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continued to influence his slumbers。
He still fancied himself to be in the Church of the Capuchins；
but it was no longer dark and solitary。 Multitudes of silver
Lamps shed splendour from the vaulted Roof； Accompanied by the
captivating chaunt of distant choristers； the Organ's melody
swelled through the Church； The Altar seemed decorated as for
some distinguished feast； It was surrounded by a brilliant
Company； and near it stood Antonia arrayed in bridal white； and
blushing with all the charms of Virgin Modesty。
Half hoping； half fearing； Lorenzo gazed upon the scene before
him。 Sudden the door leading to the Abbey unclosed； and He saw；
attended by a long train of Monks； the Preacher advance to whom
He had just listened with so much admiration。 He drew near
Antonia。
'And where is the Bridegroom？' said the imaginary Friar。
Antonia seemed to look round the Church with anxiety。
Involuntarily the Youth advanced a few steps from his
concealment。 She saw him； The blush of pleasure glowed upon her
cheek； With a graceful motion of her hand She beckoned to him to
advance。 He disobeyed not the command； He flew towards her； and
threw himself at her feet。
She retreated for a moment； Then gazing upon him with unutterable
delight；'Yes！' She exclaimed； 'My Bridegroom！ My destined
Bridegroom！' She said； and hastened to throw herself into his
arms； But before He had time to receive her； an Unknown rushed
between them。 His form was gigantic； His complexion was swarthy；
His eyes fierce and terrible； his Mouth breathed out volumes of
fire； and on his forehead was written in legible
characters'Pride！ Lust！ Inhumanity！'
Antonia shrieked。 The Monster clasped her in his arms； and
springing with her upon the Altar； tortured her with his odious
caresses。 She endeavoured in vain to escape from his embrace。
Lorenzo flew to her succour； but ere He had time to reach her； a
loud burst of thunder was heard。 Instantly the Cathedral seemed
crumbling into pieces； The Monks betook themselves to flight；
shrieking fearfully； The Lamps were extinguished； the Altar sank
down； and in its place appeared an abyss vomiting forth clouds of
flame。 Uttering a loud and terrible cry the Monster plunged into
the Gulph； and in his fall attempted to drag Antonia with him。
He strove in vain。 Animated by supernatural powers She
disengaged herself from his embrace； But her white Robe was left
in his possession。 Instantly a wing of brilliant splendour
spread itself from either of Antonia's arms。 She darted upwards；
and while ascending cried to Lorenzo；
'Friend！ we shall meet above！'
At the same moment the Roof of the Cathedral opened； Harmonious
voices pealed along the Vaults； and the glory into which Antonia
was received was composed of rays of such dazzling brightness；
that Lorenzo was unable to sustain the gaze。 His sight failed；
and He sank upon the ground。
When He woke； He found himself extended upon the pavement of the
Church： It was Illuminated； and the chaunt of Hymns sounded from
a distance。 For a while Lorenzo could not persuade himself that
what He had just witnessed had been a dream； so strong an
impression had it made upon his fancy。 A little recollection
convinced him of its fallacy： The Lamps had been lighted during
his sleep； and the music which he heard was occasioned by the
Monks； who were celebrating their Vespers in the Abbey Chapel。
Lorenzo rose； and prepared to bend his steps towards his Sister's
Convent。 His mind fully occupied by the singularity of his
dream； He already drew near the Porch； when his attention was
attracted by perceiving a Shadow moving upon the opposite wall。
He looked curiously round； and soon descried a Man wrapped up in
his Cloak； who seemed carefully examining whether his actions
were observed。 Very few people are exempt from the influence of
curiosity。 The Unknown seemed anxious to conceal his business in
the Cathedral； and it was this very circumstance； which made
Lorenzo wish to discover what He was about。
Our Hero was conscious that He had no right to pry into the
secrets of this unknown Cavalier。
'I will go；' said Lorenzo。 And Lorenzo stayed； where He was。
The shadow thrown by the Column； effectually concealed him from
the Stranger； who continued to advance with caution。 At length
He drew a letter from beneath his cloak； and hastily placed it
beneath a Colossal Statue of St。 Francis。 Then retiring with
precipitation； He concealed himself in a part of the Church at a
considerable distance from that in which the Image stood。
'So！' said Lorenzo to himself； 'This is only some foolish love
affair。 I believe； I may as well be gone； for I can do no good
in it。'
In truth till that moment it never came into his head that He
could do any good in it； But He thought it necessary to make some
little excuse to himself for having indulged his curiosity。 He
now made a second attempt to retire from the Church： For this
time He gained the Porch without meeting with any impediment； But
it was destined that He should pay it another visit that night。
As He descended the steps leading into the Street； a Cavalier
rushed against him with such violence； that Both were nearly
overturned by the concussion。 Lorenzo put his hand to his sword。
'How now； Segnor？' said He； 'What mean you by this rudeness？'
'Ha！ Is it you； Medina？' replied the Newcomer； whom Lorenzo by
his voice now recognized for Don Christoval； 'You are the
luckiest Fellow in the Universe； not to have left the Church
before my return。 In； in！ my dear Lad！ They will be here
immediately！'
'Who will be here？'
'The old Hen and all her pretty little Chickens！ In； I say； and
then you shall know the whole History。'
Lorenzo followed him into the Cathedral； and they concealed
themselves behind the Statue of St。 Francis。
'And now；' said our Hero； 'may I take the liberty of asking； what
is the meaning of all this haste and rapture？'
'Oh！ Lorenzo； we shall see such a glorious sight！ The Prioress
of St。 Clare and her whole train of Nuns are coming hither。 You
are to know； that the pious Father Ambrosio （The Lord reward him
for it！） will upon no account move out of his own precincts： It
being absolutely necessary for every fashionable Convent to have
him for its Confessor； the Nuns are in consequence obliged to
visit him at the Abbey； since when the Mountain will not come to
Mahomet； Mahomet must needs go to the Mountain。 Now the Prioress
of St。 Clare； the better to escape the gaze of such impure eyes
as belong to yourself and your humble Servant； thinks proper to
bring her holy flock to confession in the Dusk： She is to be
admitted into the Abbey Chapel by yon private door。 The
Porteress of St。 Clare； who is a worthy old Soul and a particular
Friend of mine； has just assured me of their being here in a few
moments。 There is news for you； you Rogue！ We shall see some of
the prettiest faces in Madrid！'
'In truth； Christoval； we shall do no such thing。 The Nuns are
always veiled。'
'No！ No！ I know better。 On entering a place of worship； they
ever take off their veils from respect to the Saint to whom 'tis
dedicated。 But Hark！ They are coming！ Silence； silence！
Observe； and be convinced。'
'Good！' said Lorenzo to himself； 'I may possibly discover to whom
the vows are addressed of this mysterious Stranger。'
Scarcely had Don Christoval ceased to speak； when the Domina of
St。 Clare appeared； followed by a long procession of Nuns。 Each
upon entering the Church took off her veil。 The Prioress crossed
her hands upon her bosom； and made a profound reverence as She
passed the Statue of St。 Francis； the Patron of this Cathedral。
The Nuns followed her example； and several moved onwards without
having satisfied Lorenzo's curiosity。 He almost began to despair
of seeing the mystery cleared up； when in paying her respects to
St。 Francis； one of the Nuns happened to drop her Rosary。 As She
stooped to pick it up； the light flashed full upon her face。 At
the same moment She dexterously removed the letter from beneath
the Image； placed it in her bosom； and hastened to resume her
rank in the process