We must not attempt to transcribe the conversation of Clara and Luis, as they slowly proceeded by a long and circuitous road towards the residence of the old Marchioness. She first asked eagerly for her father, when Luis assured her that though too unwell to engage personally in the search for her, he was in no danger, and that her presence would soon recover him. Why, we know not, but she did not even mention her brother's name. Luis then told her of his wretchedness, and almost madness, at her loss, and she confessed to have suffered as much, which afforded, doubtless, great consolation to him. Next he told her of all the fruitless endeavours he had made to recover her, which had worn him nearly to a skeleton; and, in answer, she told him of the visits she had received from the masked stranger, and of her suspicions as to who he was; when they both agreed, that, if she was right, the Count had acted so cautious a part, that though he as richly deserved hanging as his assistant Rodrigo, it would be utterly impossible to punish him by any legal means, though Luis vowed internally to take the first opportunity of chastising him. Yet they only slightly touched on these subjects; for there was a far more engrossing one which occupied the greater part of the time, as on it they had very much to say. What it was we leave our readers to guess, it being remembered that they had not met with an opportunity to converse since the evening when they first made their mutual acknowledgments of love; and they agreed that what they then felt was cold and tame, compared to their present feelings, after all the dangers and sufferings they had undergone. We, however, prefer leaving what are usually called love scenes to be described by our fair sister authoresses; because they can paint the characters of their own sex with far more delicate touches, and, besides, know much more about the subject than we old men possibly can, whose days of tender endearment have so long passed by. We shall, therefore, carry them safely to the gates of the palace, when Luis, lifting Clara from the carriage, supported her to the garden, where, under various tents and sheds, the family were still residing. The first person they encountered was old Gertrudes, who, the moment she observed them, gazed at them as if they were a couple of spirits from the dead, and then rushing towards them, seized Clara in her arms, with cries and tears of joy, almost smothering her with kisses; and then seizing on Luis, joined him in the embrace, bestowing alternate kisses on him; and if, in returning them, which he was bound to do, he did make some slight mistake in the person, we think he is justly to be excused, considering he had never before ventured on such a liberty. He then resigned Clara into her nurse's care, and was about to withdraw, when, clasping his hand, she raised it to her lips.