Her cheerfulness declined, however, with every new day; her serene looks began to grow gloomy; her innate frankness and affability gave room to reserve and melancholy, which she endeavoured in vain to conceal. I surprised her several times fixing her eyes on me in a melancholy manner, and casting down her looks with consternation when she perceived that I observed it--she spoke little, and what she said was incoherent--yet her behaviour was not repelling--her bosom seemed to conceal some secret uneasiness, the cause of which I strove in vain to explore. As often as I began to speak of the _Unknown_, Amelia looked perplexed and timid at Lady Delier, who always turned the conversation to a different object. I was certain that the Irishman had been in the house; they even confessed that he had informed them of my elevation to the ducal dignity; but this was all I could learn. This circumstance and Amelia’s behaviour gave rise to apprehensions which made me suffer the torments of hell. I could not endure this situation longer than four days; at the evening of the fourth day I took advantage of an opportunity which I had to speak to Lady Delier in private, and pressed her to unfold that mystery to me. After many fruitless persuasions, I obtained at length the promise to be informed of what I so anxiously wished to know, and was requested to meet her at twelve o’clock the next day in the fir-grove behind the garden of the castle, when she would satisfy my curiosity. I awaited the noon-tide hour with impatience. At length the wished for hour arrived, and with the last stroke I was going to hasten to the fir-grove, however I met the Irishman on the stair-case. “Come with me, my Lord!” he said, as soon as he saw me! “Whither?” “You will be surprised in a most pleasing manner. Make haste, my carriage is waiting for you.” “I cannot accept your invitation before one o’clock. I must finish first a business of great importance, which cannot be postponed.” “My business also cannot be postponed, and is of far greater importance. I am going to take you to an old acquaintance whom you have ardently wished to see this good while.” “An old acquaintance--whom I have ardently wished to see?---It is not---” “Your _tutor_ I mean. Come, make haste!” I embraced the Irishman with a loud exclamation of joy, pressed him vehemently to my heart, and leaped into the carriage. We drove through the city gate; our horses gallopped at a furious rate, and yet they were too slow for my impatience. “Is he far from hence?” I exclaimed, “where does he live, is he well, does he know that I am coming?” “All that you shall know presently!” said the Irishman, ordering the coachman to stop. We got out of the carriage, and the sun was overclouding like the face of the Irishman. He uttered not a word, and made a silent signal to follow him.