She made her escape from the convent and returned to her father’s house; but found no rest under the paternal roof.—Her parents upbraided her, and were proceeding to have her returned to the convent, when she pretended to go to her chamber for repose. She escaped by the window, and as she fled through the garden she met a handsome young Englishman to whom she at once told her story. He took her under his protection, without the least hesitation, and they lived together, in a retired part of the country several weeks. This young man was of a warm temperament, and here comes the strangest part of the story. He was so smitten by her charms that they upset his reason, and he went raving mad. Though she was actually at his disposal, he imagined that she was some great princess whose love he had sought in vain, and under this strange belief, he, one day threw himself from a cliff into a bed of rocks on the sea-shore and was killed.—She took possession of his mangled body and his effects, found out his friends and delivered them into their hands. She mourned long and bitterly for the loss of her lover; but her passionate nature again prevailed, and she accepted the offers of a native Count, who was soon killed in a quarrel. Believing that a fatality attended her in her own land, and learning that spies had been placed upon her actions by her relatives, she came to Brazil, and from thence, soon afterwards, to San Francisco. Such was Loretto, the Italian maid, whose fervid passions were kindled by the manly graces of Monteagle. She appeared to be all life and soul, and she made a lively impression upon our youth. As the evening waned, and while he sat conversing with Loretto, Monteagle heard three distinct, though very low taps, on the outer door. At the same time, he saw Blodget raise his head and listen. Then he conducted himself as if nothing had happened, and conversed carelessly with the woman to whom he had attached himself. But in a very few moments, he arose and whispering in the ear of Monteagle, said—‘I must quit you for a little while. I have forgotten something: but I will return before long.’ Blodget then departed and soon afterwards, Monteagle withdrew with Loretto. He saw no more of Blodget on that night. In the morning, he learned that Jamie, the murderer, had made good his escape in a somewhat mysterious manner. He had disappeared behind the sand-hills although surrounded by several hundred men. ‘The earth must have opened and swallowed him up,’ said Mr. Brown, the junior partner. ‘I think that he was not the robber of our store,’ said Mr. Vandewater, thoughtfully, ‘for he would scarcely have remained here all night, if he had shared in the booty.’ ‘What could have been his errand?’ said Brown. ‘The fellow might have blundered in here, in a fit of intoxication and gone to sleep,’ said Monteagle. ‘But why did he kill that tripeman?’ inquired Mr. Vandewater. ‘Oh, the fellow would kill anybody,’ said Monteagle.