Let not the too presumptuous pen attempt to describe the scene which followed, language is by far too weak to convey any idea of it. Tears, sobs, and broken sentences of unbounded transport, burst from the overcharged bosoms of each individual; and then Inez felt herself led along the avenue which conducted to the hall. Although her eyes were dimmed by tears, and her thoughts were so fully occupied, our heroine could yet behold several of the old domestics standing in the path, who, as she passed, raised their hands and eyes towards Heaven, and gave utterance to their simple, but forcible, exclamations of gratitude to the Most High for the restoration of their ‘dear young lady’ to her home and friends. Another moment and Inez found herself in the well known parlor, endeared to her by so many fond remembrances and associations; and sinking on her knees, she clasped her hands fervently towards Heaven, and gave full vent to the expression of her ardent and spontaneous ejaculations of thanksgiving to the Almighty disposer of all events for her deliverance. No one offered to interrupt her, they were also too much occupied with the feelings of astonishment and unspeakable delight that filled their bosoms. But at length, Inez having ended her solemn prayer, suddenly arose from her knees, and looking eagerly around the room, she said: ‘But where is he? He is not here! Where is the poor old man—that he is not present to snatch his unfortunate daughter once more to his heart, and weep his tears of joy upon her bosom! My father—my poor, dear father; where is he?’ ‘My dear Inez,’ replied the Padre; ‘I can fully appreciate the anxiety of your feelings; but pray endeavor to restrain them. Your father has retired to his chamber and sleeps—do not disturb him lest—’ ‘And think you,’ interrupted our heroine, with the most violent emotion depicted in her countenance; ‘think you that I can rest calmly one moment without beholding that unfortunate, that doting parent from whom I have been so long and so cruelly separated? No—no—no—I will go to him; not an instant—’ Quickly up the stairs which led to the well known chamber of her father, our heroine bounded, but when she arrived at the door, she paused; a deathlike faintness came over her, she breathed short, and she was unable to move a step further. Monteagle and others entreated her to return to the parlor, and to defer the trying scene till the morning, but she answered them by a look which fully convinced them of her determination, and they therefore desisted. In a few moments she partially recovered herself, but still she had not sufficient courage or resolution to enter the chamber. She stood and listened, supported by the arm of her lover, and her ears caught the sound of the breathing of the patient, every respiration going to her heart like a stream of fire. In a moment the breathing sounds ceased, and all was still as death. ‘He sleeps, he sleeps, and probably dreams of her who—’