and^ as I 
 advanced in childhood, was often taken by 
 my parents to the castle to divert the young 
 heir; who, ahhough several years older than 
 me, at length became so fond of me that he 
 had me to reside entirely with him at the 
 castle, where I well remember I was inno- 
 cent and happy. Every one was kind to 
 me, because 1 was my young lord's favourite. 
 I was grateful to all: but my young lord I 
 loved with the tenderest affection — ^^an affec- 
 tion that years since past in a busy, turbu- 
 lent, and, 1 am grieved to add, vicious life, 
 have not been able to eradicate. My ami- 
 able young patron was adorned with the 
 •most striking graces both of mind and form; 
 and being of a remarkably studious turn, he 
 Jiad the goodness to undertake the task of 
 my education, condescendingly styling him- 
 O 3
 
 294 
 
 self my tutor, and me his pupil, who was 
 the most devoted of his servants; and aO 
 that my dear respected tutor taught me I 
 learned with more facility, and was more 
 indelibly impressed upon my memory, tha« 
 what any other instructor ever taught me. 
 Oh! well, well do I remem.ber every cir- 
 cumstance of those short-lived days of my 
 happiness. Alas! for me they were not 
 doomed to continue. 
 
 *' When I attained my twelfth year, ca- 
 lamitously for me, an account arrived of my 
 lady*s father being at the point of death; 
 and the afflicted family almost instantly set 
 out for this country, attended among other 
 domestics by my parents^ but I, alas! was 
 left behind in the particular care of the 
 housekcjeper, who had hitherto evinced the 
 strongest partiality towards me. Well, v^^U 
 do I remember my parting interview with 
 my young lord, my beloved master ! Oh ! 
 what sweet advice he threw away upon me! 
 how affectionately did he regret his not 
 having it in his power to take me with him! 
 He gave me a heavy purse to buy books and 
 playthings to make me comfortable during
 
 29:5 
 
 Ills absence ^ embraced me tenderly, and 
 followed his parents into the carriage that 
 bore him from my sight for ever. I thought 
 my heart would burst at that moment. 
 It was my final separation from innocence 
 and peace. I fell to the ground ; and, oh ! 
 •what scalding tears of bitter anguish did I 
 shed 1" Diego, now overcome by. the recol- 
 lection of past scenes, w^as for some minutes 
 unable to proceed. Victoria, much Inter*- 
 ested and affected, consoled him with some 
 kindly sympathising expressions, and he at 
 length continued : 
 
 "You will, r am sure, madam, have the 
 goodness to excuse these effusions of my 
 feelings at the remembrance of scenes I 
 have for some years past endeavoured to 
 chase from my mind, but which, in spite of 
 every effort, have for these many days conti- 
 nually recurred. For some hours, donna, I 
 lay upon the ground weeping piteously. At 
 length I was summoned to dinner by the 
 housekeeper, who now was an altered being 
 in her conduct towards me. My heart was 
 too full of grief to allow me to partake of 
 food : this late indulgent woman was now 
 04
 
 296 
 enraged at my stubbornness^ as she termed 
 It; said my tears proceeded from anger at 
 my lord's not taking me to Spain; and that 
 my want of appetite arose from pride, which 
 led me to scorn food at any table but my 
 lord's. Several days passed on, my grief 
 continuing, and her ill-humour and unkind- 
 ness hourly increasing. 
 
 '' I was naturally proud, donna j I could 
 tiot bear to be thought meanly of : I consi-^ 
 dered my grief as laudable, and I could not 
 Drook its being misinterpreted. I clearly 
 ;aw the housekeeper had conceived a very 
 :ontemptible opinion of me, and I hated her 
 n return : and having a very high and en- 
 erprising spirit, I resolved one night, when 
 orrow kept me waking, to leave her. Ac- 
 ordingly next morning, at an early hour, I 
 tole out of the castle, and made the best of 
 ny way to the son of one of the park-keep- 
 ;rs, a lad of about fifteen, to whom I im^ 
 )arted my sorrows, showed him my purse, 
 vhich I promised to give him if he vi^ould 
 ontrive to have me conveyed to my young 
 ord in Old Castile. He readily undertook 
 he matter^ and desired me to call upon
 
 29-7 
 
 him again in the evening ; which I did -, when 
 to my infinite joy he informed me, -that he 
 and his father had settled every thing for 
 me with a carrier, who w^as to set out that 
 very night for Pisa, who would take charge 
 of me to that place, where he would put 
 me on board some vessel bound to Tarra- 
 gona, from whence I could be easily con- 
 veyed to my young lord. 
 
 *^ To be brief, donna, I escaped from the 
 castle, and, poor dupe ! gave my purse to 
 my perfidious confidant. I accompanied 
 the carrier to Pisa,.whox according to pro- 
 mise, immediately put me on board a ship 
 which he informed me was bound for Tar- 
 ragona. Unbounded was my joy in the idea 
 of soon being in the presence of my beloved 
 young lord; nor did the fear of my old lord's 
 or my parents' displeasure, at my unbidden 
 appearance, ever once obtrude upon my 
 childish imagination. But, alas! my dream 
 of expected happiness soon vanished : 1 was 
 awakened to present misery ; for I was not 
 long on board until I experienced treatment 
 I had ever been unaccustomed to. The house- 
 keeper's conduct was the extreme of kind- 
 O 6
 
 298 
 
 ness and indulgence when compared to it 
 I was ordered to hard labour, which, from 
 being unused to, I was unable to execute : 
 harsh treatment ensued, and ray proud spirit 
 .became refractory : the consequence v/as 
 -iny being cruelly chastised, put in heavy 
 irons, and imprisoned in the hold, with 
 .mouldy biscuits and sea-water for my only 
 food, and daily correction for my pastime. 
 
 *' How long I continued in this miserable 
 situation I can by no means decide; it must 
 have been many weeks, but they seemed 
 ages to me. At length one day I heard a 
 most uncommon bustle on board, with a 
 loud and continued firing. In the general 
 confusioB my prison was opened, and, eager 
 •to learn what was the matter, I scrambled 
 upon deck even with my irons on, where 
 for the first time I beheld a sea engagement. 
 For some moments I felt alarm, and the noise 
 of the guns terrified me extremely ; but by 
 degrees I became not only reconciled to but 
 fond of the business. By entreaties I had 
 my fetters knocked off, and soon I was to be 
 found in the thickest part of the action. 
 " But^ desperately as our people- fought,
 
 299 
 We soon were overpowered, and became 
 slaves to a corsair of Algiers. I will not 
 trespass upon your time, nor wound your 
 feeling heart, donna, by relating all the mi- 
 sery which I endured through a three years 
 bondage to Achmet, my new master. I was 
 not, like many of my fellow sufferers, taken 
 to Algiers, and sold to the highest bidder, 
 Achmet chose to retain me in his own ser- 
 vice, whilst from his brutality I experi-? 
 enced every species of cruelty. 
 
 ** In this school I learned nothing but a 
 familiarity with scenes of carnage and bar- 
 barity, and saw no traces whatever of reli- 
 gion, but in the derision the few Christians 
 among us bestowed upon the pagan rites; 
 whilst I was taught indifference, almost 
 amounting to apathy, relative to all my own 
 actions, by receiving the bastinado, or some 
 refinement upon cruelty more dreadful, 
 whenever the caprice of my tyrant sentenced 
 jiie to punishment, even when Ihad. com-> 
 initted no offence. ; 
 
 " At length, donna, we fell in with and 
 >vere taken by a Spanish pirate of superior; 
 force. The whole crew of the corsair were^j
 
 soa 
 
 without any distinction of persons, stowed 
 together in the hold. The barbarian Achmet 
 had hitherto been the object of my firm ha« 
 tred; but now he was a fallen foe, and past 
 injuries and enmity fled from my remem- 
 brance. The purveyor who daily distri- 
 buted our food gave to the Christian cap- 
 tives a full allowance, but to the infidels 
 only half. Achmet, who had a most vora- 
 cious appetite, sufl?'ered terribly from this 
 circumstance; and all whom he had ill 
 treated, except myself and Thomas, the 
 English mariner, whom you saw this even- 
 ing, and who was then my fellow captive^j 
 added insult to his sufi^erings. I divided my 
 portion of food equally with Achmet -, and 
 Thomas, from my example, gave him one 
 third of his. 
 
 ^' I mention not this incident to assume 
 praise to myself, but to gain it for Don Ma- 
 nuel, into whose power we had fallen. This 
 circumstance found its way to Don Ma- 
 nuel's ear; and, strange as it may appear 
 to you, donna, that any trait of virtue should 
 touch his heart, this little matter interested 
 and affected him. Thomas's fetters and
 
 SOI 
 
 mine were, at his command, instant!/ 
 knocked off: we were brought into his pre- 
 sence; he warmly applauded our conduct, 
 classed us among his own immediate people, 
 and has treated us with distinguished confi- 
 dence and regard. 
 
 " From that period, donna, I have conti- 
 nued in the service, and, as I have just in- 
 formed you, in the confidence, of Don Ma- 
 nuel. You will not, therefore, condemn 
 me for omitting many subsequent events in 
 my life, which would be a breach of faith 
 in me to disclose. To Don Manuel I owe 
 the most lively gratitude: he rescued me 
 from a most dreadful captivity; my young 
 heart he won by kindness, and in my ma- 
 turer years he has treated me with parti- 
 cular regard. Yet I still sighed after my 
 parents, and my young lord; to gain any 
 intelligence of them in my captivity, or for 
 the first years of my residence here, was an 
 Impossibility; and latterly, had I not been 
 bound by solemn oaths to secresy, I should 
 not have dared to present a worthless wretch 
 like me before them : better they should 
 think me dead, than know me what I am !■'
 
 50^ 
 "You wHl have the candour to remem- 
 ber,, donna, how very a youth I was when 
 I entered this castle, with a mind long ha- 
 bituated to behold scenes of wickedness 
 and cruelty. The young sapling maybe 
 trained to any form — and from the moment 
 I left Tuscany, to the present hour, I asso- 
 ciated with none but those who by exam- 
 ple and precept gave me lessons of vice; 
 which, in the ardour of misjudging youth 
 to prove my gratitude to my master, I too 
 soon learned. I now had none to guide 
 me but those who led me on to vices my 
 own heart never approved. I daily, I may 
 say hourly, beheld nothing but monstrous 
 enormities ; and from long acquaintance 
 with them, I at length ceased to start from 
 them as crimes repugnant to my nature^ 
 Yet I must say, as something in mitigation 
 of my offences, that I have never commits 
 ted cool and deliberate murder. With- sor- 
 row and contrition I own I have deprived 
 some of my fellow creatures of life : but it 
 has been in attacks where I knew I should 
 meet with resistance ; and never during my: 
 ejiistence did I raise my arm against that
 
 303 
 feeing who bad not power to oppose me* 
 I have never yer, in any instance, betrayed 
 or deceived those who reposed a confidence 
 in me ; or persecuted or oppressed the in- 
 nocent and feeble: but, to my shame, I have 
 witnessed the commission of all those crimes 
 without my endeavouring to prevent them j 
 and have myself been accustomed to plunder 
 without compunction, for these some years 
 past; and have strove, with all my might, to 
 shake ofFevery recollection of the Deity whom 
 I had been taught to adore in my happy 
 childhood, and which, in despite of every ef^ 
 fort, has recurred to arrest me in my career 
 of crimes; but, then, fear of being thought 
 a coward, or unfaithful to my master, still 
 led me on to acts my heart ever revolted 
 from, 
 
 " How often has that dear lamented youth 
 I have just been speaking of made me hesi- 
 tate and tremble, by telling me of duties 
 superior to those 1 owed Don Manuel ! and 
 I have no doubt, bad his life been sparedj 
 he would have led me back to virtue, and 
 to break my solemn oath of fealty to my 
 'master.
 
 804 
 
 ^^ I believe I was not formed to be a ruf- 
 fian, since I am naturally fond of children* 
 In the days of this youth's infancy I be- 
 came attached to him, and rendered him 
 many little acts of kindness, for which he 
 ever evinced his gratitude. Often in- his 
 childhood has he climbed my knee, and 
 pulled my ear close to his mouth, that he 
 might whisper to me how dearly he should 
 love me did I not live with, look like, and 
 often act like, these horrid men about the 
 castle, who made him tremble, they were 
 so very naughty. Often have the artless re- 
 bukes of this innocent shaken my very soulj. 
 and, as he advanced in years, infinite were 
 the pains he took to lead me back to virtue. 
 Much has he talked to me of the Deity, 
 of future rewards and punishments, of hea- 
 ven and hell, until I little doubted the ex- 
 istence of such things 5 or else, why the dif- 
 ference between him and me, if both are 
 doomed to share the same fate ? — But, alas! 
 he was taken to a better world ; and, in 
 despair, I plunged more deeply into that 
 stream of perdition he had toiled so hard 
 to save me from.
 
 305 
 " Since you have been here, donna, I 
 seem as if awakened from my perniciouS' 
 infatuation; and those good ideas" the dear 
 lamented signior Theodore so anxiously 
 strove to impress my mind with, I now 
 hourly find, wanted only another bright ex- 
 ample to give them force and call them 
 into action. Your patient mildness, under 
 your misfortunes, gave birth to better sen- 
 sations in my mind than those it long had 
 harboured. Whenever 1 beheld you, I 
 thought of my dear young lord and my 
 parents ; and the days of my innocence and 
 happiness recurred, not only to torture but 
 to soften my heart. From each new inter- 
 view I have become more interested in 
 your fate. Surrounded by innumerable dan? 
 gers and horrors unparalleled, you had no 
 support but in your mental strength, since 
 we were all ruffians and strangers to you ; 
 and you had but too much reason to look . 
 upon us all with the eyes of fear and su«- 
 spicion. I saw you felt your hapless situa- 
 tion with the fine and acute sensations of- 
 delicacy and sensibility; yet you bore it 
 with tlie resignation of a Christian,^ who.
 
 SC6 
 Tboked beyond this world for aid and hap-- 
 piness. I saw- grief upon your brow 5 but 
 patience and fortitude sat with it, as if 
 placed, there and inspired by your depen- 
 dence upon the protection of the blessed 
 Virgin, and those holy saints whose care I 
 well remember my mother's teaching me 
 to invoke in my days of happiness in tbe 
 castle of Palino/' 
 
 *' The castle of PalinoIIT' exclaimed 
 Victoria, starting from her seat in evident 
 amazement. 
 
 " Yes, donna, the castle of Palino, the 
 principal residence of my respected lord 
 cqnte '* 
 
 " Ariosto !" Victoria eagerly repeated. 
 
 Diego was in his turn astonished. *' It 
 was indeed, donna, the castle of conte.Ari* 
 ,osta." 
 
 *^ Then know, Diego,*' she exclaimed, , 
 half breathless with trepidiition, " then 
 know, that Altidore, your beloved young 
 lord, was my father !*' 
 
 Diego attempted no reply. The pale 
 hue of death instantly overspread his fine 
 countenance! — ^his eyes set, with a look of
 
 'S07 
 alarming Insensibility — ^his bosom heave J 
 with convulsive agitation — large drops of 
 sweat gushed from his temples, and his jaw 
 fell most frightfully; while his whole frame 
 shook,, and his knees smote each other with 
 such violence, that Victoria expected him 
 to fall to the ground without her possess- 
 ing power to prevent him. Her alarm and 
 pity for his situation were extreme, but she 
 knew not how to relieve him. She held 
 her salts to his nose, and eagerly entreated 
 Teresa to assist her ; but the poor old wo- 
 man was so enervated by recent and pre- 
 sent terror, that she could not afford th^ 
 smallest service. Luckily, in this moment 
 of dilemma, Sebastian asked for admission ; 
 and Teresa, with some difficulty, contrived 
 to let him in. 
 
 ^' Good heavens !**" he exclaimed,, upon 
 beholding Diego, " what has occasioned . 
 this?" 
 
 " The poor soul has just found out, 
 signior," replied Teresa,/* that he knew and 
 owed great obligations to the donna's fa- 
 ther; and. joy and surprise, I fear, will kill 
 him.'' . .
 
 308 
 
 Sebastian had brought a flask of wine,/ 
 and hartshorn, with him ; he instantly laid 
 Diego upon the floor^. and with some diiri- 
 culty contrived to make him swallow a 
 small quantity of the wine ; while Victoria 
 and Teresa bathed his temples and the 
 palms of his hands with hartshorn : but^ 
 notwithstanding every efforfto restore him* 
 Diego evinced no symptoms of returning 
 respiration, until Victoria had bitterly la- 
 mented her precipitance. At length, his- 
 eye.s moved in. wild glances ; and heavy, 
 sighs, bursting as it seemed from the bot- 
 tom of his heart, gave indication of reno^ 
 vated sensibility. In a few moments mora 
 he raised himself upon his elbow, and looked 
 with a stupid stare of vacuity around him. 
 
 "Thank Heaven my imprudence has not 
 destroyed him !'* Victoria joyfully exclaim- 
 ed. *' How are you now, my good Diego V 
 
 The sound of Victoria's voice recalled at 
 once his wandering recollection, and he 
 turned his eyes with quickness on her.— 
 " Oh! yes,'' cried he, with that eager- 
 ness and inequality of voice which fully 
 groved.he was not quite recoverad^—** Oh 1
 
 509 
 
 jes! yes I yes! I see, indeed, you are my 
 dear lord's child! Oh! how often have 
 you brought hini fresh to my remembrance ! 
 ,Just, just such a look as that he gave me 
 at the fatal moment of our parting." Diego, 
 now completely subdued by the poignancy 
 of his feelings, sunk to the ground, and, 
 hiding his face in his mantle, wept abun- 
 .dantly. 
 
 Sebastian rejoiced at beholding his tears, 
 since they promised relief to his agonised 
 mind. At length Diego sobbed out — " Re- 
 collection of the past, and horror at the 
 present, quite unman me. Oh ! what a 
 place is this for conte Ariosto*s daughter ! 
 and I, wretch, miscreant that I am ! I 
 assisted in bringing you to this infernal 
 castle !" Convulsive sobs and groans now 
 almost choked him: in a few minutes more 
 he spoke again. " If I remember right, 
 the lady Victoria said, that my dear re- 
 spected lord toas her father. Alas ! that xvas 
 implies his being no more/' 
 
 " Heaven," replied Victoria, while tears 
 of filial affection <:hased each other down 
 her cheeks, " Heaven deprived me of my-
 
 310 
 cv^r to be lamented inestimable parents 
 «re my years allowed my being sensible of 
 their value." 
 
 " Do not weep, dear donna/* said Diego 
 in a tone of heartfelt sorrow. 
 
 *^ Not weep !" returned Victoria mourn- 
 fully. " If your remembrance of my fa- 
 ther has existed since jour very childhood, 
 Diego, it would indeed be strange if his 
 daughter's did not so too 3 and to remember 
 a^id not lament him would be surely im- 
 possible !'* 
 
 Some large drops which rolled unbid- 
 den down Diego's cheeks proved that he 
 thought so too, 
 
 Sebastian, now considering it advisable 
 to interrupt a conversation too affecting to 
 Victoria and Diego in the present agitated 
 state of their minds, poured out some wine, 
 which he persuaded Victoria to take : he. 
 gave some also to Teresa, and then made, 
 Diego finish the flask; after which he re- 
 commended his retiring to bed, as his spi- 
 rits evidently required repose. 
 
 '^ I shall leave this chamber, signior," 
 Diego replied, " but not to go to bed. X
 
 3.1 1 
 have now a new daty to perform." With 
 some '.difficulty he arose, supported by the 
 kind Sebastian, and approached Victoria, 
 whom with a tremulous voice he respect- 
 fully addressed. 
 
 " Lady Victoria/* said he, *'muy pass the 
 remainder of this night free from apprehen- 
 sion, as I have taken, and shall continue to 
 take, every measure to ensure her safety. ■ 
 By your bed-side, donna, I have placed aa 
 alarm-bell, which will summon me on the 
 instant to you should you have any fears. 
 The trap-door I have most effectually se- , 
 cured ; and all the fastenings of your cham- 
 ber door I have removed to the inside, bothi 
 for your comfort and. safety. I. shall now r 
 hasten to arm a guard to patrole this part 
 of the castle for the night ; and to station : 
 a sentinel at your door j which sentinel shall , 
 be myself, as long as I have power to keep, 
 the post." 
 
 " Diego, I request, I entreat you, by the 
 friendship you once bore my honoured fa- 
 ther, and by the love you cherish for his 
 memory, to retire immediately to bed !" ex-.. 
 cjaimed Victoria, much alarmed at. the
 
 -312 
 
 ghastly hue of Diego's countenance. '* Yoii 
 have already taken every measure for my 
 safety which kindness and humanity could 
 inspire. Then go to rest, my good Diego, 
 happy in the reflexion of having benevo- 
 lently exerted yourself in protecting and, 
 compassionating a hapless captive ere you 
 knew she had any claim upon your friend- 
 ship 3 while I shall pass my night undis* 
 mayed, secure in the new promise of the 
 kind protection of Heaven intimated to 
 me by this discovery : for surely the hand 
 of Almighty Providence must be traced in 
 thus revealing a powerful friend to me^ 
 ■bound to my family by the* bonds of affec- 
 tion, in the moment even of despair." 
 
 Diego promised implicit obedience to her 
 request, which he considered as an indis- 
 putable command J and with Sebastian, 
 who bestowed a tender and affecting bene- 
 diction upon Victoria^ retired 5 but both 
 remained in the lobby until our heroine 
 and Teresa had fastened the chamber door 
 with all the locks, bars, and chains which 
 Diego, in his zeal, had fixed upon it. 
 
 The moment the sound of their receding
 
 513 
 
 footsteps, died upon her ear, the recollec- 
 tion of the secret door presented itself, like 
 a hideous phantom, to Victoria's imagina- 
 tion. Vain she now feared were all Diego's 
 kind precautions, since one possible avenue 
 remained unsecured. Shuddering she sunk 
 into her seat, and wistfully fixed her eyes 
 upon the man in armour, filled with the 
 horrid expectation of seeing it recede to 
 idmit some of Alonzo's emissaries. Even 
 had Diego been present, she could not in- 
 form him of tliis alarming circumstance 
 without betraying those by whose means 
 she had discovered its existence ; and that 
 she would not do, upon the mere presump- 
 tion of danger: and that door, which io. 
 the morning she had rejoiced at having to 
 escape through, she now beheld with terror. 
 But at length her reason arose,- in fullest 
 force, to combat with her apprehensions 5 
 which, after the wonderful proofs she had 
 just received of the signal interposition of 
 Heaven in her behalf, were almost crimes 
 against that beneficent Providence; and 
 after such proofs, could she dare to doubt 
 the continuance of supreme succour? Oh, 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 514 
 
 no.; she could not ; and. she blushed for her 
 weakness, almost bordering upon impiety. 
 Slie had, too, every reason to believe that . 
 passage a secret to I)on Manuel and ^U his 
 adherents,. 
 
 With renovated fortitude and courage 
 Victoria now arose from her seat to prepare 
 for bed, and with a sweet benignant smi'e 
 advised Teresa to do so too — advice which 
 the poor exhausted old woman was not sloy/ 
 in followiPig. Our heroine then, after of- 
 fering up her pure and fervent thanksgivings 
 to Heaven; and deserving, whilst she in- 
 voked its protection for herself, her delive- 
 rers, and her friends ; undressed, and, for 
 the first time since her captivity, ventured 
 to go into bed — ^Teresa having some mi- 
 rutes before taken possession of the one 
 Hero had occupied the preceding night. 
 
 ^' I wonder, Teresa^" said Victoria, as 
 she \ci\d herself down to rest, *' -I wonder 
 what is become of Hero ! — sincerely do I 
 i.cpe no harm may befal the poor deluded 
 creature.'* 
 
 A loud serenading from Teresa's nose 
 ^vas the only answer now received, an-
 
 S15 
 
 Tiouncing most unequivocally that her cares 
 ■for th-e present were consigned to rest. 
 
 " In the days of my happiness," thought 
 Victoria, " what a misfortune should I have 
 considered such a noisy companion in my 
 chamber! and now, alas! how changed 
 the scene ! for I am truly thankful for hav- 
 ing her allowed to me," 
 
 Our heroine now left to her own reflex- 
 ions, all the extraordinary occurrences of 
 that eventful evening presented themselves 
 in glowing colours to her imagination. The 
 projected villany of Alonzo, whatever it 
 portended, made her shudder; while her for- 
 tunate escape from it, and the singular disco- 
 very of Diego's connexion with and attach- 
 ment to her family, filled her bosom with 
 the most lively gratitude to Providence ; 
 and in the moment of gratitude her signal 
 obligations to her gallant deliverers were not 
 forgotten : — and that two of those deliverers 
 were for their humanity thrown into a damp 
 and dreary dungeon gave to her feeling 
 heart infinite affliction ; and although she 
 had been positively assured of their perfect 
 safety, she could not divest her mind of 
 P2
 
 316 
 those torturing apprehensions her fears of 
 Alonzo's treachery inspired. Any evil be- 
 falling Thomas would most sincerely grieve 
 her^ but for Hippolyto^s safety she experi- 
 enced infinitely more solicitude. A retro- 
 spect of his conduct during that evening 
 placed Hippolyto in the most advantageous 
 point of vievir. The intrepidity with which 
 he had exposed himself to danger to rescue 
 her from it, the animated courage with 
 which he had defended her, his delicately 
 respectful manner towards her, his huma- 
 nity to Teresa and those he had assisted to 
 vanquish, his graceful dignity in the moment 
 of surrendering himself to Gonzalvo when 
 other protection appeared for her, all con- 
 spired to elevate him high in our heroine's 
 estimation. Never before had her admi- 
 ration been called forth so powerfully as on 
 that eventful day. The stranger she met 
 in the church had in the morning captivated 
 her fancy 5 Hippolyto in the evening had 
 charmed her reason ; and had she been as- 
 sured that the stranger possessed such men- 
 tal perfections as Hippolyto had evinced, 
 or that Hippolyto could boast even half the
 
 317 
 
 stranger's personal advafitages, Victoria's 
 heart had been irrevocably gone : as it was, 
 she almost feared for her peace to see the 
 stranger again ; whilst the friendship of 
 Hippolyto she felt anxious to deserve, and 
 looked forward to it as to a source of the 
 purest satisfaction. 
 
 At length the power of reflexion was lost 
 in drowsiness ; and after a few moments of 
 fiicnrai v-dULiiiy, v iCiuriaicii mro a siuinuer — 
 not profound, like Teresa's, and proving of 
 short duration. She started from it, with the 
 horrid phantasy which Morpheus present- 
 ed to her sleeping imagination of a ghastly 
 spectre gliding through the tapestry door 
 to convey her into Alonzo's power. Wist- 
 fully she gazed upon the door and around 
 the room,, but beheld nothing to alarm her j 
 ye^ it was some moments before she could 
 effectually reason herself out of the unconi'* 
 fortable sensations this horrid vision' of her 
 sleep occasioned ; when again recommend- 
 ing herself to the protection of Heaven, 
 she soon fell into a tranquil sleep, in which 
 she most certainly had dreams: but to the 
 eternal disgrace of our unheroinely heroine, 
 P3
 
 3ia 
 
 we must confess she slept not as she ought 
 to have done for the information of our 
 readers, since not one dream of hers- bore 
 the smallest analogy to her future fate.
 
 519 
 
 CHAP. xvriL 
 
 oooN as Victoria's toilet was completed 
 in the morning, and that she had performed 
 the most important duty of her life, she 
 waited with some impatience for Teresa^s 
 re-appearance, who at length arrived at the 
 usual hour, attended by Diego, to summon 
 our heroine to breakfast. 
 
 Victoria now felt the most sincere regard 
 for Diego, from his having been beloved 
 "by her father, and from the strong attach- 
 ment he still bore the memory of her re- 
 spected parent ; and that regard, in addf- 
 tion to her gratitude, now led her to ex- 
 tend her hand to him, as she v^as about to 
 congratulate him upon being sufficiently re- 
 covered to leave his chamber: but the mo- 
 ment his hand mcc her touch, the burning: 
 fever it indicated gave her instant alarm ; 
 and looking upon his countenance, she was 
 at once confirmed in her apprehensions of 
 serious illness. 
 
 P4
 
 " My good Diego/' said she, *' you are 
 ?iot well. Why, why did you leave your 
 chamber?'** 
 
 " To wipe away some of my offences, 
 lady YJctoria, by evincing my gratitude to 
 my dear lamented lord, in affording that 
 little protection in my power to his innocent, 
 persecuted, hapless child/' he replied in a 
 languid and trem.ulous voice, 
 
 " I am Ycry thankful for your kind in- 
 tentions, Diego; but effectually to serve me 
 you should be careful of my friends. You 
 must not, therefore, by inattention to your 
 own health, deprive me of that protection s^ 
 essential to my safety. You are ill, very 
 ill, and vou neo^lect vourself in vour solici- 
 
 tude for; me. Has signior Sebastian seen 
 you this morning ? I wish you would go 
 to bed, and allow signior Pedro to attend 
 you.'* 
 
 *^ Alas ! lady Victoria forgets, in her hu- 
 manity, her own sad Situation. I must 
 accompany you to signior Sebastian j and 
 should he think it safe for me to leave you> 
 1 wiVi then go to my chamber 5 for in truth
 
 321 
 I fear illness has, for the first time in my life, 
 overtaken me." 
 
 Victoria's countenance expressed so much 
 concern, that Diego strove with all h\6 
 pov^er to combat an indisposition that v^^as 
 visibly subduing him. With great inge- 
 nuity he now fastened the chamber-door, to 
 prevent tHe possibility of the locks being 
 again damaged ; and desiring Teresa to 
 lead the v^ay, he, v^^ith tottering steps, at- 
 tempted to follow Victoria down the stairs : 
 but his head felt so much disordered by in- 
 disposition, he was compelled to catch and 
 hold fast the balustrade to prevent his fall- 
 ing. All this was observed by Victoria, 
 whose compassionate eyes had paid strict 
 attention to him ; and she now stopped, 
 desiring him to lean upon her and Teresa. 
 
 " I cannot afford you much assistance," 
 said she, in the svveetest accents of pity; 
 *' but my little, aided by Teresa's less, may 
 equal one tolerable supporter." 
 
 *^ This, this is too much !" Diee:o ex- 
 claimed, while large drops stole down his 
 cheeks. '* Such kindness and condescen- 
 sion, so truly inherited from my dear lord 
 
 r 5
 
 S22 
 
 Altldore, quite oppress me. Conte Arl- 
 ©sto's child to humble herself thus in com.^ 
 passion to her father's vassal ! — a wretch, 
 a. miscreant, who assisted in the villany of 
 bringing her to this fatal, fatal place!" 
 
 *' Diego," said Victoria with that com- 
 manding dignity she could with so muck 
 native grace assume, "Diego, take m.y 
 arm," Trembling with confusion, but irre- 
 sistibly awed into obedience, the poor in- 
 valid complied. '^ The child of conte Ari- 
 osto," continued she, ** cannot be humbled 
 by the performance of her duty, in affording . 
 assistance to those who require it ; and him^, 
 Diego, whom my father loved, his children 
 must respect ; and it is not for me to coiir 
 temn those whom a sincere contrition for 
 their errors raises in the estimation of our 
 Redeemer Besides, to you I owe innu-- 
 merable obligations ; and gratitude know^ 
 no distinctions, because it has no pride but 
 in evincing itseif»" 
 
 Diego was too much overpowered by 
 sickness and our heroine's kindness to at^ 
 tempt any reply. Supported by her and 
 Teresa he reached the parlour^ where Se-
 
 323 
 Bastian was anxiously waiting for Victoria^ 
 who respectfully and affectionately paid 
 her morning compliments to him, as she led 
 Diego to a chair, where she desired him to 
 sit. *' Signior Sebastian will excuse your 
 doing so," said she, "since you are ill, and 
 he compassionate.'*' 
 
 *' 111, indeed 1" exclaimed Sebastian, has- 
 tily advanci!:ig to him ; w^hen he kindly took 
 his hand to examine his pulse. 
 
 '' Ah \ signior, I have had a wretched 
 night ! for who can rest upon the thorny 
 pillow of compunction? A mind so dis- 
 eased as mine will soon bring on bodily 
 malady :■ — horror, sorrow, regret, despair, 
 all combine to agitate and subdue me. iVIy 
 dear lord and benefactor's child is in the 
 castle of Don Manuel ; and you too Vvreil 
 know, signior,. the secrets of that castle to 
 wonder at my grief, my anguish, upon her 
 account, whom I, ajas 1 have little, little 
 hope of ever being able essentially to 
 serve." 
 
 '* We will talk and think of my situation^ 
 Diego, when you are more equal to the 
 task,'* said Victoria ; ** at present, for my
 
 sake, as well as for your own, you must 
 think only of conquering this indisposition. 
 Can we do nothing for the poor soul, sig- 
 nior ?" 
 
 " Certainly we can, and will/' replied 
 Sebastian, who ordered Teresa to summon 
 Pedro immediately. "Diego," continued he, 
 *' is ill, but not, I am certain, dangerously 
 so ; and he only requires a little attention 
 to restore him to health. I would advise 
 his going instantly to bed, and Pedro will 
 administer some composing medicines." 
 
 *' The world, signior, could not tempt 
 me to retire to my chamber whilst lady 
 Victoria's safety is in danger,'* said Diego 
 with alarming emphasis. 
 
 "Be composed, my good friend,'* replied 
 Sebastian: 'Mady Victoria's safety is not for 
 the present threatened ^^Hth any danger : 
 Francisco has undertaken to protect her 
 until Don Manuel's return." 
 
 An expression of the most animated joy 
 beamed over the paliid face of Diego, 
 whilst joy's large drops gushed from his 
 heavy eyes, as he raised his hands in thank- 
 fulness to heaven: and Victoria declaring
 
 S25 
 
 her astonishment at Francisco's kindness, 
 Sebastian informed her — 
 
 " That Francisco, ever tenacious of his 
 power, was highly incensed at Alonzo's 
 daring to imprison a person wdiom he pro- 
 tected, and had recommended to Don Ma- 
 nuel's service -, and was therefore deter- 
 mined to secure her from Alonzo's villany ; 
 and that until Don Manuel's return she 
 might consider herself safe, as if with her 
 own family." 
 
 *^ Then, signior, he has liberated the 
 amiable and gallant Hippolyto," said Vic- 
 toria eagerly, the purest glow of mingled 
 hope and joy mantling over her cheeks. 
 
 " No, my sweet, grateful child," replied 
 Sebastian ; '^ Francisco, although indig- 
 nant, is too punctilious to interfere with any 
 of Don Manuel's laws. He certainly has 
 power to liberate Hippolyto, but he chooses 
 to pay Don Manuel the compliment of 
 leaving it to him to do it. In the interme- 
 diate time he has ordered that Hippolyto, 
 and his brave companion Thomas, shall 
 have QWQYy comfort assigned to them which
 
 326 
 
 a prison can admit of. However, In respect 
 to Alonzo, he has not stood upon the cere- 
 mony of waiting for Don Manners return 
 to prevent his power of present mischief; 
 for he has placed a strong guard over him 
 in the western tower, whither he has been 
 this morning removed; while Carlos, with 
 the poor deluded creature your attendant, 
 and every person suspected of confederacy 
 with AJonzo, are in close confinement ; and 
 strict orders he has just issued to all who re- 
 main at liberty, to protect you, my child, 
 from every danger." 
 
 Victoria was just beginning to express 
 fier gratitudefor Francisco's kindness, when 
 Pedro entered ; who finding strong sym- 
 ptoms of a nervous fever about Diego, or- 
 dered him instantly to bed ; and as Vieto-- 
 ria had now no immediate danger to ap- 
 prehend> Sebastian kindly assisted Pedro in 
 leading the poor invalid to his chamber, whi- 
 ther he was attended by our heroine's most 
 .fervent good wishes for his speedy recovery. 
 
 In about half an hour Sebastian returned 
 with the comforting intelligence of Pedro's 
 only considering Diego's illness occasioned
 
 327 
 by strong agitation of mind, which quiet 
 and a little judicious care would soon re- 
 move. 
 
 So much fear and anxiety was now ba> 
 nished from Victoria's mind, that with 
 something approaching to appetite she sat 
 down to table with her interesting friend, 
 and partook of an excellent breakfast Te- 
 resa had prepared for them ; w^hich was na 
 sooner ended, than Sebastian informed her 
 he was under the necessity of leaving her 
 for a few hours to fuliil an appointment 
 with Francisco. *^ Without scruple or an» 
 iety I now can leave you," added he; '* and 
 if the tone of your mind will permit it, you 
 can find amusement in the library, or ia 
 sketching that beautiful portrait." 
 
 The deepest blushes now tinged Victo- 
 ria's cheeks, and her confusion was most 
 pitiably augmented by finding it observed 
 by her companion, who gazed intently at 
 her with a deeply penetrating eye,, as if 
 anxious to develop the cause of her too ap- 
 parent perturbation. 
 
 A pause for some moments ensued. Vic- 
 toria could not break the — to her, painfully
 
 S28 
 
 silent interval j but at length Sebastian did : 
 *' Well, I see," he said with a benign smile, 
 " I see my fair philosopher cannot entirely 
 conquer her apprehensions. Suppose then 
 we summon Teresa to attend, and, at least, 
 take oft the alarming appearance of soli- 
 tude !" 
 
 ^^ Oh ! no, no, signior," replied our art- 
 less heroine with more eagerness than she 
 wished to have discovered : " I like: — I pre- 
 fer solitude : I mean I am not afraid of it ; 
 and then poor Teresa has, must have, so 
 much domestic employment now^ Diego is 
 unable to assist her, it would be cruelty to 
 trespass upon her time. So, signior, if you 
 please, I will only summon her, if, upon 
 trial, I find my spirits unequal to solitude/': 
 
 " As you please be it, my child. — Now 
 have you any message to Hippolyto ? I 
 shall make him a short visit before I pro- 
 ceed to Francisco." 
 
 *' Oh, signior, could words express my 
 feelings, I would trouble you v/ith the con- 
 veyance of a message long as the soul of 
 gratitude could dictate ! — for, oh, signior, 
 but for the noble, brave Hippolyto, what
 
 S29 
 now might have been my shocking, shock* 
 ing fate ! By his humanity and courage 
 T am hci*e in safety s — for his humanity and 
 courage he is no^*^^ in prison !" Tears, which 
 the feelings of her grateful heart awakened, 
 stopped her utterance for a few moments: 
 at length she proceeded: '' Oh how I envy 
 you, signior! You can visit your i'neni 
 in prison; whilst 7, \vh" C^'^sed his beina 
 there, am forbidden by the laws of custom 
 and decorum to offer that respect and con- 
 solation." 
 
 *' And would you — would you, visit the 
 dungeon of Hippolyto," said Sebastian, "if 
 flecorum gave you permission ?" 
 
 *' Most certainly : for it would be my 
 duty, if, by doing so, it could for a moment 
 beguile the sadness of his confinement/* 
 
 *' Would not something like pride revolt 
 at such a condescension ? Lady Victoria 
 seems to forget Hippolyto is only domestic 
 to Don Manuel" 
 
 ^* I cannot cease, signior, to remember 
 the misfortunes of my friends ; nor can I 
 forget that merit like Hippolyto's must ever 
 claim respect. Those exalted by virtue the
 
 35t^ 
 frowns of fortune cannot debase. Nature' 
 made Hippolyto an ornament to her works j> 
 nor can situation degrade him who is by 
 birth and sense a gentleman.'*' 
 
 '' Yes," said Sebastian 3 "although nature- 
 drew Hippolyto in^ shade, he is one of the' 
 noblest works her hand ever pourtrayed, 
 JtJorn ta better expectations, he and another 
 youthj alike the darling ornament of nature, 
 and outcast of fortune, differing only in 
 complexion, were thrown by their ruthle&s 
 
 destiny but I must not, dare not, trust 
 
 myself upon this soul-rending subject; L 
 will therefore hasten to my poor Hippolyto'& 
 dungeon/' 
 
 " Go, signior, and testify by this con- 
 soling, attention your friendship to that ga!^ 
 lant being; whilst I can only by these mes- 
 sages, you will have the goodness to con- 
 vey for me, manifest my lively gratitude." 
 
 " Then come,, my child," replied Sebas- 
 tian with a sweet smile of benignity and 
 pleasure pervading his sad yet fine counte- 
 nance: ''accompanied by me, there can 
 surely be no impropriety ; and such a flat- 
 tering^ condescension will illumine the dun^
 
 331 
 geon of poor Hippolyto, and effectually ba- 
 nish sadness from his prison." 
 
 Victoria instantly arose, and gave her 
 hand to Sebastian, who led her through the 
 great hall into a long passage which termi- 
 nated at a large iron door, where he pulled 
 a heavy sounding bell, and immediately 
 Gonzalvo appeared. 
 
 <* We would visit Hippolyto," said Se- 
 bastian, and showed Francisco's signet. 
 
 Gonzalvo, taking a lamp from his rooni;^ 
 preceded Sebastian and our heroine through, 
 an adjoining door, which opened upon a. 
 long flight of steps which they descended>. 
 and in a few moments entered a winding, 
 passage of immense length,^ branching off 
 in a variety of directionsj where,, on each 
 side of the leading passage and all its de- 
 viations, were ranged at equal and trifling, 
 distances low doors, strongly plated with 
 iron, and secured by massy bolts and other 
 enormous fastenings — doors which Victoria 
 but too truly conjectured led to the noi- 
 some prison of many a hapless sufferer.. 
 This afBicting idea filled her heart with in- 
 expressible sadness ; but no sooner did the.
 
 direful clinking of chains, with deep-dravvfS 
 sighs and groans issuing through many of 
 those doors, assail her ears, than grief and 
 horror ahnost subdued her, and Sebastia^n 
 now found increased difficulty in support- 
 ing her trembling frame to Hippolyto's 
 prison. One bolt alone secured his door } 
 and Gonzalvo, entering first, respectfully 
 
 announced the approaching visitors. 
 
 *^ The captive lady coming to see me !'' 
 repeated Hippolyto in a tone of excessive 
 trepidation and surprise, as he darted to- 
 wards the door. " Gracious Heaven I tis 
 true! Oh, madam! lady Victoria I what, 
 what could have induced such an unex- 
 pected, such an unmerited condescension ?'' 
 
 «' Your humanity, and my gratitude,'^ 
 said she. *' Signlor Sebastian thought, when 
 accompanied by him, there could be no im- 
 propriety in visiting my deliverers in that 
 prison where serving me had placed them.'* 
 Victoria now entered, and, looking around, 
 ' " Alas !'* she exclaimed, '' and is this place 
 the reward of humanity ?" She could add 
 no more; but, bursting into tears, sunk into 
 the seat Hippolyto had just arisen from.
 
 533 
 
 Gonzalvo, now retiring, took his station 
 in the passage ; and Thomas, who shared 
 this prison, and whose wound was in a most 
 promising state, respectfully retreated to 
 one corner of the dungeon, while Sebastian 
 and Hippolyto, in the most earnest terms, 
 entreated our heroine to be composed. 
 
 " Distress me not, I conjure you, lady 
 Victoria," said Hippolyto, ^* by such excess 
 of compassion. Our confinement here will 
 prove but of short continuance, believe me; 
 and even whilst here we shall experience 
 no grief, no inconvenience, but in being 
 deprived of the liberty still to attend you, 
 to watch over, to protect you from every 
 danger." 
 
 Victoria, about to reply, raised her beau- 
 tifully intelligent eyes, beaming with sor- 
 row and genuine gratitude; when suddenly 
 meeting Hippolyto's, she clearly saw in 
 them such a lively and unequivocal expres- 
 sion of tender anxiety, that, quite startled 
 and distressed, she again bent her eyes to 
 the ground, whilst the brightest glow of 
 confusion overspread her cheeks.
 
 S34 
 
 Whether Sebastian made any observa* 
 tion or not, he instantly relieved her em- 
 barrassment, though not her concern, by 
 calling Hippolyto's attention from the too 
 lovely Victoria to a recital of Francisco's 
 resolutions and arrangements^ to which Hip- 
 polyto listened with the most evident de- 
 light, as they were auspicious to Victoria's 
 safety. 
 
 Thomas, with his accustomed unintelli- 
 gibility, expressed his pleasure too, happy 
 in the prospect of our ^heroine's security, 
 but charmed to ecstasy at the idea of Alon- 
 zo's disappointment and mortification.—- 
 ** And may I, your honours, be bold," 
 added he, " and crave what cheer w^th the 
 Teresa, and my brave messmate Diego ? 
 It heavec up a strong swell of wonderment 
 why he thus keeps abaft, and has not yet 
 steered to this port to see into the state of 
 our rigging/' 
 
 Victoria now called forth the most pro- 
 found and enraptured attention of Hippo- 
 lyto, whilst she sweetly and simply related 
 the discovery of Diego's connexion with
 
 355 
 lier .family., Its alarming effect upon him, 
 and his severe illness. 
 
 Hippolyto was evidently affected by her 
 axtless and interesting little history ; but 
 the good it portended to Victoria almost 
 "effaced by pleasure his pity for Diego. 
 
 For som;i little lime longer they he'ld a 
 serious conversation upon the state of affairs 
 in the castle ; and mutually charmed with 
 each other's discourse, Victoria and Hip-- 
 polyto saw with regret Sebastian's motion 
 for separation. Hippolyto^ in the most 
 graceful and animated terms, expressed his 
 gratitude for the honour and pleasure our 
 heroine had conferred upon him by her visit.; 
 whilst she in return felt he had arisen still 
 higher in her estimation ; and she should 
 have remembered this interview with satis- 
 faction^, had not concern officiously remind- 
 ed her of having observed that which indi- 
 cated a stronger degree of solicitude for her 
 faie than she could have wished Hippolyto 
 to feel for her. 
 
 Gonzalvo now conducted these friendly 
 visitors out of his district 3 and Sebastian 
 attended Victoria to the library, where he
 
 336 
 
 waited until she had perfectly recovered 
 that agitation of spirits this new and dismal 
 scene had awakened ; and then took leave, 
 assuring her of perfect security during his 
 absence. 
 
 Victoria, now alone, felt her spirits a- 
 wakened to a perturbation of a different 
 nature. The hour was approaching fast 
 for her to fulfil or fail in her appointment 
 with the stranger 3 and what line of con^ 
 duct to pursue was now her difficulty. She 
 had, alas ! no one to advise her. Her own 
 judgment or inclination only now could 
 guide her— the feeble judgment of eighteen, 
 the rash inclinations of youth. Disap- 
 pointed wishes and opinions had not yet 
 introduced suspicion into the ingenuous 
 mind of Victoria: artless herself, she thought 
 the world in general so ; and nothing less 
 than downright conviction had ever yet al- 
 lowed her to believe that the apparently 
 amiable could be deceitful. The man, 
 therefore, whom her fancy represented to 
 her as one of the most perfect of human 
 beings, she never once thought it possible 
 to find insincere or capable of treachery*
 
 337 
 She had consequently no fears for her 
 safety, but she had many doubts as to the 
 propriety of meeting him. He had not ven- 
 tured his life for her preservation ; and gra- 
 titude had no claim upon her, except for 
 promised kindness. Besides, she had no Se- 
 bastian to accompany her, and destroy the 
 indecorum of the interview. Delicacy, flow- 
 ing from the spring of nature, filled, in its 
 most refined purity, Victoria's spotless heart : 
 it inspired her every thought; it dictated her 
 every word, and attended all her actions. 
 The idea, therefore, of an assignation with 
 a man, young and a stranger, unprotected 
 to forlornness as she was, could not but 
 startle her; while some innovating guest 
 sprung forward to laugh at her scruples, 
 and inspiring wishes to overthrow them. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 VOL I. Q
 
 St Ufimi?/9ftf Tn'rtter^ Fa/cen-Courff F/cet'Stresf,