reet bordering the convent wall. Here stood the
expectant porter, with a bundle in his hand, which he opened, and took
thence a long cloak, such as the women of middling rank in Madrid wore
in the winter season, with the customary mantilla or veil. With these,
still without speaking, the stranger hastily shrouded the form of the
novice, and once more hurried her on till about a hundred yards from
the garden gate he came to a carriage, into which he lifted Beatriz,
whispered a few words to the porter, seated himself by the side of the
novice, and the vehicle drove rapidly away.

It was some moments before Beatriz could sufficiently recover from her
first agitation and terror, to feel alive to all the strangeness of her
situation. She was alone with a stranger; where was Fonseca? She turned
towards her companion.

"Who art thou?" she said, "whither art thou leading me-and why--"

"Why is not Don Martin by thy side? Pardon me, senora: I have a billet
for thee from Fonseca; in a few minutes thou wilt know all."

At this time the vehicle came suddenly in the midst of a train of
footmen and equipages that choked up the way. There was a brilliant
entertainment at the French embassy; and thither flocked, all the
rank and chivalry of Madrid. Calderon drew down the blind and hastily
enjoined silence on Beatriz. It was some minutes before the driver
extricated himself from the throng; and then, as if to make amends for
the delay, he put his horses to their full speed, and carefully selected
the most obscure and solitary thoroughfares. At length, the carriage
entered the range of suburbs which still at this day the traveller
passes on his road from Madrid to France. The horses stopped before a
lonely house that stood a little apart from the road, and which from
the fashion of its architecture appeared of considerable antiquity. The
stranger descended and knocked twice at the door: it was opened by
an old man, whose exaggerated features, bended frame, and long beard,
proclaimed him of the race of Israel. After a short and whispered
parley, the stranger returned to Beatriz, gravely assisted her from the
carriage, and, leading her across the threshold, and up a flight of rude
stairs, dimly lighted, entered a chamber richly furnished. The walls
were hung with stuffs of gorgeous colouring and elaborate design.
Pedestals of the whitest marble placed at each corner of the room
supported candelabra of silver. The sofas and couches were