When we arose to retire to our respective apartments, and I mentioned that I should be off at dawn, the Prince shook me cordially by the hand, and bid me farewell with an almost paternal kindness. Glorvina, on whose arm he was leaning, did not follow his example--she simply wished me “a pleasant journey.” “But where,” said the Prince, “do you sojourn to?” “To the town of Bally--------,” said I, “which has been hitherto my head quarters, and where I have left my clothes, books, and drawing utensils. I have also some friends in the neighbourhood, procured me by letters of introduction with which I was furnished in England.” You know that a great part of this neighbourhood is my father’s property, and once belonged to the ancestors of the Prince. He changed colour as I spoke, and hurried on in silence. Adieu! the castle clock strikes twelve! What creatures we are! when the tinkling of a bit of metal can affect our spirits. Mine, however, (though why, I know not,) were prepared for the reception of sombre images. This night may be, in all human probability, the last I shall sleep in the castle of Inismore; and what then--it were perhaps as well I had never entered it. A generous mind can never reconcile itself to the practices of deception; yet to prejudices so inveterate, I had nothing but deception to oppose. And yet, when in some happy moment of parental favour, when all my past sins are forgotten, and my present state of regeneration only remembered--I shall find courage to disclose my romantic adventure to my father, and through the medium of that strong partiality the son has awakened in the heart of the Prince, unite in bonds of friendship these two worthy men but _unknown_ enemies--then I shall triumph in my impositions, and, for the first time, adopt the maxim, that good consequences may be effected by means not strictly conformable to the rigid laws of truth. I have just been at my window, and never beheld so gloomy a night--not a star twinkles through the massy clouds that are driven impetuously along by the sudden gusts of a rising storm--not a ray of light partially dissipates the profound obscurity, save what falls on a fragment of an opposite tower, and seems to issue from the window of a closet which joins the apartment of Glorvina. She has not yet then retired to rest, and yet ’tis unusual for her to sit up so late. For I have often watched that little casement--its position exactly corresponds with the angle of the castle where I am lodged. If I should have any share in the vigils of Glorvina!!!