“By this hand,” answered Hildebrand, raising her trembling hand to his lips, “I could not have won the street, an’ I had been minded. I had scarce touched the ground, when a man started out on the path before me, with something in his hand, which I took to be a rapier. Though I was not afeard to encounter him, I had no desire to spill blood, and, therefore, I resolved to keep _perdu_ a while. But he was on the watch, and, whether he suspected my vicinity, or simply sought to overlook the house, he held his ground, and so kept me close. This wearied me, and I determined, whatever should ensue, to set forward again. The darkness favoured me, and, keeping close to the house, I crept stealthily onward, and paused not till I came here. After staying here a space, I had concluded to sally out, and, if no one should be about, try to gain the street; but at this juncture, I heard thy step approach, and that, of course, brought me to a stand. Not doubting that thou wast some enemy, I looked round for a hiding-place; and, by good fortune, espied yonder closet, where thou didst happily discover me.” “’Tis a downright tale of adventure,” observed Inez, with a smile. “And I will be surety,” remarked Hildebrand, in reply, “thy progress hither hath also been venturesome. How didst thou fare, lady?” Inez, quite reassured by their seeming security, did not hesitate to meet his inquiry with a full account of her excursion, and the thoughts and apprehensions that, according as its incidents were favourable or adverse, or her anxiety for Hildebrand more or less pressing, had marked its progress. Her narrative had a deeper effect on Hildebrand, whom his recent moments of reflection had rendered more collected, and less subservient to the wild impulses of passion, than she supposed; and inspired him with a more apparent interest than she had looked for. Indeed, in its detail of risks and terrors, it exhibited such a devoted affection for him, above what he had sought to excite, that he could no longer regard her as a mere light-of-love, or safely venture to trifle with her heart. The artless narration awakened his better nature, and, by the very confidence that it placed in him, called up in his bosom a sense of remorse, that was far from lending a stimulant to the dictates of passion. In the revelation of her fears and anxieties, he saw the tenderness and deep sensibility of her amiable heart, and became aware, by this discovery, that her character was not composed of the light elements he had imagined, but of all the choice and sterling qualities of her sex.