At this moment a female servant of Donna Anna’s, who had accompanied Maria, came to speak to her, and recognizing Henry, she flew up stairs. Maria saw that we were discovered, and she cried to us, ‘Fly for your lives!’ The whole family collected, were now descending the stairs, and Maria was hurried up to her room. The old lady of the house assailed us with the most abusive epithets, the men-servants gathered in, and every thing wore a hostile appearance. The gentleman, however, to whom the letter was directed, commanded silence, and addressing us, ‘I do not presume to say what your intentions may be towards my ward, but being convinced of the identity of the individual who has already caused us so much trouble, I am forced, even against the laws of hospitality, to retract my request of you to remain here to-night, and for the safety of those committed to my charge, I must insist on you returning immediately to your quarters. If you have come here for the purpose of decoying Maria from this house, I can tell you that whatever inclination she once might have felt for this foolish young man, she is now better advised, and does not wish to be troubled with him any more.’ ‘Let me hear that from her own lips,’ cried Henry in a frenzied tone, ‘and I will give my word that I shall never trouble her again.’ A short consultation was held by the family, and after some minutes delay, Maria was brought down stairs trembling and weeping. But all their endeavours could not force her to repeat the words which they wished her to say. At length, Henry, as if inspired with more than his natural energy, exclaimed, ‘I find that every fresh effort of mine only causes you additional restraint and mortification. I must now cease to hope—they have cruelly parted us in this world, Maria, but we may yet meet. Suffer me,’ said he, ‘to take a last farewell, and I will trouble you no more.’ This was spoken with such an impassioned voice and gesture, that it had a visible effect on those around. Maria, who had been restrained by the lady of the house, now broke from her, and fell into Henry’s arms. While he pressed her to his bosom, a new spirit seemed to animate him—his eyes brightened—and putting his hand into his breast, where he had a pistol concealed, ‘Let us carry her off, Joseph,’ said he to me in English, ‘or die in the attempt.’ ‘Then you will die before you reach the door,’ said I; for the house was now filled with the retainers of the family; and as if they suspected his purpose, Maria was torn shrieking from his arms. Afraid that he might be induced to commit some rash act, I hurried him out of the house, and we returned home. I endeavoured to lead him into conversation, but he appeared not to hear me, nor did he speak a word during the journey; he evinced no feeling of any kind—his mind seemed to be in a state of the utmost confusion.