Alfonso. I have seen your Mariana-she is beautiful- -but Violante—!

Bernard. Did you see Violante, then?

Alfonso. Yes; were you to see Violante, Bernard—— Bernard. Is she so fair? you speak impatiently, my friend.

Alfonso. You would also:-to-morrow, Bernard, and I'll introduce you. I am promised her release.

Bernard. Indeed! and you- I mean, which did you admire the most?

Alfonso. Nay, you abuse my friendship: Bernard, Violante has charms

This was too much for the suspicious Bernard to withstand; nothing was more palpable, no testimony more decisive. Alfonso loved his Violante-he was his rival-might prove a successful one-and he hated in proportion as he once esteemed! A letter and a parcel had arrived for Alfonso in the interval of their last interview these he produced, and retired to reflect upon the suspicions involuntarily entertained.

"TO ALFONSO.

"Unwilling to attribute treachery to a mind perhaps unstained with vice; yet impressed with suspicions so evident, it would betray not only folly but excessive rashness longer to reside within the reach of threatning destruction. A carriage attends at the door to convey me across the Pyrannees: in France I shall be safe from the pursuit of my enemies; but with arms extended and a heart disposed to listen to the calls of friendship.

"The writer of this note has important news to unfold, and such as are highly interesting to your happiness, Throw aside that criminal indifference to your

prosperity, become so manifest, by your neglecting Morad's injunctions. It is a slavish prejudice that

begets fear.

"Along with this I remit you a trifling sum of money to defray the expenses of your journey. You will find me at Perpignan-hasten thither-your curiosity may be well repaid.

"Yours,

"How unfortunate!" exclaimed Alfonso. "This letter must be from the stranger alluded to by Morad, and to-morrow I must depart for Andalusia with my mother-It shall be so," he added after a short pause, "we'll change our route. The duke and Bernard shall continue ignorant of my plan. It will be easy to conceal the direction of our journey. This mysterious writer may have a knowledge of my mother: his intelligence must affect us equally-perchance my father calls !" The parcel next claimed his attention. It was a rouleau of one hundred and eighty doubloons! "Such a sum, too," said Alfonso, "proclaims the affluence of the stranger. It will be more than abundant for all our expenses. I must cast off suspicions unworthy of me."

He found Miguel anxiously waiting for his return. "You must to the duke, my son," said the monk. "The happy issue of your visit to the convent will be pleasing to his ear: he can now support the motion of a carriage, take one with you and hasten his removal to Saragossa. To-morrow morning we must pursue the advice of our sister Agnes.

CHAPTER X.

The returning health of the duke was indeed productive of real happiness to Alfonso. Strange as it seemed, on his arrival he found him in excellent spirits and free from danger; in the evening he had the pleasure of placing his friend in safety at the ducal palace in the city. On the road thither Alfonso hinted his desire to join his regiment, combatting the objections offered by Aranza with promises of a speedy return. "I am unwilling," said he, "to assume the uniform of a corps I have never joined. Some men might ridicule this whim; but it is a delicacy I cannot conquer. Suf fer me but to draw my sword at the head of my troop, and I shall return to Saragossa proud, indeed, of the honor of my command, and the patronage of my colonel. Do not, my lord, deny me this request: it is an indulgence I must ask, and I shall set out to-morrow for Andalusia, grateful for all the kindness your bounty so highly merits."

This argument had its weight, and the duke consented under an assurance that he should return without delay. "In the future," he continued, "you must reside with me. Next to my Violante you rank in affection. my Apart from the obligation which binds you to my heart I feel an attachment to my deliverer. I am growing old and infirm; your society will cheer the decline of

years. I am not insensible of an excess of caprice too inseparable from the infirmities of old age; and I have the vanity to imagine that you'll soon learn to accommo❤ date yourself to my foibles, and to acquire a taste for the life I mean to court without entertaining the faintest idea of dependance. I submit to the argument you have adduced; and though I regret our separation, the happiness of beholding my niece will beguile the hours of your absence. But, my son, you have not informed me whether you was pleased with Violante. Is she not a charming girl? but I'll not offend your diffidence. If you can love Violante and inspire a mutual sentiment you know my pleasure!"

Alfonso had frequently imparted a desire that the duke should be made acquainted with Bernard. This was a favorable moment to effect it; and in the course of the evening he introduced his friend This interview was not calculated to prove so desirable as the good intentions of Alfonso aimed to effect. From their recent conversation Bernard had no room to doubt Violante's impressions on Alfonso; nor were the friendly assurances of Agnes any consolation to his hope. From the hints thrown out by the duke, Violante was assuredly the destined bride of Alfonso. It was no alleviation of his fears that he had made even the first impression upon her heart: without family or fortune adequate to the expectations of Aranza, he beheld no chance of obtaining a sanction to their alliance. Still, however, in the conflict of anxiety, hope, faint as it was, sat invitingly in the perspective and he resolved to abide the issue. The love he bore Violante was too refined to excite in him the practice of dishonorable means. Insufferable as it was to endure suspense thus cruel, he was armed against the insinuations of a selfish

passion. He might influence her consent to an elopement, but there was a degree of meanness in the attempt repugnant to his thoughts. His idea of honor was peculiar and romantick:-the benevolence of his heart would have prompted his assistance to a friend in the attainment of a similar desire; but having no more than his own interest to consult, and not hurried away by a blind sympathy for another, that heart revolted at. the suggestion.

The subject of conversation at the supper table chiefly regarded the convent of St. Clare. The case of Mariana, of course, became a topick of interesting speculation. Alfonso affected as little attention to what was said as was consistent to avoid suspicion. Ber nard became unusually warm in animadversions upon the unprincipled conduct of the marquis, dwelt rapturously upon the beauties of his daughter's mind and person, and swore emphatically that she should not be compelled to take the veil. His peculiar warmth was not unnoticed by Alfonso. He strove in vain to sup press the pangs of jealousy, and but for the unsuspect-ing minds of his companions he must have betrayed the secret he most wished to conceal.

"You will be absent, Alfonso, when Mariana re-ceives the veil ?" said the duke.

"Yes-no," replied he without a knowledge of what he said..

Bernard remarked his confusion. He was ignorant that Alfonso's departure was the result of choice, and naturally enough attributed his embarrassment to the pain of parting from Violante.

"You'll lose the solemn hymn," continued the duke, 66 my niece is to chant on the occasion-you never heard the bewitching melody of her voice."