"Oh, Senhor Don Luis, I am so glad to see you! for I have been trying everywhere to meet you, without success; for that horrid Padre Alfonzo kept so strict a watch on me, that I could not venture to your house. Oh, senhor! they have stolen away my dear child, and they have carried her to a convent, where they have shut her up, and will never let her out again; the cruel, wicked wretches! All the world has conspired against us; and even my old master, whom, till now, I always looked upon as an angel, has grown as bad as the rest, and now I have only got you to depend on. There is my young lady breaking her heart about you, and no one whom she cares about to comfort her." This news electrified Don Luis. "To what convent has Donna Clara been conveyed?" he exclaimed, eagerly. "'Twill be a consolation to know where she is." "To that of Santa Clara, senhor," answered Senhora Gertrudes; "and if you will write a short little note to her, I know it will be a consolation to her. There can be no harm in a little note, I'm sure; and I will take care that she receives it." Luis agreed with her that there could be no possible impropriety in his writing, and promised to do so. "There is to be mass again here to-morrow, when I will meet you, senhor, and I will carry your note, for I shall be able to gain permission, I hope, to visit my dear young mistress. She will not be obliged to take her first vows for some time to come, and after that there will be a whole year before she can profess; so that, in the mean time, something may happen to release her; so do not be cast down, senhor, as I told her, sweet child, to comfort her, though Heaven alone knows what chance she has of happiness." The service being concluded, Luis and the old nurse parted, he hastening home to employ himself in composing an epistle to Clara, which, instead of being the very little note the good Gertrudes recommended, swelled by degrees into several sheets, as the thoughts crowded on his mind, though, after all, they resolved themselves into two or three points,-- his devotion, his wretchedness, and his hopes; for it was not his nature to despair; besides, he felt assured that his love was returned, and, with that proud consciousness, how could he cease to cherish hope? We deem that man unworthy of a woman's affection whom the consciousness of possessing it does not raise above all fears, and give hopes of ultimately conquering all difficulties in his path. Such was the effect on the mind of Luis, and he determined that nothing should dispirit him till the fatal veil had, like the dark tomb, separated her from him for ever; then he felt that to him death would indeed be welcome.