Montalva to plunge still deeper in guilt?

"No, Isabel; (exclaimed be, men. tally) no consideration, save my own safety, shall prevail on me to sacrifice thy life."

He now summoned his domestics, and smoothing his brow, enquired whether the minstrel had departed? They all declared they had not seen him, and Montalva affected to suppose that he had quitted the castle unobserved. Such was the horror of the count's mind, that he did not dare to remain entirely alone; he commanded Antonio to remain in an anti-chamber, and while lost in a maze of distracting thoughts, he paced his apartments. He every moment expected again to behold his late terrific visitor.

More than twelve years had now elapsed since the murder of the count, and the voice of conscience Montalva had supposed was all that he could possibly have to dread; but this mys

terious minstrel had awakened every dormant fear, and the count resolved on a journey to the convent of St. Teresa, to learn if indeed he had spoken truth.

"I will have her professed as soon as possible (thought he), and then minstrel I shall not heed thy pròphecies."

He left the castle as he pretended on business, which carried him to Naples, and his departure was indeed a day of jubilee to his doméstics, who were now for the first time at liberty to indulge in that noisy gaiety which distinguishes. the lower order of people, but which their lord's severity had hitherto repressed.

Montalva, after stopping (a few days at Naples, set out unattended for the convent of St. Teresa; his arrival filled the bosom of the lady abbess with pleasure, she hastened to receive him, and sent to summon Isabel to the grate.-A. strange and new sensation filled the..

breast of Montalva, when he beheld the lovely girl whom he had rendered an orphan; he was not surprised at feeling remorse on seeing one whom, he had so greatly injured; but how could he account for the inexplicable pleasure which the sight of Isabel occasioned him. Lovely as she was, the heart of Montalva had ceased to throb at the sight of beauty, nor was the sentiment he felt, while he gazed on the blushing Isabel, of that nature which beauty creates ; it was neither desire nor admiration, but a feeling equally tender and pure. He recovered self-command enough to express his pleasure at the sight of Isabel, whom he informed that it was his intention that she should immediately take the veil.

The suddenness of the information robbed Isabel of that fortitude which she thought she had acquired, and she burst into tears:

"How is this? (cried Montalva angrily) have you not long known that

you were destined for a religious life, and do you now- -"

"Pardon me for interrupting you, signor (said the mother of St. Teresa). Retire my child (added she, turning to Isabel), I wish to speak to the signor in private."

Isabel curtsied in silence, and obeyed.

CHAP. X.

"CAN you, madam (cried Montalva), as soon as they were alone, inform me whence springs the reluctance which Isabel expresses to a destiny for which she has been intended from the first moment she saw the light; a destiny which she must embrace?"

"I regret to hear you say so, signor (replied the lady abbess), for it is one, at which the soul of Isabel recoils; but, perhaps, when you have heard what I am authorized to propose, you may change your purpose. Alberto Sforza, of a noble Neapolitan family,