At quitting him the Baron shook my hand affectionately, and assured me
that as soon as his Niece was gone, I might consider his House as my
own.

'Farewell, Don Alphonso!' said the Baroness, and stretched out her hand
to me.

I took it, and offered to carry it to my lips. She prevented me.

Her Husband was at the other end of the room, and out of hearing.

'Take care of yourself,' She continued; 'My love is become hatred, and
my wounded pride shall not be unatoned. Go where you will, my
vengeance shall follow you!'

She accompanied these words with a look sufficient to make me tremble.
I answered not, but hastened to quit the Castle.

As my Chaise drove out of the Court, I looked up to the windows of your
Sister's chamber. Nobody was to be seen there: I threw myself back
despondent in my Carriage. I was attended by no other servants than a
Frenchman whom I had hired at Strasbourg in Stephano's room, and my
little Page whom I before mentioned to you. The fidelity,
intelligence, and good temper of Theodore had already made him dear to
me; But He now prepared to lay an obligation on me, which made me look
upon him as a Guardian Genius. Scarcely had we proceeded half a mile
from the Castle, when He rode up to the Chaise-door.

'Take courage, Segnor!' said He in Spanish, which He had already learnt
to speak with fluency and correctness. 'While you were with the Baron,
I watched the moment when Dame Cunegonda was below stairs, and mounted
into the chamber over that of Donna Agnes. I sang as loud as I could a
little German air well-known to her, hoping that She would recollect my
voice. I was not disappointed, for I soon heard her window open. I
hastened to let down a string with which I had provided myself: Upon
hearing the casement closed again, I drew up the string, and fastened
to it I found this scrap of paper.'

He then presented me with a small note addressed to me. I opened it
with impatience: It contained the following words written in pencil:

Conceal yourself for the next fortnight in some neighbouring Village.
My Aunt will believe you to have quitted Lindenberg, and I shall be
restored to liberty. I will be in the West Pavilion at twelve on the
night of the thirtieth. Fail not to be there, and we shall have an
opportunity of concerting our future plans. Adieu.
Agnes.

At perusing these lines my transports exceeded all bounds; Neither did
I set any to the expressions of gratitude which I