/J
 
 Sh3
 
 LI E) R.AFLY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UN IVLR.5ITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 F844a. 
 
 V.I

 
 ANGELO GUICCIARDlNIi 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 3Santiit of tf)e'9llp0. 
 
 A ROMANCE. 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES. 
 
 By SaPHIA FRANCES, 
 
 AUTHOR OF YIVONIO, CONSTANCE DE LINDENSDORF, 
 AND THE NUN OF MISERICORDIA. 
 
 -There is a power 
 
 Unseen that rules the illimitable world, 
 
 While man, who madly^eems himself the lord 
 Of all, is nought but weakness and dependence." 
 
 Thomson. 
 " He seemed for dignity composed, 
 
 And high exploit: but " 
 
 Milton. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed for HENRY COLBURN, 
 
 ENGLISH AND FOREIGN LIBRARY, CONDUIT-SXREETj 
 BOND-STRE£T. 
 
 1809.
 
 B, Clarke, Printer, WcU-Strcet, Cripplegatc.
 
 8^3 
 ANGELO GUICCIARDINl 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 On the delightful banks of tlie lake 
 Magglore, in the Milanese^ was once situ- 
 ated the lonely, but rather elegant <vm\ 
 spacious cottage of the Signora di Ber- 
 lotti. Surrounded by a luxuriant garden 
 and vineyard, whicli extended along the 
 foot of the tall hill that slieltercd it on one 
 side, and concealed by groves of aijcicnt 
 and lofty chesnut-trees, that descended 
 even to the very edge of the' lake, <hi?? 
 humble residence was impervious to the 
 eye of the traveller ; but it was well known 
 to the neighbouring peasantry, as the abode 
 of pious charity ; and sometinies to the 
 weary pilgrim, as the sacred retreat where 
 hospitality loved to dispense th^ gifts 
 which a liberal and compassionate spirit 
 ^spared from a circumscribed fortune. 
 
 But, except the chance visitors above 
 ^ alluded to, the Signora di Berlotti's inter- 
 course with society was extremely limited, 
 as she never received on terms of intH\iacy 
 
 VOL. I, B
 
 any persons but the superior of a small 
 priorj at no great distance from the cottage, 
 and a person who usnallj paid her a short 
 visit once in the space of two years. It 
 AVtis not^ therefore, surprising that, after 
 a residence of some years in this retired 
 cot, that the signora was as little known as 
 jon her first arrival there. 
 
 Herself, a lovely child, her daughter, 
 and tw o domestics,were now the sole inhabi- 
 tants of the cottage. On the signora*s 
 first fixing her abode there, the household 
 had, however, consisted of three servants; 
 but the person who acted as housekeeper, 
 having married and quitted her service, 
 the signora d-d not think proper to replace 
 her ; but endeavoured to dissipate a secret 
 melancholy which preyed on her ow^n 
 spirits, by superintending some ' of the 
 domestic concerns herself. The education 
 of her daughter, liowever, formed her 
 principal and most pleasing occupation. 
 
 The young Cecilia di Berlotti, whose 
 dawning excellencies seemed to promis' the 
 coir-pletion of every hope which find 
 maternal lovti could form, possessed all 
 that gentie^u SjI, docility, and intelligence 
 of disposition, w^liich not only rendered her 
 a most ready pupil, but also made her 
 capable of diverting and soothing the 
 sorrows of her pa-ciit 
 
 At t-ie pfiini when this lovely girl had 
 nearly r.ached her s*>:fe<nth year, but 
 few traces of woe \wei observable in' the 
 striking f-atures of the Signora di Ber-
 
 lottij except when at times her piercing 
 eyes were riv^tted on the beautiful 
 countenance of Cecilia, and then^ indeed, 
 her looks seemed to express the most keen 
 and affiictive emotions. 
 
 But these instances were rare, and never 
 occurred but when in guarded and obscure 
 terms she spoke of what might be the future 
 destiny of this beloved and amiable child : 
 but whatever the signora might feel in 
 these moments of anxiety and dread, her 
 emotions could not be more paisifiil than 
 those which her distress excited in the 
 artless bosom of the object of her cares by 
 such a conduct. Cecilia was herself as 
 little acquainted with her mother's rank 
 in life, or former connexions, as were any 
 of the inhabitants of the banks of the 
 lake; and could only conjecture that her 
 revered parent must have moved in the 
 higher circles, from the nature of the 
 education bestowed upon herself. To the 
 study of every elegant art and accaniplish- 
 ment, except that of dancing, Cecilia had 
 been early devoted ; not, however, to the 
 exclusion of all that was useful ; for if 
 the amiable girl excelled in music, that 
 charming science which so peculiarly dis- 
 tinguishes the natives of her country, and 
 though her voice and musical perforni'f'ce 
 were seldom, if ever equalled, she v 
 well acquainted w ith tlie best moral w orlis 
 in her own language, and these of 
 several other countries^ while her know- 
 ledge of everv requisite domestic concern 
 b2
 
 was compleat: nor were her exquisite taste 
 and talents for drawing inferior to tliose of 
 some of the best masters. 
 
 Thus accomplished, Cecilia must have 
 been an object of admiration to all who 
 might have known her, had she even been 
 deticient in beauty or grace ; but her person 
 was as perfect as the human form can be, 
 and all the united charms of modesty, sensi- 
 bility, iiigenuousness and innocence, irra- 
 diated. With an expression ahnost celestial, 
 the most lovely countenance. Much fairer 
 than the generality of her countrywomen, 
 lier complexion wa§ yet frequently tinted 
 with the brightest carnation; while her 
 dark auburn tresses half shaded a brow 
 white as the lily of the desert, and flowed 
 far below her shoulders in many a graceful 
 wave. The perfect regularity of her fea- 
 tures was not rendered uninteresting by 
 ihat sameness which too often characterizes 
 beauty ; but every feeling of lu r soul was 
 discernible in her mild, yet birge dark eyes, 
 which sometimes slione with all the anima- 
 tion of virtue, or v/ere half robbed of their 
 radiance by the soft stealing tears of pity 
 and syn^pathy for the aiiiicted and the poor. 
 Unconscious of tlie excellencies which dis- 
 tinguished her, Cecilia was unaffected in 
 her manners, and sincerely pious; and if 
 at times she heard her mother, impelled by 
 admiration and wonder,- vent an cxcl'ima- 
 tion of rapture at her talents, th.e lovely 
 girl found in such inadvertencies no food 
 for vanity, but only a higher piotive of
 
 gratitude and love to that dtar parent^ 
 whose forming hand had made her what 
 she was. But Cecilia's instructions were 
 not only received from the signora : the 
 Father Ascoliini was also an unwearied 
 tutor to her in many studies^ in which her 
 mother must have failed ; and his amiable 
 pupil wasj of cour?e, well informed on 
 subjects, on which she could fear few fe- 
 male competitors. 
 
 CHAP. 11. 
 
 Cecilia had just attained her sixteenth 
 year, when one evening, as the inhabitants 
 of the little cot had just finished their 
 simple supper, a young man, in the habit 
 of a hunter, rushed suddenly into the room 
 where the signorfi, her daughter, and the 
 father Ascoliini, tiien sat. 
 
 The appearance of the youth, whose 
 figure was most strikingly interesting — his 
 hurried voice, iiushed cheek, and half-in- 
 dignant, half-fearful manner — threw the 
 whole party into surprise and dismay. All 
 started up. Cecilia, retreatingly, clasped 
 the hand of her mother ; and the father 
 Ascoliini advanced a step forward ; while 
 the young man, in quick and agitated ac- 
 cents, besought shelter and concealment 
 from some men who had pursued him from 
 the edge of the wood that extended from 
 b3
 
 the hill^ ort the side of which the cottage 
 stood, to the glen beneath. 
 
 *• They cauuot have peixeived where I 
 have taken iXiAige/' he added ; ^' for they 
 were not in sight when I entered tlv: Gotl- 
 and they may perhaps pass on/' 
 
 He was nou interrupted by a loud knock- 
 ing at the outward door. The look of 
 anguished entreaty that he threw on the 
 signora permitted her to hesitate no longer. 
 ^* Cecilia/' she exclaimed, '' the recess.'' 
 Cecilia needed not a repetition of this inti- 
 mation of her mother's wishes: she looked 
 at the young man to follow her, and quickly 
 slipping aside a paniiei in the wainscot of 
 the apartmeist, glided through, fc^llowed 
 by the young huoter, whom she conducted 
 into a small circular stone room, and, 
 after modestly whispering him to proceed 
 along a narrow passage, the entrance of 
 which she pointed out, returned by another 
 way into the public part of the cottage, 
 and re-entered the parlour, where she found 
 tlirce strangers, standing, conversing with 
 the Father AscoUini, while the signora 
 lay half-reclined on a couch, her veil 
 wholly shaduig her features. 
 
 As Cecilia opened the door, one of the 
 strangers, who was speaking, suddenly 
 paused, and turned quickly round. She 
 would have retreated ; but the voice of 
 her mother, faintly commanding her to re^ 
 main, forbade her leaving the room. 
 
 The signora threw her veil aside, and 
 beckoned her daughter to approach her.
 
 Cecilia obeyed, while still a silence wa? 
 preserved by the strangers, who gazed uii 
 her with the most earnest curiosity for a 
 moment^ which Ascollini perceiving, now 
 attempted to divert their attention, by de- 
 claring that he knew not the object of 
 their pursuit. 
 
 '' Confound your Jesuitical prevarica- 
 tion/' now cried one of the men, in a rough 
 voice : "' we don't say that you know him ; 
 we only ask you whether you have seen 
 such a fellow pass through your ground 
 just now. But, by St. Peter, I believe I 
 tietd not doubt much of his being hcre^ 
 when T see what might attract any man 
 into this gloomy hut." And \vi looked at 
 the trembling and alarmed Cecilia with a 
 stare and a half smile which but too clearly 
 evinced hi^ meaning; and (hen throwing 
 himself into a chair, demanded wine and 
 other refreshments. 
 
 Guispardo and Lbdelli^ the two domes- 
 tics, were now summoned by- the Father 
 Ascollini, and ordered to bring in what re- 
 - fresh ments the house afforded. 
 
 The constrained indigi^aiion and but too 
 apparent alarm of Akcoliini struck un- 
 known horrors to the mind of the innocent 
 Cecilia. She sunk beside her motiu • on 
 the sofa, but instantaneously feit suf- 
 ficient cause to condemn her own want of 
 fortitude '; for tliQ man, whose audacious 
 speech had already so much terrified her, 
 sprang up, and striding to the sofa^, 
 B 4
 
 clasped her hand in hisj and^ with a loud 
 laugh^ exclaimed : — 
 
 '' Why, you siUy fairy ! are you 
 afraid of me ? Though I am a robber^ 
 I'm a man of honour ; and although I have 
 entered your cot so roughly^ you may trust 
 to nty iwctection henceforward. I give 
 you my solemn promise^ that I wiii respect 
 your residence ; and remember, that An- 
 gdo Guicciardini pledges himself to be- 
 friend you while he lives." 
 
 The robber took off bis cap, and pressed 
 his lips to i;.e shining scymeler he held in 
 his h:i5}d. Cecilia gazed on him. with si- 
 lent av.e and wonder. His tall and mar- 
 tial figure, arrayed in the hunter's garb, 
 looked graceful, but gigantic : his belt 
 was si uck with pistols and daggers; and 
 liis commanding forehead, his dark locks 
 beirjg- thrown aside^ di&played a deep scar, 
 while his large penetrating eyes seemed to 
 express feelings which his air and rough- 
 ioni d voice belied ; while in his manner and 
 speech w ere strangely mixed manly dignity 
 and apparently-assumed vulgarity. 
 
 " Surely this man is not what he would 
 affect to be '."involuntarily thought Ceci- 
 lia^ as her tiraid but earnest glance rested 
 for a nu)ment on the robber, who, seeming 
 to read a degree of risiijg confidence iu 
 her looks, said — 
 
 " Hem ! you think then that you may 
 rest some hope on my word. Well — the 
 word of a robher — do you hear^ jounj;:
 
 9 
 
 ]ady, the xijorcl of a rodber " and he 
 
 laughed aloud. 
 
 Cecilia shrank back dismayed^ abashed^ 
 and confounded at the strange facility 
 with which she had in part believed the 
 word of this singular man. She was af- 
 flicted and astonished at hor having for a 
 moment forgotten the delicacy and caution 
 which onj^it to liave distingui^^hed her 
 mind binder such a circumstance. 1 he 
 deepest blwsh, overspread her face; and 
 she was reclining her head on the bosom of 
 her agitated motlier, when the robber, sud- 
 denly beading forward, again caught her 
 arm: his hand trembled, and his deep- 
 toned voice faltered, as he exclaimed — 
 
 '' Look up I — once more, look up, and 
 observe me attentively. Remeoiber, 'tis 
 the robber Angelo who commands yon to 
 mark well his features — those features that 
 may one day be imprinted on your soul in 
 characters of fire !" • 
 
 Horror-struck and amazed, Cecilia felt 
 irresistibly jnipelled to raise her eyes to the 
 strongly marked features of Angclo: She ex- 
 pected to see ail the fierceness and depravity 
 of his character pictured there; but she met 
 only the saddened gaze of tei?derness. 
 'Tv/as such a look as might have charac- 
 terized the countenance of a veteran war- 
 rior, when his soul was softened by the 
 keen emotions of unfeigned pity and bene- 
 volence. 
 
 Cecilia gazed on him for a moment : im- 
 definabiC feolins^s agitated her soul ; she 
 
 ^3 5
 
 10 
 
 felt internally convulsed, and the unbid- 
 den tears rushed from her eyes. 
 
 The robber grasped her soft hand harder 
 in his. '' Cecilia," he cried — '' Cecilia, I 
 have been disappointed and angry at the 
 facility which you displayed, in seeming to 
 credit the promise of such a being as I 
 am : but I now repeat that promise ; and 
 remember that in the robber Afigelo Guic- 
 ciardini, Cecilia di Berlotti will ever have 
 a protector/' 
 
 He now let go her hand, and^ after com- 
 manding the men who accompanied him to 
 withdraw, turned towards the Father As- 
 collini, and, with a severe look, said : 
 
 ^^ And you. Father Ascollini, observe, I 
 know you. If the young man whom I 
 have pursued, and too well conjecture to 
 have entered here, is met by you at any fu- 
 ture period, recollect that I now command 
 you never to question him as to the cause 
 of my visit here. He will not tell you,^ 
 unasked, why I have sought him : ques- 
 tion him not; and fail not likewise to re- 
 member that your pupil is now protected 
 by Angelo Guicciardini." 
 
 The robber now rushed from the room, 
 and summoning his followers with the 
 shrill sound of his horn, they quitted the 
 cottage; and soon the distant echo of the 
 bugle spoke the speed of their flight. 
 
 Tlitj consternation of the little party they 
 had left ceased not til I the last feeble sound 
 of the horn died away among the windings 
 of the mountains; and then the Father
 
 II 
 
 AscoUini, starting from a reverie into 
 which he had fallen^ exclaimed — 
 
 ^^ Where is the youth whose precipitate 
 and rude entry has exposed us to such an 
 insolent outrage." 
 
 ''Ay, where is he, my Cecilia?" en- 
 quired the signora, in a confused and half- 
 abstracted manner, while her ]v*?i cing eyes 
 were rivetted on Ascoliini, who was now 
 pacing the room with a quick and agitat d 
 step. 
 
 Cecilia, but half recovering from the 
 recent confusion of miiid in whirh ^he had 
 been involved, arose, and was approaching 
 towards the pannel, designing to liberate 
 the youth from his place of concealment, 
 \vhen Father Ascoliini drew her back, say- 
 ing, in a severe tone — 
 
 '' I now recollect. Return, my dear 
 child; it is not prudent that ?/ow should 
 again attend to this young man ; that care 
 must now be mine." 
 
 * He then led her back to the sofa, and, 
 taking up a light, passed through the 
 pannel. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Ere Cecilia could sufficiently recover her- 
 self from the amazement and distress which 
 the recent scene occasioned her, the par/osl 
 was drawn aside ; and the Father Ascoiliai 
 re-entered the room^ supporting the young
 
 12 
 
 hunter^ wlio^ partly assisted by leaning oji 
 his speaf;, slowly and languidly ap- 
 proached. 
 
 - Cecilia, urged by the impulse of com-^ 
 passion, now started up, and was hastening 
 to pour some wine into a goblet, meaning 
 to present it to the young stranger, when 
 Ascollini, who had just placed the youth 
 ia a chair, snatched the cup out of her 
 hand, and, with a look of auger, desired 
 her to attend to her mother. Cecilia, co- 
 vered with the blushes which surprise and 
 confusion threw over .her fair face, hastily 
 retreated. She was not conscious that she 
 had committed any improper action ; and 
 consequently the look of the father struck 
 her as singular and oifensive. 
 
 The signora also had observed the 
 glance of Ascollini, and felt an emotion of 
 indignant pride rising in her heart. She 
 arose, and approaching the chair on which 
 the young man was placed, silently essayed 
 to assist the father in recovering him, 
 while her cold and proud air seemed to rc- 
 cai the prior to his accustomed style of be- 
 haviour, and he now said : ' This young 
 man has been slightly wounded ; and I 
 wished your daughter to retire, list the 
 sight of his blood-stained dress should af- 
 fect her too violently. Let me entreat you, 
 signora, to take her hence, and allow me 
 the attendance of Gu ispardo and Lodelli^ 
 who will be sufficient assistants to me." 
 
 The signora, who now perceived that 
 the prior had spoken truly^ bowed an as-
 
 13 
 
 sent, and leading the dreadfully-shocked 
 Cecilia from the room, sent the domestics 
 to the assistance of the young man, and 
 then retired to her own apartment with 
 her daughter ; where^ interdicting all con- 
 versation on the recent ievents^ she^ with 
 Cecilia, passed the night in prayers. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The brilliant beams of the morning sun 
 had scarcely tinged the bosom of the lake^ 
 when the Signora di Berlotti and Cecilia 
 quitted the apartment of the former, and 
 met the Father Ascollini in their usual sit- 
 ting room. 
 
 The countenance of the prior was now 
 pale and disturbed, and there was a haggard 
 expression of discontent visible in his eyes, 
 which Cecilia had never before observed in 
 them. As she entered, he looked at her 
 with a stealing, but scrutinizing glance, 
 and when she joined her enquiries to those 
 of her mother relative to the state of the 
 youth, he answered querulously, and then 
 fervently wished that the young stranger 
 had never entered the cottage. The sig-r 
 nora, after a short silence, directed Cecilia 
 to give some order, which she had forgot- 
 ten, to Lode'li; and the moment she with- 
 drew, the prior, with much agitation in his 
 manner, began to inveigh against the youth
 
 14 
 
 who was thus thrown on their pitj and 
 protection for awhile. 
 
 " i cannot induce him by any argument 
 I can devise, to reveal to me who or what 
 he is. His language js elegant — his man- 
 ner most insinuating : I believe he is not 
 unlearned, aiid- '* 
 
 '' And how can all this concern us, 
 father?" enquired the surprised signora." 
 Is he any thing more to us than the object 
 of our pity and present care \" 
 
 '' Present !" repeated the prior^ '^ I am 
 much deceived if he will not prove an 
 object of much future care to jou. He is 
 very handsome : his manner of thanking me 
 for the little services I have rendered him^ 
 prove him possessed of the most prepossess- 
 ing manners and address. He is not an 
 object whom Cecilia can long behold with 
 indifference : he seems near twenty^ and 
 she is sixteen ; and so lovely " 
 
 ^' Father Ascollini I'' exclaimed the sig- 
 nora, in a tone which instantly checked the 
 acrimonious impatience of the father's 
 style, and covered his cheek with the deep 
 blush of confusion Hesitatingly he now 
 continued. ''Perhaps my anxiety for the 
 happiness of my amiable pupil, may have 
 led me to indulge fears equally vain and 
 improbable; but surely, it would be better 
 if we could induce this youth to accept an 
 asylum at my convent, than suffer him to 
 continue here even for another day. I have 
 already proposed this to him, but he has 
 absolutely refused my offered kindness^ and
 
 15 
 
 has actually entreated me to obtain jour 
 permission for him to remain in the cottage 
 l\)r a few dajs longer ; averring, in excuse 
 for this request, that he is no stranger to 
 the custom of your cottage; that is, never 
 to return the vv^eary or afflicted from your 
 door. He then mentioned several instances 
 of sick pilgrims having been sheltered by 
 you for days together," 
 
 The signora did not immediately reply. 
 She sat for a few moments apparently re^ 
 voiving what course she should in the pre- 
 sent instance pursue ; and at length she 
 determined not to reject the request of the 
 joung hunter; and, of course assured the 
 Father AscoUini that such was her inten- 
 tion. 
 
 Ascollini heard this resolve without mak- 
 ing one more comment on the subject, and 
 immediately withdrew to inform the young 
 man that his request had been granted. 
 
 When he returned to the parlour, he 
 found Cecilia preparing breakfast; and 
 during this meal, which he partook with 
 very little appetite, the father failed not to 
 make female decorum the topic of his con- 
 versation ; and as his hints and remarks 
 were certainly just and prudent, the sig- 
 nora affected not to perceive tlie pointed 
 expression of his manner ; while the inno- 
 cent Cecilia, wholly unconscious that they 
 were directed towards herself, listened 
 with an acquiescent attention, and unem- 
 barrassed manner, which half restored the 
 father to his usual complacency.
 
 16 
 
 Almost immediately after breakfast^ 
 Father Ascollini visited the joung guest of 
 the signora, who had not as yet quitted the 
 room with which he had been accommo- 
 dated on the preceding night. 
 
 In a short time the prior returned to the 
 breakfast-room, and, with a look of 
 peevish vexation, informed the signora that 
 the young stranger was much better. 
 
 '' But," added he, '' 1 cannot induce 
 him to give any particular account of him- 
 self : he has had even the obstinacy and 
 audacity to tell me, that, as it is not to me 
 that he is indebted for his good accommo- 
 dation in the cottage^ he does not consider 
 himself under any necessity to be so unre- 
 served towards me, as I sccin inclined to 
 wish.'' Ascollini then recommended to 
 the signora to see the young man herself, 
 and to endeavour to prevail upon him to 
 declare who he really was. 
 
 The signora did not hesitate a moment 
 in following this advice, and immediately 
 proceeded to the chamber where her young 
 guest still remained. The prior then re- 
 tired, after desiring Cecilia to be ready to 
 receive her accustomed lessons in about a 
 couple of hours, as he was merely going 
 to call at a coUi-o-e at no great distance, 
 where he should not remain much longer 
 than that time.
 
 17 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Cecilia proceeded to arrange her books 
 and maps^ but herthoughts were occupied 
 by the joung stranger and her mother, till 
 the female domestic, Lodelli, came into 
 the room, and drew her attention to another 
 subjeci;. In short, when the signora entered 
 the room, she found Cecilia listening with 
 earnest attention to Lodelli, who was 
 so eagerly detailing a marvellous account 
 of the exploits of the robber Angelo Guic- 
 ciardini to her young lady, that neither 
 was conscious of the entrance of the sig- 
 nora till she spoke. 
 
 Cecilia, deeply blushing at having lis- 
 tened to a subject which she feared would 
 not be pleasing to her mother, stood silent 
 and diffident, while Lodelli respectfully at- 
 tempted an apology ; but the signora was 
 not displeased, and therefore dismissed her 
 without any reprimand. 
 
 When the servant had retired, the sig- 
 nora, addressing Cecilia, said — 
 
 " You wish, I perceive, to hear some 
 particulars of the man whose singular 
 visit so much alarmed us last night, my 
 Cecilia. That the name of Angelo Guic- 
 ciardini has hitherto been unknown to you, 
 is a circumstance to be attributed to our 
 very reel use. mode of life, and to the strict 
 injunctions which I have ever laid on my 
 domestics never to distract your attention 
 with tales of wonder. The name of Ange-
 
 18 
 
 lo has, however, been famous throughout 
 this part of the country for some vears; 
 and he is unmolested in his retreat oii ac- 
 count of the services which he renders to 
 the peasantry. lie is undoubtedly a rob- 
 ber, but he has never been kninyn to out- 
 rage the persons of those who have fallen 
 into his power : the crime of murder has 
 never, it is said, been itriputed to him ; and 
 many instances are recorded of his having 
 saved numberless interided victims from the 
 ferocious cruelty of the other hordes of 
 banditti that infest (he Alps This man, 
 in short, is described as holding' a kind of 
 sovereignty, aod of dispensius: favours and 
 justice in a most impaitial manner His 
 word is said to be ever sacredly fulfilled ; 
 and if he promises his pr(j(ection to any 
 individuals, they are in general secured 
 from the power of their enemies: but this 
 report I cannot fully credit : he has thought 
 proper to promiseyou, Cecilia^ this protec- 
 tion. How far it can prove serviceable to 
 one WiiO will not seek security amid A!ge- 
 rine wildernesses, tiuie alone must deter- 
 mine : but as I do not intend to expatiate 
 on the character of Angelo, I will hasten 
 to mention the circumstance which has led 
 me to speak of this smgular robber. The 
 young man to whom my cottage Iwst night 
 aiforded protection from the pursuit of 
 Angelo, is, I understand, an orphan of 
 noble birth, and of a family most peculiar- 
 ly unfortunate;' he iias been adopted and 
 brought up by a hermit^ who, protected by
 
 19 . 
 
 this Angela, lived/ hid from the world;, 
 amid the wildest recesses of the xVlps. 
 These circumstances^ my Cecilia^ you 
 must carefully conceal, and in speaking of 
 this young man, remember that we are 
 allowed only to saj he is an orphan^ his 
 occupation iha-t of a hunter^ and his name 
 OrAzio Angelo. 
 
 '^ Ahg-eiol" repeated Cecilia. '' Is he 
 then related to the robber ?" 
 
 ** He has been protected by him/' re- 
 plied the signora, significantly. Cecilia 
 turijed pale, and involurttarily shuddered. 
 
 The entrance of Father Ascollini put a 
 period to the conversation of the signora 
 and her daughter. In reply to the questions 
 of the father, relative to the state of his 
 voung patient, the signora briefly informed 
 him that tiie joung man had acquainted 
 her that he was an orphan, had bfen a 
 hunter, and intended entering into the 
 military profession ; and that his" name was 
 Orazio Angelo. 
 
 '' And no doubt the spurious offspring 
 of that noted Angelo, who insulted you 
 last night by forcibly intruding himself 
 here in pursuit of his truant son," observ- 
 ed the lather with contemptuous bitter- 
 ness. 
 
 '' You are severe, Fatlier Ascollini,'* 
 said the signora, mildly. '' I believe the 
 youth has not been educated in the school 
 of Angelo Guicciardini '' 
 
 '' It is better to be severely cautious^ 
 than to become the dupe of this young
 
 §0 
 
 accomplished deceiver, who, no douht, will 
 be figuring awaj in a splendid style in some 
 capital, as a foreigner of distinction, for 
 he speaks three or four languasres with 
 tohrable correctness,'' replied the father 
 wiHi increased asperity. 
 
 The signora was hurt^ and more secretly 
 affected than she was willing to acknow- 
 ledge even to herself; but not thinking it 
 proper to enter iato any further argument 
 on the subject, she withdrev^, leaving 
 Cecilia to'receive a portion of her daily 
 instructions from the father. 
 
 For the first time Ascollini had just 
 cause to complain of his pupil. With a 
 mind fully occupied by reflections relative 
 to the robber Angelo and the young hunter^ 
 Cecilia in vain attempted to yield her at- 
 tention to the lessons of the father. Books, 
 maps, and globes, courted her wandering 
 thoughts without success ; and it was not 
 till after Ascollini had thrice declared that 
 she was devoid of common comprehension 
 that she had recollection to apologize; 
 which she did by artlessly confessing that 
 the thoughts of the robber and the young 
 man had so bewildered her ideas, that she 
 found it impossible to apply to her studies 
 as she wished to do. 
 
 Cecilia expected that this confession 
 would induce her tutor to lecture her se- 
 verely. She was mistaken. Ascollini 
 piqued himself upon being an admirable 
 judge of human nature; and supposing, 
 from the ingenuousness of his young pu-
 
 21 
 
 pil's ackno^vleclgment^ that the robber and 
 Orazio were the subjects of her thoughts, 
 that the appearance of the latter had made 
 no particular impression on her mind^ felt 
 rather more satisfied than he had done for 
 some hoursj ana therefore forbore to make 
 any further comment on her abstraction, 
 and soon withdrew^ saying, that he should 
 DOW again \isjt the young man, of whose 
 principles he declared he entertained the 
 most fearful suspicions. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Cecilia, tlins left alone to her reflec- 
 tions, sat d >wn to her embroidering frame, 
 to finish a piece of work which Ascollini 
 was to dispose of at a convent at Sesto, the 
 produce of such articles furnishing the sig- 
 nora's principal means of relieving the dis- 
 tressed peasants, and strangers, who so 
 often claimed her bounty Equally vain, 
 however, was her present attempt to fix 
 her attention on her emplosment. The 
 robber, the young ^lunter — Angelo's pro- 
 mise of a protection which she seemed so 
 little to need, and the angry conjectures 
 of Father Ascollini, funiished sufHcient 
 and interesting employment for a mind till 
 now unused to the contemplation of siiigu- 
 lar events within the limits of its own jb- 
 servation Soon her fair hand rested in- 
 active on the satin, and her bright browp
 
 22 
 
 tresses shaded lier eyes, so unconsciouslj 
 fixed on the vivid colours of the flowers 
 she had so skilfully imitated. 
 
 '' Last night I thought/' she mentally 
 repeated to herself, *' my dear mother 
 seemed to think the words and conduct of 
 the robber Angelo as prophetic of a thou- 
 sand future evils to me : to-day she is calm 
 and collected, seems to attach no conse- 
 quence to his promise of protection, and 
 appears to be wholly free from fear. This 
 is contradictory." And now Cecilia blushe(J 
 at having dared, even in thought, to re- 
 volve and scrutinize the conduct of her re- 
 vered parent. Then her reflections turned 
 on the young Orazio. The timidity of 
 youthful innocence — the terror she sufl*er<^d 
 at the moment of his sudden entrance into 
 the cottage, had prevented her from parli- 
 eularly noticing him ; but the glance she 
 had caught of his face and forn) was still 
 sufficiently correct to assure her she had 
 never seen any human being so strikingly 
 interesting and handsome as the young 
 hunter. Cecilia would have thought he 
 looked too noble to be a robber, even had 
 not her mother assured her that he was the 
 orphan son of illustrious parents. 'Twas 
 true she had been told that he was edu- 
 cated by a man protected by Angelo- Guic- 
 ciardini ; but then did it follow of course 
 that Orazio must be possessed of aban- 
 doned principles, such as Father AscoUini 
 l^ared him tainted with, because his pre- 
 ceptor had been protected, perhaps from
 
 23 
 
 some powerful and unjust oppressors, by 
 the foniiidable Angelo Guieciardini. '^' Oh^ 
 no !" she mentally added;, " for is not An- 
 gelo said to protect the good and innocent ? 
 Nay, has he not otl'ered me his protection^ 
 and certainly I have done no wrong; and 
 therefore 1 will not be so unjust as Father 
 Ascollini seems to be ; I will not condemn 
 without conviction.'-* 
 
 Thus did the innocent Cecilia uncon- 
 sciously prepare her artless mind to receive 
 prepossessions which she supposed her mo- 
 ther had nr.ost carefully sought to prevent 
 her imbibing, by communicating to her the 
 circumstance of Orazio's having been 
 brought up by a person peculiarly be- 
 friended by the robber Angelo. 
 
 The sweet and soft serenity that ever 
 succeeds the resolution of thinking with 
 charity aud compassion of the unknovk^n 
 and unfortunate, now diffused itself through 
 the soul, and over the mind-illumined fea- 
 tures of the young Cecilia; and^, raising 
 her eyes and heart to that beneficent Being 
 who cares for the poor and friendless, she 
 softly sung her evening hymn to tlie Virgin ; 
 and if her voice and expression were at this 
 moment more than ever melodious and af- 
 fecting she was totally unconscious that 
 she vvas heard by any being but that power 
 who rules the universe, till the faint tones 
 of a liute;, g^ ntly and fearfully breathing 
 an accooipanim^nt in rhe third verse, sup- 
 denly attracted her attentic —she paused 
 aud looked around. Cecilia was not very
 
 21t 
 
 superstition Sj but she certainly possessed 
 some portion of the enthusiasm and pre- 
 judice of her native country. She threw 
 back the glossy ringlets which shaded her 
 forehead, and her eyes wandered around in 
 awful expectation of beholding some aeriel 
 form of angelic nature. Nought was to 
 "be seen but the bright moon-beam^ now 
 stealing through the shade of the poplars 
 and flowering shrubs^ which waved near 
 the window. Cecilia^ after a momentary 
 pause, recommenced her plaintive invo- 
 cation, but soon again her watchful ear 
 caught the sound of the invisible accom- 
 paniment^ and she now plainly distin- 
 guished that the music proceeded from the 
 room above, and as instantly recollected 
 that it was the room always allotted to the 
 use of strangers, and now occupied by the 
 young hunter, Orazio. 
 
 An involuntary and violent agitation 
 seized her bosotu — ^^she ceased singing, 
 and, in almost breathless attention, listened 
 anxiously to hear the strain, so exquisiiely 
 played, continued ; but all was now silent, 
 save the faint murmur of a distant brook 
 that flowed through the garden, and the me- 
 lancholy fluttering of the agitated poplars. 
 
 Not many minutes, however, did the 
 suspensive emotion of Cecilia remain un- 
 interrupted : a summons to supper relieved 
 her perturbation, and recalled her to re- 
 collection. 
 
 On entering the room where the sig- 
 nora awaited her alone, the recent emotion
 
 which had affected Cecilia was too legibly 
 marked on her features to escape the ob- 
 servation of her mother ; and on being 
 questioned as to the cause of her unusual 
 agitation^ the amiable girl confessed what 
 had disturbed her mind so much ; but she 
 spoke with such timidity, and blushed 
 so deepljj that the signora easily compre- 
 hended how profound and interesting an 
 impression had been made upon the mind of 
 her lovely daughter by the elegant young 
 stranger. 
 
 The signora, however^ did not make any- 
 particular remark on the acknowledgments 
 of Cecilia. She rather treated the matter 
 with indifference^ and spoke no more of 
 the young man during supper ; nor did the 
 involuntarily abashed Cecilia renew the 
 subject. 
 
 After atlending; her mother to her anart- 
 ment to receive the usual nightly maternal 
 benediction, she retired to her own little 
 room^ whither she was attended by Lo- 
 delli ; and this faithful domestic, embol- 
 dened by her lady not having ^expressed 
 any disapprobation other having given her 
 daughter a long account of the robber 
 Angelo Guicciardinij begaii to speak of 
 the young Orazio, and tremblingly de- 
 clared that she feared they should all be 
 murdered in their beds — for father Ascoi- 
 lini had told Guispardo that he vras ahnost 
 convinced that the young hunter was the 
 son of Angelo Quicciardmi, and nothing 
 more than a bandit in disguise. 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 .25 
 
 Cecilia, half angrj at the facility with 
 >yhich the father had propagated his sus- 
 picionSj now declared, with a simplicity 
 aliKost equal to Lodelli's, that it was false, 
 as she knew very well that the young man 
 was an orphan of respectable parents. 
 
 This information quieted, for the pre- 
 sent, all the fears of Lodelli, who next 
 commenced a long detail of Guispardo's 
 remarks on the hunter. 
 
 '" To be sure, Guispardo, as well as 
 herself,'' said Lodelli, '' had always lived 
 in the countr}^ and such humble, simple 
 folks, as they both were, could know very 
 ]iti]e about the airs and manners of great 
 counts and dukes, but by what they had 
 seen of the grandeur of the signora their 
 lady, and by what they had observed of 
 the looks and manners of many of the great 
 noblemen, who sometimes visited the pa- 
 laces and gardens," (which were to be seea 
 from a tall cliff at the foot of the garden, ) 
 "^ they could venture to say that the young 
 hunter had much more the air of a prince 
 than that of a robber.'' 
 
 Lodelli then p'occeded to inform her 
 young lady that the young stranger was 
 much recovered, and was to pay his re- 
 spects to the signora on the morrow at 
 breakfast. 
 
 Cecilia heard this last intimation with a 
 degree of emotion for which she could not 
 account. She was displeased with herself, 
 yet she could not conquer her agitation ; 
 but in the hope of putting an end to it, she
 
 dismissed Lodelli^ and sought to calm her 
 spirits by the exercise of her nightly de- 
 votions, and for some time succeeded ia 
 banishing from her mind all sublunary 
 subjects. As soon^ however, as she prest her 
 pilloW:, all the images which had recently 
 crowded her imagination, returned with 
 treble force. Short and broken slumbers, 
 haunted with the same ideas^ rather wea- 
 ried than refreshed her; and when in the 
 morning she descended to the little break- 
 fast-room she was even moj;e agitated thau 
 when she had joined her mother at supper 
 on the preceding night. Fortunately^ how- 
 ever, no person was in the room when she 
 entered. This circumstance afforded her 
 some relief; and in order to quell all re- 
 mains of perturbation, she sat down to her 
 drawing, and in a few minutes the Father 
 Ascollini made his appearance, followed 
 slowly by Orazio. 
 
 On the opening of the door, Cecilia had 
 not raised her eyes from the sketch on 
 which she was engaged, but the father's 
 exclamation — '' Is it possible the signora 
 is not here!" — caused her to look up^ 
 when the first object she beheld was Ora- 
 zio, who had just entered, and who, on 
 meeting her eye, bowed most respectfully, 
 but with a restrained look of wonder and 
 admiration, which yet gave so animated 
 an expression to his countenance, that Ce- 
 cilia bent her eyes again on her drawing, 
 at the same time faintly returning,' his sa- 
 lutatioO;, while her face was suifused with
 
 28 
 
 the liveliest glow. She looked not up 
 again^ but she felt disgusted with the tone 
 of rude hauteur^ with which the Father 
 Ascollini now addressed the joung man, 
 and desired him to be seated^ and await 
 the appearance of the signora. 
 
 This little circumstance^ bj diverting 
 her attention, restored Cecilia to so much 
 composure, that, in her earnestness to 
 atone for the prior's want of that delicate 
 propriety which shrinks from wounding 
 the feelings of those whose situation claims 
 some consideration, she timidly addressed 
 Orazio, and slightly apologized for her 
 mother's absence. 
 
 For the first time in his life, Orazio 
 found himself incapable of replying. He 
 bowed still lower than he had done be- 
 fore;, but Cecilia had not raised her eyes, 
 and therefore she neither perceived the 
 profound obeisance, nor the deep blush 
 that dyed the manly cheeks of Orazio, and 
 spoke more eloquently than a thousand 
 words could have done. 
 
 The entrance of the signora at length 
 relieved the whole party from some share 
 of their mutual embarrassment. She ad- 
 dressed Orazio with politeness and urba- 
 nity; and if the hesitation and faultering 
 manner in which he replied, afforded no 
 particular proof of his not being deficient 
 in gratitude, it certainly gave a timid tone 
 to his affecting voice, which gave him no 
 small share of increased interest in the 
 mind of Cecilia, who was unconscious of
 
 29 
 
 the attention with which she was listening, 
 till a peevish exclamation from Father 
 Ascollini, who was leaning* over the back 
 of her chair, and observing her progress 
 in the sketch vshich she had begun^ once 
 more recalled her to recollection. 
 
 '' Heigho !" exclaimed the father, 
 '^ what are voii about this morning ? what 
 a horrid curve ! jou have utterly ruined 
 the outline of that tower." 
 
 More vexed and embarrassed than ever 
 she had found herself in her life, Cecilia 
 again felt a burning glow suffuse her 
 cheeks : she threw down the pencil, and 
 walked to the breakfast table. Seated be- 
 side her mother, she became less confused ; 
 but stilL she acquitted herself with less 
 grace than ever she had done at any mo- 
 ment. Accustomed ever to present to the 
 stranger or the visitor the choicest fruits 
 which usually decked the table, Cecilia 
 now hesitated to do so, and sat silent and 
 serious ; nor were the signora, Ascoliini, or 
 Orazio, apparently inclined to infringe on 
 the taciturnity which reigned during this 
 short meal. 
 
 The command which her mother «:ave 
 her to retire at the conclusion of the re- 
 past was the most acceptable one she had 
 ever received. She arose with ill-restrained 
 alacrity ; but as she gracefully withdrew^ 
 her timid eyes involuntarily met the glance 
 of Orazio, whose earnest look^ following 
 her receding form, was mingled with an 
 expression of so much humility and con- 
 cS
 
 so 
 
 ccrn, that it liastencd her flight ; and no 
 sooner had she closed the door, than she 
 flew through the rustic vestibule into the 
 garden, and sought the deepest shade of 
 the embowering arcades, to conceal her 
 confusion from observation. Yet Cecilia 
 Was liot struck with any irresistible pre- 
 possession in favour of Orazio; but the 
 hints and little taunting ill-nature of Ascol- 
 lini had made a deep impression on her 
 mind ; and the interest she involuntarily 
 f6lt for the young man, as unfriended and 
 persecuted, became only the more con- 
 iirmed ; as she dreaded to behave to him 
 in the saole manner as she had treated 
 many of the objects of her mother's bounty, 
 lest her actions should admit of misinter- 
 pietation from A^collini, who might attri- 
 bute to imprudent unreserve the little at- 
 tentions which feeling and benevolent 
 minds delight to pay to those who stand in 
 need of consolation and assistance. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Nearly two hours elapsed ere Cecilia 
 v/as summoned to attend her mother. She 
 found the signora alone, and was informed 
 th.it the Signor Orazio had departed with 
 the Father Ascollini ; the father having 
 again offered him an asylum for a short 
 time in his convent, which offer the young 
 man had now accepted, but not till he had
 
 SI 
 
 iiitrcated the signora's permission to pay 
 his K'espects sometimes at the cottage. 
 
 Cecilia's varying colour spoke plainly 
 that she heard this intelligence with min- 
 gled emotions of regret and pleasure. 
 
 '' You seem much affected^ Cecilia : 
 what am I to suppose ?" said the signora. 
 
 '' What should my dear mamma suppose 
 but the truth ?" answered the artless girl. 
 *" I am sorry that the young signor has 
 been obliged to withdraw from the cot^ 
 without having experienced any of those 
 little kindnesses which are so very accep- 
 table to the afflicted who possess sensi- 
 bility; and yet I rejoice that he is gone, 
 because his circumstances are such as to 
 forbid all very friendly attentions; and 
 that has made me so unhappy and so con- 
 fused, that I really think I never could have 
 the ^rtitude or patience to endure again 
 wh£^t I have experienced from Father As- 
 collini's ill-nature^ even for a week/' 
 
 The Signora di Berlotti folded the inno- 
 cent Cecilia to her bosom, mentally pray- 
 ing that her beloved child might ever pre- 
 serve that captivating iogenuousness which 
 is the best evidence of a virtuous and guile- 
 less heart. 
 
 '' And now^ my Cecilia," said this ten- 
 der parent, '^ we will return to our usual 
 daily occupations; and think of the re- 
 cent interruptions we have received merely 
 as a dream." 
 
 Cecilia wished to think all that had 
 passed merely a dream ; ana she hesitated 
 c 4
 
 32 
 
 not to assure her mother that she would 
 endeavour to do so. The sincerity of this 
 promise she evinced by paying every pos- 
 sible attention to the employments allotted 
 to her for the day, and which the signora 
 had wisely taken care should not be of a 
 >sedentary nature. 
 
 But towards the close of the evening, as 
 Cecilia and her mother sat down to finish 
 the labours of the day with their customary 
 song of devotion, the thoughts of the lovely 
 girl but too quickly reverted to the inter- 
 ruptions which she had experienced on the 
 preceding evening from the stolen accom- 
 paniment which she could not but attri- 
 bute to the young hunter Orazio. She 
 was now, however, about to receive an in- 
 terruption of a different nature ; for 
 scarcely had she prepared to commence the 
 hymn to the Virgin, ere the arrival of a 
 poor pilgrim was announced. 
 
 This stranger had earnestly desired to be 
 admitted to the presence of the signora, 
 and with an urgency which allowed of no 
 refusal. The signora accordingly directed 
 her daughter to retire, and then commanded 
 that the pilgrim should be immediately 
 conducted into the apartment where she 
 was sitting. 
 
 As Cecilia withdrew, she met the pil- 
 grim in the litde vestibule. His figure 
 seemed tall, and would have been com- 
 manding, had not the bend of age deprived 
 him of that air of dignity v/hich beseemed 
 once to have possessed. A few silver locks
 
 23 
 
 strayed from beneath his russet hat, and 
 scarcely shaded his open brow, while <he 
 expression of a inildj yet scrutinizing 
 anxiety sat on his looks. 
 
 As Cecilia passed him^ she inclitu d h< r 
 head with that humble reverence whi(h vir- 
 tuous sensibility ever pays t«> the aged and 
 unfortunate ; and the tone of fervent gra- 
 titude with which the venerable man re- 
 turned his benediction, spoke a sweet re- 
 ward to her guileless heart. 
 
 " Poor man !'' thought \\w lovely gjr] — 
 '^ he may once have enjoyed all ihe allur- 
 ing splendours and all the fallacious plea- 
 sures of wealth. Now, perhaps, he i« (des- 
 titute, and a wanderer." And she ^' w to 
 assist Lodelli in preparing such rrfresh- 
 ments as she hoped might prove the most 
 acceptable to the wearied tra\el]rr 
 
 Cecilia's assiduous attention toihe wants 
 of the poor traveller soon, however, proved 
 unnecessary ; for after having passe d an 
 hour in private with ihe signora, he de- 
 parted. 
 
 That a pilgrim should leave the cott-ige 
 without having been well entertained, was 
 a circumstance which excited the utmost 
 wonder in the minds of the two faith ful 
 domestics of the signora ; but the a kiaze- 
 inent of Cecilia was mingled with the 
 highest degree of terror, when, on enterihg 
 the parlour where her mother sat she 
 found her pale, agitated, and in tears. 
 
 The signora had been writing : several 
 c 5
 
 papers lay scattered on the table, which 
 the lady immediately began to collect, on 
 the entrance of her daughter, to whose ten- 
 der and anxious inquiries as to the cause 
 of her grief and emotion she seemed to 
 have scarcely power to reply. Fervently, 
 however, did this affectionate parent en- 
 fold her beloved child to her beating heart, 
 and wept in silence. Cecilia implored an 
 elucidation of this mysterious sorrov^, and 
 at length the signora said — 
 
 ^' The pilgrim who has just left me was 
 once one of my best-respected friends. His 
 call at my cottage was not to solicit my 
 bounty, but to communicate to me some 
 important circumstances, the knowledge of 
 which has thus deeply affected me. The 
 affairs to which I allude are beyond my 
 Cecilia's comprehension ; and therefore I 
 shall not indulge her with any further ex- 
 planation.'' 
 
 '' Dear mamma,*' said the lovely giri, 
 blushing through her tears, " if your poor 
 Cecilia has shown an imprudent eagerness 
 to learn the occasion of your uneasiness, 
 she has not so acted from motives of pre- 
 sumption, but from the wish of soothing 
 your distress. Be the cause for ever con- 
 fined to your own bosom; but let me in- 
 dulge the hope that it may not long affect 
 you thus.*' 
 
 The signora, now tenderly embracing 
 her child, assured her. that her tears were 
 only drawn forth by the sad remembrance
 
 35 
 
 of past scenes of sorrow^ and that she felt 
 no doubt but that a few hours' repose 
 would effectually calm her mind. 
 
 The Sig'nora di Beflotti's melanrholy 
 smile and faint voice almost contradicted 
 her words. Cecilia perceived that the spi- 
 rits of her mother had receivedv a severe 
 shock ; but she forbore to ex|jtess her 
 thoughts^ lest she slipuld offend her be- 
 loved parent, and therefore endeavoured 
 to assume a cheerfulness most foreign to 
 her heart. 
 
 After an almost untasted supper^, during 
 which the pilgrim was not once mentioned, 
 Cecilia attended her mother to her apart- 
 ment; and -leaving her apparently more 
 composed, retired to her own, not to sleep, 
 but to pass the night in prayers for the 
 happiness and health of her revered parent. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 At an early hour in the morning, the 
 affectionate mother and daughter once 
 more met in the parlour. The signora 
 looked paler than she had even done on the 
 precedii'g uight; but she seemed perfectly 
 calm and collected, and soon after break- 
 fast dispatched a messenger to the priory 
 to the Father Ascollini. 
 
 She then sat down to her escrutoire, and 
 dismissed Cecilia to her embroidering 
 frame. 
 
 c6
 
 36 
 
 Slowly, and for tlie first time reluctantlj, 
 tlid Cecilia obey the command of her mo- 
 ther. The amiable girl fancied she per- 
 ceived ill the looks and manner of the sig- 
 nora much concealed embarrassment and 
 anxiety; and her grief^ at not being per- 
 mitted to share and sooth the sorrows of 
 her parent, was extreme. 
 
 Tears of filial piety and love obscured 
 her sight, as she tremblingly attempted to 
 commence her work ; but she soon found 
 the execution of the task at present so im- 
 practicable, that she desisted, and involun- 
 tarily yielded to the sorrowing emotions 
 that agitated h^T bosom. 
 
 From this state of meditative misery, 
 Cecilia was, however, at length awakened 
 by the sudden entrance of the signora, fol- 
 lowed by the Father Ascollini, whose 
 looks spoke all that chagrin and anger 
 could express, while the air of the signora 
 was seriously calm and collected. 
 
 Cecilia, confused and alarmed at having 
 been found weeping, and in so much emo- 
 tion, started up, and would have retired ; 
 but the Father Ascollini, with all the free- 
 dom that his years and his situation re- 
 specting the family in some degree per- 
 mitted him to use, caught her hand, and 
 drew her back, exclaiming — 
 
 '' What is the occasion of this dear 
 child's tears ? Cecilia, what has occurred 
 to rci.der you thus unhappy ? See, ma- 
 dam," he added, turning abruptly towards 
 the signora — >'[ observe what may be the
 
 37 
 
 event of your dividing your affections. The 
 peace of my dear pupil will be ruined. 
 Accept my advice, signora^ and, as you 
 value all that is dear to you, dismiss every 
 idea of befriending one who must be so 
 unworthyof your regard/' 
 
 Cecilia now gazed on her mother with 
 looks of wonder and inquiry. The signora 
 desired her to approach, placed her beside 
 herself on the sofa, and folding her affec- 
 tionately to her bosom, said — 
 
 " The zeal of the Father Ascollini has 
 hurried an explanation which I intended 
 you should not receive without due pre- 
 paration. But my Cecilia will certainly ac- 
 quiesce in her mother's resolves, without 
 experiencing any of that repining jealousy 
 which the good father so much fears may 
 embitter your peace." 
 
 '' Ah, Father Ascollini ! " exclaimed Ce- 
 cilia, her whole countenance animated 
 with delight at the idea of having an op- 
 portunity of evincing her love and obedi- 
 ence to the best of parents — '' how could 
 you imagine that I could venture to op- 
 pose, even by the slightest look of discon- 
 tent, the wishes of my mother ?'' 
 
 '" I hope you will have no cause to re- 
 pe^nt the indulgence of these extraordinary 
 wishes!'' said the prior, with increasing 
 acrimony, to the signora. 
 
 "^ Oh ! my mother!" cried the lovely 
 ghl, heedless of the displeasure of Ascol- 
 lini, '' permit me to intreatthat you will 
 have the goodness to name your will ; for
 
 38 
 
 I die with impatience to prove to you my 
 fervent submission to your commajids/' - 
 
 '' I have no commands to g'ive, my Ce- 
 cilia/' replied the signora^, her fine features 
 expressing all the tenderest approbation of 
 her daughter — '' I have only to explain to 
 you that a singular and important duty has 
 devolved to me, that of becoming the no- 
 minal parent of a young man^ to whose vir- 
 tues and vices I am personally a stranger, 
 but of whose prmciples I have received the 
 most favourable accounts. Orazio Angelo 
 is " 
 
 *' Orazio Angelo !'" exclaimed Cecilia; 
 and her eyes fell beneath the look of her 
 mother, while her cheeks were suffused 
 with a crimson glow. 
 
 Ascollini uttered a groan of anger, arose, 
 and paced the room in great agitation. The 
 signora continued her explanation. 
 
 '^ Orazio x\ngelo, my Cecilia — he is be- 
 queathed to my care by one whose wishes I 
 am bound by the most sacred ties to revere. 
 Orazio then shall be my adopted son, and 
 Cecilia will consider him as a brother, un- 
 less he should forfeit that endearing title 
 by proving himself less amiable than he has 
 been represented.*' 
 
 The timid, blushing Cecilia was about 
 to reply, hut was prevented by Father As- 
 colHni exclai<ning — 
 
 '^ Signora Berlotti, this is romantic 
 felly, unworthy a pious aad sensible fe- 
 male, and such as a man of my years and 
 office cannot witness without loudly con-
 
 39 
 
 demning. What ! introduce into jour re- 
 tired family a youn<^ man with whose real 
 character and principles you are wholly 
 unacquainted ! Propose him as the bro- 
 ther and coiupanion of this artless, inno- 
 cent child ! Once more I caution jou to 
 beware. Cecilia di Berlotti^ educated in 
 retiremciitj and devoted from infancy to 
 embrace a conventual life, must not have 
 the purity of her mind sullied by an asso- 
 ciation with unknown profligates and 
 wanderers ; or she will be utterly unfitted 
 for the sacred profession to which heaven 
 invites her.'* 
 
 Father Ascollini, now unable to keep 
 Lis indignation within the bounds of pro- 
 priety» retired with precipitation, leaving 
 the Signora di Berlotti extremely agitated, 
 and Cecilia overwhelmed with amazement 
 and terror. 
 
 Some moments of profound silence en- 
 sued. At length Cecilia timidly ventured 
 to inquire whether the father's assertion, 
 that she was intended for a conventual life, 
 was strictly true. 
 
 '' Father Ascollini has not deviated from 
 the truth, ray dear Cecilia ; and this infor- 
 mation may account to you for the inces- 
 sant praises of the life of a nun that conti- 
 nually forms the topic of his conversation. 
 Should you take the veil, you are to re- 
 ceive a handsome portion ; and a conside- 
 rable sum is to be bestowed upon charitable 
 purposes on the day of your profession. 
 To see you thus tranquilly settled has been
 
 40 
 
 the favourite contemplation of Ascolliiii, 
 even from your infancy; and you cannot 
 but recollect how much he has jjeen grati- 
 fied when you have frequently avowed 
 your predilection in favour of those reli- 
 gious institutions^ where young females are 
 so well secured from all the vicissitudes of 
 life/' 
 
 Cecilia turned pale, and her voice fal- 
 tered, as, with a timid and imploring look, 
 she fixed her eyes on the pensive counte- 
 nance of the signora, and said : ^' And you, 
 my dearest mother — you wish me now to 
 commence my noviciate; you wish your Ce- 
 cilia absent, that she may be free from the 
 danger which Father Ascollini fears may 
 await me in the society of the young signor 
 whom you adopt/' 
 
 '' No, ray Cecilia," eagerly replied the 
 Signora di Berlotti — '' Confident in your 
 prudence and ingenuousness, I fear not the 
 influence even of bad example on a heart 
 like thine. Vice must disgust, never se- 
 duce, that being whose soul is susceptible 
 of all the charms of virtue. No, my be- 
 loved child, I cannot part with thee. If 
 in Orazio I find a want of that rectitude 
 and honour which can alone enable him to 
 obtain or fix our esteem, I will instantly 
 withdraw from him my protection ; but as 
 I do not entertuia apprehensions similar to 
 those whi'b p(':plex and enrage Father As- 
 collini, 1 sLtill c:^rtainly follow the present 
 dictates of my Lrart, and receive this young 
 man as — my Cecilia's brother. In less
 
 41 
 
 than a months I hope he will be presented 
 with a commission in the Venetian army ; 
 and, of course, we shall then be freed from 
 all trouble on his account. But I must 
 now prepare to receive my young protege^ 
 whom I have engaged to dine with us to- 
 day. He will continue to sleep at the con- 
 veiitj while he remains in this part of the 
 country; but his days v/ ill be spent chiefly 
 in the cottage.'* 
 
 The signora now arose^ and kissing the 
 fair forehead of her daughter^ withdrew, 
 leaving Cecilia agitated with a thousand 
 varying feelings. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 A SUMMONS to attend her mother in her 
 chamber soon interrupted the thoughts of 
 Cecilia. The moment she appeared before 
 the signora^ she received an order to hasten 
 to arrange her dress, as the Father Ascol- 
 lini^ Orazio, and a stranger, were almost 
 momentarily expected. 
 
 Cecilia hastened to obey this command. 
 Her simple robe and luxuriant tresses were 
 soon adjusted. Never had she looked so 
 lovely as when she returned to the apart- 
 ment of her mother, and was by her led 
 into the parlour to receive the expected 
 guests. 
 
 A few moments only elapsed ere they 
 arrived.
 
 42 
 
 Ascollini entered first, followed by the 
 pilgrim who, on the preceding night, had 
 visited the signora ; while, slowly in the 
 rear, advanced the graceful form of the 
 young Orazio. 
 
 The une.\pected appearance of the pil- 
 grim happily checked the embarrassing 
 emotions of Cecilia. The nobility of his 
 air, the respect which Ascollini paid him, 
 and the dignity with which he presented 
 Orazio to the signora and herself, were 
 circumstances which engaged the whole 
 attention of Cecilia, who timidly gazed 
 upon him with a look of mingled reverence 
 and curiosity. 
 
 '' To your benignant and n^aternal care 
 I once more recommend this youth, Signora 
 di Berlotti," said the pilgrim, in a tone of 
 softened seriousness. '' His further claims 
 to your kindness must be fixed by his own 
 merits. Should he prove unworthy of the 
 sacrifices you are making in regard to his 
 parents, I cannot wish him a severer pu- 
 nishment than the loss of your esteem.'* 
 
 '' And you, young lady," continued the 
 stranger, addressing Cecilia with parental 
 gentleness of manner, *^in permitting Ora- 
 zio Angelo to call you sister, ha.ve already 
 conferred on him a privilege, the value of 
 which should be to him inestimable.'' 
 
 The stranger spoke with much emotion, 
 yet the expression of his feelings appeared 
 faint, when compared with the almost 
 overwhelming agitation which Orazio be- 
 trayed. Alternately pale or glowing^ his
 
 43 
 
 expressive features spoke the most lively 
 sensibility of soul^ \Yhile^ bending lowly 
 over the hand which the signora presented 
 to him, and raising it respectfully to his 
 lips, he said, in a voice scarcely audible— 
 
 '^ Could the recollection of this moment 
 be ever obliterated from my heart, I should 
 then indeed cease to be susceptible of every 
 sentiment which the liveliest gratitude and 
 the most profound veneration can inspire/' 
 And now Orazio turned his dark expressive 
 eyes on Cecilia; but to her he spoke not^ 
 yet his looks evinced all the tenderness^ 
 admiration^ and respect, that seemed to 
 animate his heart. 
 
 '' And you. Father Ascollini," said the 
 stranger, addressing the prior with an air 
 of impressive gravit}, '^ you, I imagine^, 
 must now be perfectly sensible that the 
 signora, in the present instance, acts in a 
 manner perfectly consistent with her usual 
 prudence and benig-nitv/' 
 
 '^ I am conviiiced, signor, that you 
 would not recommend a line of conduct to 
 this lady, which would not be exactly 
 proper for her to follow." 
 
 Thus spoke Ascollini, but his manner 
 was so evidently constrained, that even Ce- 
 cilia perceived how ill his words and in- 
 ternal sentiments corresponded, 
 
 Guispardo now announcing that dinner 
 waited, put an end to all further conver- 
 sation, and the little party immediately 
 obeyed the summons i 
 
 Silence, embarrassment, and constraint^
 
 44 
 
 still, however, marked the deportment of 
 the prior, while the sigriora and the pil- 
 grirti entered into a desultory conversation, 
 in which they soon induced Orazio and 
 Cecilia to join, thus freein;^ the young 
 people from some portion of the timid re- 
 straint with which they seemed to view 
 each other. 
 
 At the conclusion of the meal, tlie sig- 
 nora led the way into the apartment pecu- 
 liarly belonging to Cecilia. Her music, 
 her drawing, the elegant embroidery, were 
 but slightly noticed by the pilgrim, whose 
 whole attention seemed fixed on the con- 
 tents of her small but well selected library, 
 which Ascoiiini most assiduously displayed, 
 omitting not to inform the stranger that 
 the books of the young signora had been 
 chiefly chosen by himself; and could the 
 prior have felt much gratification from any 
 compliment paid to him by the pilgrim, 
 he might now have exulted in the delicate 
 but animated commendations which were 
 lavished on the good taste and strict mo- 
 rality which he had evinced in his careful 
 superintendence of his young pupil's men- 
 tal studies. 
 
 While the Father Ascoiiini and the 
 stranger were thus engaged, the signora 
 entered into conversation with Orazio re- 
 lative to his future prospects, and men- 
 tioned, as a matter of course, his entering 
 the army in about a month. This subject, 
 Iiowever, on which the young man spoke 
 with all the ardour and animation of an
 
 45 
 
 heroic spirit, was soon interrupted by the 
 pilgrim, who, after complimenting the 
 signora on the felicity she enjoyed in the 
 amiable qualities of her daughter, ex- 
 pressed many regrets at being under the 
 necessity of almost immediately departing. 
 He then advanced towards Cecilia, and 
 presented to her a small casket, requesting 
 her to wear the few ornaments it contained 
 in remembrance of the giver, who felt for 
 her sentiments more tender than he could 
 express. 
 
 The looks of the pilgrim so fully con- 
 firmed his words — so iiiuch gentleness and 
 placid affection beamed from his eyes as 
 he spoke, that Cecilia, much affected by 
 his manner, scarcely needed the approving 
 glance of her mother to induce her to ac- 
 cept a gift, no otherwise valuable to her 
 than as the testimonial of the regard of one 
 whose dignified and venerable appearance 
 deeply interested her. 
 
 The stranger now bade adieu, and, ac- 
 companied by Orazio, who, he said, would 
 attend him to a short distance from the 
 cottage, departed. 
 
 The moment they were gone, Cecilia, 
 on an intimation from her mother, sat down 
 to her embroidery, w bile the signora with 
 an air of indifference, but too evidently 
 affected, attempted to commence a conver- 
 sation on unimportant concerns with As- 
 coUini, who, after briefly replying, abruptly 
 said — " Are you certain, madanij that this
 
 46 
 
 pilgrim is really a personage of noble 
 birth?'' 
 
 '" YeS;, I am well convinced that he is 
 
 "^ And how can he have acquired such 
 an interest for a jouth^ who has never till 
 now quitted the Alpine solitudes in which 
 he has been educated ?" 
 
 '' How frequently. Father Ascollini," 
 said the signora, in a tone fully indicative 
 of reserve and vexation, '' how frequently 
 have I declared to you the impossibility of 
 satisfying your curiosity and doubts ? Once 
 more let me intreat you to spare me on this 
 subject ; and rest assured, that the mo- 
 ment when I perceive any thing in this 
 affair which my conscience should con- 
 demn, I will instantly pursue another line 
 of conduct. In the meanwhile the young 
 Orazio will be chieflv under your own eye, 
 and " ^ . \ 
 
 '' But what advantage shall I derive 
 from that circumstance, while he is enve- 
 loped in so much mystery ?" said the prior 
 peevishly. '' This stranger, whom you 
 aver to be a nobleman of high rank, came 
 to my convent last night : he entreated 
 entertainment for the night. I hospitably 
 admitted him : he desired to see the young 
 hunter. Surprised as I was at this re- 
 quest, I instantly ordered the young man 
 to be summoned. The moment the stranger 
 beheld him, he became extremely agitated 
 • — muttered something about likeness and
 
 47 
 
 noble air, and embraced the youth, who, 
 I believe^ had never before beheld him_, 
 and was as much agitated by the conduct 
 of the visitor, as I was surprised myself; 
 and theoj when the emotion of both had a 
 little subsided, this nobleman requested to 
 be left alone with Orazio. 1 consented, 
 and they were closeted together all the 
 night — I, it seems, was not worthy of the 
 least confidence. In the morning, indeed, 
 your friend deigned to enter into a long 
 argument with me respecting your adop- 
 tion of the voung man, informed me that 
 he had already visited you, and then con- 
 descended to assure me that no evil was 
 likely to ensue from such a step ; and 
 pledged his honour for the propriety of 
 Orazio's conduct towards both you and 
 myself. He then offered me a handsome 
 present for the attentions which the youth 
 has received at my convent. This, with 
 much difficulty, I accepted ; and this is 
 all I am informed of respectitig the affair.'' 
 
 The re-eutrance of Orazio himself now 
 checked the volubility of Father Ascollini, 
 who, however, expressed some surprise at 
 the shortness of his absence. 
 
 The young man declared that his friend 
 would not permit his attendance beyond 
 the lime grove, near the foot of the hill. 
 Traces of agitation were visible on his fine 
 features; but be evidently essayed to con- 
 quer his feelings ; and as he was silent 
 respecting his parting with the pilgrim.
 
 48 
 
 neither the signora nor AscoUini reverted 
 any further to the circumstance. 
 
 After a short pause, a general conversa- 
 tion ensued^ in w^hich Orazio displajed a 
 well cultivated understanding, good sense, 
 talents, and above all, the «iost engaging, 
 yet manly modesty. 
 
 The Signora di Berlotti was mentally 
 charmed with the estimable qualities which 
 appeared to adorn this interesting youth : 
 even Ascollini was pleased, Mhile Cecilia, 
 gradually resuming all the graces of un- 
 affected ingenuousness and simplicity, con- 
 versed with all the artless candour of her 
 nature, and soon began to consider her 
 new brother as a most acceptable acqui- 
 sition to their society. 
 
 The evening passed rapidly. Orazio's 
 taste for and knowledge of music and 
 drawing were soon discovered to exceed 
 even those of Cecilia. Mutual talent, vir- 
 tue, and sensibility, seemed, apparent in 
 each ; and when the prior and his young 
 companion took their leave for the night, 
 each soothed their secret regrets with the 
 pleasing hope that the following morning 
 was to re-unite the happy party. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Soon after the departure of Father As- 
 collini and Orazio, the ladies retired to
 
 49- 
 
 repose. Fain would Cecilia have Iiazarded 
 some timid enquiries respecting* the pil- 
 grimj' and Orazio's unexpected reception 
 in the cottage, but the serious looks of her 
 mother had repelled her wishes, and Ce- 
 cilia retired to the solitude of her own lit- 
 tle room to compose her spirits bj the 
 uever-failing influence of devotion. 
 
 Sleep, serene and soft, visited her pil- 
 low; and the morning's dawn beheld her 
 glowing with the roseat tints of health and 
 peace. 
 
 The sun had not risen when she arose. 
 The first object that her e>es encountered' 
 was the casket given her by the pilgrim. 
 She had, on the preceding evening, neg- 
 lected to examine its contents ; she now 
 eagerly opened it, and found within a sn^all 
 diamond cross suspended from a string o^' 
 pearls, and a pair of curiously formed 
 pearl bracelets willi diamoiid clasps. 
 
 The elegance of this present struck her 
 with extreme surprfse. Flitherto Cecilia 
 had never worn any ornament but the sim- 
 ple ivory cross that hung on her bosom, or 
 the blooming flowers which she sometimes 
 'mingled in the shining tresses of her luxu- 
 riant hair, while even her \vhole dress was 
 little superior to that of the peasant girls 
 who inhabited the borders of the lake. 
 The pilgrim's request, that she would 
 wear the jewels contahied in the casket, 
 now appeared to her as the most singular 
 inconsistency, and she felt the utmost em- 
 barrassment on recollecting that she had 
 
 TOL. I. D
 
 50 
 
 promised to wear tliem. To her mother, 
 at length, she resolved to apply imme- 
 diately on the subject; but as the signora 
 had not yet risen, Cecilia was compelled 
 to exert her patience, and she descended 
 to the garden to assist in the labours of 
 Lodelli, who was already busily employed 
 in attending to some beautiful flowers 
 which had been injured by an accident on 
 the preceding day. 
 
 Cecilia had not been long in the garden, 
 when Orazio made his appearance. A 
 mutual blush betrajed the emotion of each 
 as tht-y met. Soon, however, this embar- 
 rassment ceased : Orazio joined in the oc- 
 cupation of Cecilia and Lodelli, the latter 
 of whom soon declared that the young 
 signor had saved them a world of trouble, 
 as he had done more in a few minutes, 
 than she could have done in an hour. 
 
 Orazio, indeed, took effectual care that 
 Cecilia's share of the task should be light, 
 and if his look was, at some moments, 
 more animated and tender than the looks 
 of brothers usually are, yet Cecilia's ti- 
 mid eyes so seldom encountered his, that 
 she perceived not the delight and agitation 
 which the guijeless naivete of her manners 
 inspired, ' ' ^ 
 
 An hour appeared but a moment in the 
 present estimation of Orazio, who could 
 not believe that time had ilown so swiftly, 
 when Lodtilli, suddenly seiziug her work, 
 declared thai she nuisl hasten in to prepare 
 breakfast, as the signora might now be ex-
 
 ^1 
 
 o 
 
 pec ted down every mooient. The absence 
 of Lodelli threw an involuntary restraint 
 on both Orazio and Cecilia : for a few mo- 
 ments neither spoke. Cecilia employed 
 herself more earnestly^ while Orazio began 
 to make a thousand little errors in arrang- 
 ing the trellis work. 
 
 Cecilia soon became equally confused — 
 '' We can do nothing without Lodelli,*' 
 said she, and walked a few paces away. 
 -Orazio likewise desisted, and slowly 
 followed her steps. — The walk they had 
 entered was broad/ and overarched by lux- 
 uriant myrtles : Cecilia would have gone 
 round another way to the house, but she 
 perceived the sign#ra at the upper ex- 
 tremity of the walk they had entered^ and 
 she now hastened to meet her mother. 
 
 The signora received Orazio with the 
 phrased smile of maternal welcome. Ce- 
 cilia, sanctioned by her presence, again 
 displayed all the artless animation of her 
 disposition ; and even the watchful glances 
 of Father Ascollini, who joined the party- 
 soon after breakfast, began to lose some of 
 their embarrassing eftects. 
 
 Day after day now fled with a rapidity 
 before unknown at the cottage. Orazio, 
 an almost constant inmate, became every 
 liour more dear to the signora. The alnsost 
 filial reverence and airi^clioii which app( av- 
 ed in even his slightest Fooks and actir.n?, 
 the delicate and fraternal regard with wliit li 
 he behaved to Cecilia, even while it was 
 
 evident that he idolized her. 2:ave so fa 
 J, 2 mmR§fTY OF
 
 52 
 
 vourable an opinion of his principles and 
 self-denial^ that, at length, Ascollini was 
 coinpeliecj to acknowledge to the signora 
 "that her adopted son was a very extraordi- 
 nary young man, but still he invariably 
 declared^ that the result of his stay at the 
 cottage must inevitably prove destructive 
 to the happiness of Cecilia In reply to 
 this, the signora usually said — '' It is im- 
 possible that Cecilia should conduct her- 
 self as she does, and yet feel any sentiment 
 for this young man more tender than sister- 
 ly affection. She has been taught to call 
 him brother : she does so. She is unem- 
 barrassed in his presence — attends to her 
 different occupations, and your lessons, 
 with even more than her accustomed ear- 
 nestness, and — '' 
 
 The prior shook his head, and,^ inter- 
 ruptijig the signora, said — 
 
 '' And 'tis this very earnest attention 
 which Cecilia gives to all her employments, 
 which convinces me that she already feels 
 her danger, if you do not." 
 
 Stil!^ however, the signora seemed insen- 
 sible to all the representations of Ascollini ; 
 and Orazio continued to assist in the lessons 
 and some of the employments of Cecilia, 
 who had, indeed, as the prior very justly 
 foretold, imbibed for her nominal brother 
 sentinunts'which neither time nor circum- 
 stances could wholly obliterate from her 
 heart. Of this, however, she was not yet 
 conscious. The apparently noble disposi- 
 tion^ amiable manners^ and interesting si-
 
 53 
 
 tuation of Orazio, were so many claims on 
 her regard and esteem, that, in beholding 
 him with'the most artless affection and con- 
 cern, slie imas^ined she was fulfilling only 
 those duties of charity and love, which re- 
 ligion and viftue enjoins. 
 
 , It was true, she condemned herself for 
 thinking so much about her nominal bro- 
 ther, and therefore deyoted the most unre- 
 mitted assid'.iity to her studies and domes- 
 tic concerns ; and if the idea of him but too 
 frequently intruded on her mind during his 
 short absences^ she seldom failed to en- 
 deavour to give double attention to her 
 tasks^ consoling herself with the reflexion 
 that, when at the close of evening, they 
 should, in the presencx} of the signora, join 
 in the harmonious chaunts and hymns of 
 thanksgiving for the blessings of the day, 
 she should then always find opportunities 
 of proving to him that^ in her strict atten- 
 tion to her employment, she had not de- 
 signed to treat him with neglect or reserve. 
 And while Cecilia with such artless so- 
 phistry soothed the growing affection which 
 was fast entwining wreaths of thorns around 
 her hearts Orazio seemed to have imbibed 
 for her a passion deep and ardent^ yet ap- 
 parently pure as her own; for although 
 the real state of his feelings was evident 
 to every eye, yet^to Cecilia herself he be- 
 haved with all the delicate tenderness 6f 
 fraternal affection. 
 
 d3
 
 54 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 About a fortnight was now passed bj 
 the society at the cottage in all the mingled 
 Jojs and pains to which the feelings of 
 each individual gave rise. Ascollini fretted 
 and repined, as he watched the stealing 
 glances of Orazio ; the signora seemed pen- 
 sive and observant, and the innocent Ce- 
 cilia, unconscious of the state of her own 
 heart, yielded herself up to the delight of 
 loving Orazio, 'till a circumstance occurred 
 which, by informing her in part of the 
 truth, overwhelmed her wnth confusion. 
 
 One night as she was preparing to retire 
 fo repose, in looking for some trifling ar- 
 ticle which she wanted, she perceived the 
 casket of jewels which the pilgrim had 
 given her, lying where she had placed it 
 on the morning when she had intended to 
 consult her mother as^ to the impropriety of 
 her wearing such ornaments. Blushing 
 at the conviction of how^ much her mind 
 must have been pre-occupied when she 
 could so long have neglected to speak to 
 the signora on the subject, she now thought- 
 fully unclosed the casket, when, to her in- 
 finite surprise, she found a most singalar 
 addition to its contents, and this was a 
 small billet closely folded. She opened it, 
 and) with the utmost alarm and confusion, 
 read the following lines. — 
 
 '' Cecilia^ jou love^ and Orazio Angelo
 
 is the object of your sudden attachment. — » 
 Learn that the possessor of your secret is 
 
 AnGELO GuiCCIARDINl/* 
 
 The billet fell from the trembling hands 
 of Cecilia: — faintly she pronounced '* the 
 robber Anoelo!'' and sunk, nearlv faint- 
 ing, on her couch. ^Yhen she recovered 
 it was only (o feel in e?icess all the con- 
 trariety of emotions the most overwhelm- 
 ing. Love! was it possible that she 
 
 could love Orazio Angelo, otherwise than 
 as a sister should ? — Cecilia trembled more 
 violently when her heart replied, that the 
 accusation of Guicciardini was true. Her 
 ideas now became vague and indistinct. 
 In every other dilemma^ Cecilia had been 
 ever accustomed to unbosom the feelings 
 of her heart to her beloved parent; Ihc 
 timid delicacy of her disposition caused 
 her instantly to reject such a resource in 
 the present instance^ and her confusion and 
 distress had deprived her almost ©f strength 
 to resist the agitation that overpowered 
 her. 7 
 
 The mind of Cecilia was sensible and 
 well informed ; but she possessed a sensi- 
 bility of the most dangerous nature. Sus- 
 ceptible of every emotion which religion 
 and virtue did not condemn^ she had been 
 ever inclined to yield unresistii)gly to the 
 impulses of a pure and ingenuous heart; 
 and unhappily the signora^ finding her 
 own griefs soothed^ and her feelings in- 
 terested by the unfeigned and warm parti- 
 cipation of her sorrows, which Cecilia had 
 d4
 
 56 
 
 ever eviuced/liad neglected to clieck the 
 prof^ress of a propensity which might prove 
 so fatal to the peace of her daughter. In 
 extenuation of this error it may, however, 
 be urged that the signora considered that 
 the conventual life to which Cecilia was 
 to be devoted, could afford no opportunities 
 for the indulgence of excessive sensibility. 
 The recent unexpected circumstances had 
 now, however, proved how futile and vain 
 are the foresights and plans of human 
 wisdom. 
 
 Nearly Imlf an hour elapsed ere Cecilia 
 recovered in some degree from the confu- 
 sion and»distrcss into which the billet of the 
 robber Angelo had phmged her, and vvhen 
 she was even more composed, she could not 
 so far tranquilliz-e her spirits as to be capa- 
 ble of devotion, or of retiring to rest. 
 
 Slowly, and with trembling limbs, she 
 crept to the small latticed window of her 
 room ; the mild air of the summer night, 
 perfumed with a thousand sweets, gently 
 agitated the jessamine that shaded the 
 window. The pale beams of a rising moon 
 rendered distinguishable the lofty summits 
 of the Alps, and threw a thousand varied 
 shades over the wooded heights and luxu- 
 riant vineyards ; while glistening in a long 
 expanded line, appeared part of the Lago 
 Maggiore. 
 
 Cecilia's eye no longer rested on the 
 prospect with delight : self approbation 
 was now a stranger to her bosom, and all 
 the scenes which had been dear to her heart
 
 57 
 
 from the earliest dawn of youth, now ap- 
 peared cheerless and confused. 
 
 Too much affected to experience the re- 
 lief which tears usually afford, she felt an 
 oppressive weight impede her respiration. 
 She unclosed the lattice, yet the soft breeze 
 seemed to chill her soul. Faint, and at in- 
 tervals scarcely distinct, the sound of the 
 distant priory bell, chiming the hdyr of 
 midnight prayer, reverberated along the 
 side of the hill. It sounded to Cecilia as 
 the knell of death: undefined and fearful 
 presentiments of evil and danger assailed 
 her harassed mind. She started up, and, 
 with quick and light steps, stole softly to 
 the door of her mother's apartment. All 
 was silent within. She tremblingly re- 
 treatedj ashamed that the yiolence of her 
 imaginary fears had urged lier to disturb 
 the repose of her mother. Once more she 
 re-entered her own apartment ; but it was 
 dark and comfortless. During her short 
 absence her night lamp had expired, and 
 the feeble rays of the moon, scarcely pene- 
 trating the embowering jessamine that 
 straved around the window, gave a mourn- 
 fuliy indistinct outline to the room, which 
 impressed her mind with additional emo- 
 tion. 
 
 Incapable of repose, and in the hope of 
 tranquillizing, in some measure, her unusu- 
 ally disturbed spirits, she softly descended 
 the stairs, and entered the garden. The 
 fragrant odour of innumerable shrubs and 
 flowers filled the air with balmy sweet- 
 d5
 
 58 
 
 ness, and soonthe soothing influence of the 
 perfumed atmosphere;, and the starrj splen- 
 dours of the heavens, restored her to a de- 
 gree of composure ; but still a mournful 
 sadness and depression remained on her 
 heart, and while, with softened feelings, 
 she felt the tears flow fast from her ejes^ 
 she half resigned herself to the idea that 
 her *desliny had decreed her the misery 
 of too tenderly regarding the only being 
 whom her duty forbade her to think of. 
 
 In this moment, the recollection that 
 Ascollini had once declared that she was 
 intended to take the veil recurred. The 
 signora had confirmed the assertion. An 
 asylum was then open to her — an asylum 
 where she might learn, by unceasing care 
 and repentance, to eradicate those senti- 
 ments from her soul, which she had so in- 
 voluntarily, and so unhappily imbibed. 
 The mind of Cecilia now embraced with 
 avidity the thought of religious seclusion. 
 Enthusiastic and inexperienced, she in- 
 stantly adopted the belief, that when she 
 had once received the veil, she should for 
 ever be freed from the agonizing misery of 
 loving one, whom, she imagiiied, it was 
 obvious her mother would not approve, as 
 she had been repeatedly desired by her to 
 consider Orazio as a brother. 
 
 '' If I shall not be happy after all ; if 
 I should be so unfortunate as to think too 
 Riueh of Orazio Angelo ; yet, when I am 
 concealed in the solitude of the cloister, my 
 beloved mother will not behold my unhap-
 
 59 
 
 piness:'' said Cecilia, unconscioiusly. ''I 
 shall also be free from the persecuting and 
 prying notice of that terrible Guicciardini ; 
 and my tutor AscoUini will then continully 
 soothe the regrets of my mother for my 
 absence, by assurances that my heart is de- 
 voted to heaven, and not to Orazio Angelo/* 
 And now Cecilia sighed deeply, and start- 
 ing from the rustic bench on which she had 
 been seated, beard her sigh re-echoed, and, 
 in the next moment, beheld the gigantic 
 figure of the robber Angelo at her side. 
 Powerless to shriek, she sunk senseless at 
 his feet. 
 
 The reviving chill of water^ thrown on 
 her pallid features, recalled her to life, but 
 with reanimation, returned the idea of An- 
 gelo Guicciardini. Not daring to unclose 
 her eyes, lest they should encounter the 
 form of one so terrific to her imagination, 
 she struggled to free herself from the en- 
 circling arm which supported her; but 
 she was almost instantly nearly again de- 
 prived of sense, by hearing the voice of 
 Orazio, who, in a tone expressive of the 
 deepest emotion, whispered, '' My Cecilia, 
 — my sister, look up. What do you fear ? 
 ""Tis Orazio — 'tis your brother, who im- 
 plores you to save him the anguish of be- 
 holding you thus !'' 
 
 Cecilia faintly pronounced his name, and 
 making another effort to disengage herself, 
 sunk on the bench, yet was still supported 
 by Orazio, who appeared to be as much 
 ugitated as the object of his care.
 
 60 
 
 *' 01), why are you here?'* he faulter- 
 inglj said. '' To what circumstance am I 
 to impute the unexpected happiness of see- 
 ing you at such a moment ? Do you often 
 walk here alone, Cecilia?" 
 
 '' No/' replied the trembling girl^ fear- 
 ful of betraying by her emotion the secret 
 uneasiness which had driven her from re- 
 pose ; and instantly endeavouring to evade 
 further enquiry, she added, '^ But where 
 is the>oZ?&C7' Angelo?'' 
 
 *^' Angelo I Angelo Guicciardini?'^ said 
 Orazio, in a low and tremulous tone. 
 
 ^^ Yes: was he not ihere but a few 
 iiToments since ? Oh ! how his appearance 
 terrified me ! Did he fly at your approach ? 
 But wherefore are you here ? 
 
 ■'^ I tremble to answer your question, 
 Cecilia," returned Orazio, '' for my reply 
 must render me a thousand times more 
 mysterious, and an object of more suspicion 
 than ever. I am come, — " and his voice 
 becajne almost inarticulate. *' I came 
 to take a last, a farewel glance of this 
 cottage : this abode, which will henceforth 
 contain all tliat I most value on earth. 
 A circumstance of the most unexpected 
 nature compels me to flee from this Ci)untry 
 with the utmost precipitation. I shall ap- 
 pear, both isd yourself and your tutor, as 
 the most ungrateful and worthless of human 
 beings. Yet, oh, Cecilia ! do not you 
 judge thus of me : time may unfold the 
 hidden causes which urge me to acts the 
 most repugnant to my soul; and till then I
 
 61 
 
 will plead no further extenuation of my 
 conduct/* 
 
 A loud whistle now sounded from the 
 gleu beneath. 
 
 Orazio started up. He clasped the 
 trembling hands of Cecilia in his ; and, in 
 convulsed and hurried accents, said — 
 
 '' I must be gone — oh, Cecilia! I will 
 not, dare not tell you what I suffer; but, 
 I conjure, I implore you, to judge not 
 from appearances. Whatever is my hap* 
 less destiny, I shall bear with me through 
 life; and, in death, your image. It is im- 
 pressed on my heart in colours indelible; 
 and the name of Cecilia shall ever be to me 
 the signal to act with courage and reso- 
 lution : to endure with fortitude, and to 
 conquer or die in the cause which I have un- 
 dertaken. Adieu, my beloved, my sister!*' 
 
 Half timid, half ardently, he once ven- 
 tured to enfold the lovely form of Cecilia 
 to his agitated bosom : again repeated her 
 name in a tone the most tender and impas- 
 sioned ; and then fled, with precipitation, 
 amid the o'erhanging chesnut wood, whose 
 shadowy branches formed a canopy over 
 the seat on which, Cecilia, scarcely alive, 
 reclined. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 When the unhappy girl recovered some 
 share of recollection, she gazed around her.
 
 62 
 
 as if awakening from a frightful slumber. 
 The rustling of the leaves above her head;, 
 the !oi)g, dark shadows stretched across the 
 pathj became objects of alarm to her dis- 
 ordered mind ; and she dared not to move^ 
 lest the sound of her footstep should rccal 
 the robber Angelo^ or Orazio. That she 
 had seen the former^ she felt too truly con- 
 vinced ; the figure of Angelo was too strik- 
 ingly impressive to be mistaken had she 
 even beheld him in the shaile ; but the 
 moonlight^ beaming on his dark features 
 and martial form, had revealed him fully 
 to her astonished sight. The sigh which she 
 had heard, as he staj:ted on her view, the 
 looks he had bent on her, were never to be 
 forgotten. The almost instantaneous insen- 
 sibility which had succeeded,had not effaced 
 the impression from her mind ; and even 
 the unexpected appearance of Orazio had 
 only contributed to heighten her horror 
 and distress, as it suggested the dreadful 
 idea that he had been in company with the 
 robber. Reflection could not remove this 
 harrowing suspicion. He had avowed that 
 he v^^as flying from the country, but had 
 not given any explanation of the circum- 
 stances which induced him to resolve on 
 such an act ; and hs expression that '' hid- 
 den causes urged him to acts the most re- 
 pUjiD int to bis -soul/' together with the 
 loud wliistle that had sumnionedhim away, 
 attached an idr^a of art and guilt to his 
 conduct, which not even the remembrance 
 of hisTsolemn manner of entreatine: her not
 
 63 
 
 fo judge by appearances^ could banish from 
 the mind of Cecilia. 
 
 Quicklythese reflections hurried through 
 the soul of the afflicted girl ; but she gradu- 
 ally regained sufficient strength to be capable 
 of rising, and of walking towards the cot- 
 tage ; which, at lengthy she reached. The 
 door was open, as she had left it. Cauti- 
 ously she stole back to her chamber. She 
 entered the room with a sensation ef shud- 
 dering horror at the reflection of the scene 
 in which she had been engaged since she 
 quitted it, while the remembrance of the 
 sentiments which she had felt for Orazio 
 but scarcely more than an hour back, and 
 those of dread and anguish^ which his 
 name now inspired, filled her bosom with 
 unutterable shame and grief. 
 
 Humiliated and oppressed by sorrow, she 
 knelt and implored the protection and aid 
 of that gracious power to whom her earliest 
 hopes were raised. She soon became more 
 calm, but yet she found it impossible to 
 sleep ; and when the sun, risen high above 
 the horizon, and the busy steps ofLodelli, 
 gave her the usual signal for rising, she 
 tremblingly descended to the lower apart- 
 ments, looking the pale image of grief. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 ALTHOUGH cheerful, and actively intent 
 on her cmpioymexits^Lodelli had yet seldom
 
 64 
 
 any attention for any thing else when her 
 beloved young lady was present; and the 
 moment this faithful servant cast her eyes 
 on the languid frame, and altered counte- 
 nance of Cecilia, she almost shrieked with 
 affright, while, starting back, she begged 
 to know what was the matter with her dear 
 young signora. 
 
 Cecilia replied evasively, but truly, that 
 she felt herself very ill. 
 
 The young woman shook her head.! — 
 *' Ah, my dear young lady, this is not the 
 way you used to look whenever you was 
 ill : you used to look pale, indeed, but 
 then you would smile so sweetly> and seem 
 so composed and resigned, and only looked- 
 unhappy when you thought your mamma^ 
 or your poor servants, grieved about you ; 
 but now, Santa Virgine, now your eyes are 
 red and heavy — your looks aie almost wild^ 
 and so doleful, that one might almost vow 
 you bad seen or heard something quite 
 horrid/* *^ Horrid, indeed!" involuntarily 
 murmured Celilia, and mechanically began 
 to assist Lodelli in arranging the breakfast. 
 
 '' O, Dio mio 1" exclaimed the faithful 
 Lodelli, '^ what can have happened ta 
 fright you thus, my dear young lady?" 
 The dismayed look, and terrified voice in 
 which Lodelli spoke, recalled Cecilia to 
 recollection ; and, uneasy at having be- 
 trayed the excess of the distress which she 
 caused this affectionate being, the ami-
 
 65 
 
 able girl attempted to smile, while she de- 
 clared^ she had not been alarmed by any 
 supernatural appearance. 
 
 The slow footstep of the sig-nora was now 
 heard descending the stairs. Cecilia trem- 
 bled, and the death-like paleness of her 
 countenance increased. She heard her mo- 
 ther call on her name; she could not reply, 
 and had scarcely power to move. 
 
 Lode! I i again looked at her aghast, and 
 instantly recollecting how much the sig- 
 nora might be alarmed, by the appearance 
 of her daughter, hastened to the parlour, 
 whither her lady had gone, and was just 
 commencing an hesitating account of her 
 young lady's situation, when Father Asco- 
 lini rushed into the room, exclaiming — 
 
 '' Where is Cecilia ? where is the dear 
 child? oh that young bandit!" And the 
 prior looked around with the wildest eagerc 
 ness, while the SIgnora di Berlotti, motion- 
 less with surprize and dread, seemed inca- 
 pable of enquiring into the cause of the 
 Father's alarm. 
 
 " Where is she, I demand ?'* again cried 
 Ascollinij and instantly CecilicV appeared* 
 Pale, trembling, and with unequal steps, 
 she tottered towards her mother, and sunk^ 
 nearly senseless, on her bosom. 
 
 The Signora di Berlotti did not faint : 
 the horror and alarm of the moment seemed 
 to inspire her with power to resist the over- 
 whelming feelings which would, at any 
 other period, have deprived her of sense. 
 
 With a fixed look, , she regarded the
 
 66 
 
 dosed eyes of Cecilia, while father Ascolliui 
 raved for restoratives for the lovely girl, 
 and altcriiately execrated the name of 
 Orazu) 
 
 In a few moments Cecilia re-opened her 
 eyes : she raised her languid glance to the 
 face of her mother. 
 
 '' Cecilia, my Cecilia/' cried the affec- 
 tionate parent, '' thou art innocent : thy 
 look speaks all the purity of thy soul.'* 
 
 Cecilia hjd her face again in the bosom 
 of her mother, while, in low and trembling 
 accents, she said — 
 
 '' I did not meet him intentionally.'* 
 
 '' Meet him! meet whom?'* cried the 
 signora and Ascoilini at the same moment. 
 
 Cecilia shuddered ; deep sighs spoke the 
 torture of her heart. 
 
 '' Explain, explain to me, the import of 
 those words, my beloved child, or I shall 
 run distracted !'* said the signora, in a tone 
 of wild alarm, while Ascoilini, trembling 
 with rage and consternation, siood gazing 
 onCecilia with looks of fearful expectation; 
 as, in obedience to her mother's wish, she 
 essayed to reply ; but her words were inar- 
 ticulate, and her manner confused. The 
 names of Orazio and Angelo Guicciardini 
 were, however, sufficiently distinct ; and 
 although it was impossible to comprehend 
 the full meaning of her expressions, yet the 
 signora and the prior soon understood that 
 she had seen both Orazio, and the robber 
 Angelo, in the garden at midnight. 
 
 '^ Plunder — midnight assassination was
 
 67 
 
 then their aim!" exclaimed the prior: 
 '*^ And you, weak and romantic girl, what 
 evil spirit urged \ou to wander alone at 
 fiuch an hour? And how did you escape 
 those ruffians?'' 
 
 '' Neither attempted to insult me, fa- 
 ther,'* replied the trembling Cecilia. 
 
 '' How !'* exclaimed Ascollini — '' not 
 insult jou ! Holy saints ! do I live to hear 
 Cecilia di Berlotti avow a midnight inter- 
 view with robbers and assassins, and yet 
 declare slie was not insulted ! Was not 
 their presence sufficient insult to a chaste 
 
 and " 
 
 '^ Hold, Father Ascollini!" interrupted 
 the signora — " The precipitancy of your 
 nature impels you to unjust conclusions. 
 Hear my Cecilia's detail of this singular 
 event, and till then delay your decision." 
 
 '' Decision I What other decision can I 
 make than that which I have already pro- 
 nounc/^d. Orazio Angelo clandestinely 
 flies from my ton vent ; he is no where to 
 be found ; and now I hear this hapless 
 child declare, that she beheld him and An- 
 gelo Guicciardini together at midnight ! 
 Is not this evidence of his guilt sufficient ? 
 Is it not obvious to every mind, not biassed 
 by the most absurd prejudices, that this 
 amiable, this all-accomplished Orazio, is a 
 young bandit, and the pupil of that arch 
 villain, Angelo Guicciardini ? And what 
 am I to suppose from the acknowledgment 
 of Cjecilia's being absent from her chamber 
 at such an hour?"
 
 68 . 
 
 Unable to excuse, t)r account for such a 
 singular deviation from propriety, without 
 avowing the cause of her having so far 
 transgressed the bounds of decorum, Ce- 
 cilia's distress and confusion increased : 
 tears of bitter anguish and remorse fell 
 from her downcast eyes, and she remained 
 silent, while the signora, bending over her 
 in an agonv of maternal grief and terror, 
 durst not urge her to speak, lest she should 
 avow some error which could not be par- 
 doned. 
 
 Ascollini's anger and distress now be- 
 came unbounded : he reproved the easy 
 credulity with which the Signora di Ber- 
 lotti had admitted Orazio Angelo, in terms 
 equally severe and just, till Cecilia, 
 shocked and overwhelmed wiih surprise, 
 shame, and a feeling of indignation at the 
 invectives which he uttered, yet endeavour- 
 ing to silence the keen emotions of her 
 heart, entreated to be permitted to retire 
 with her mother, at the same time promis* 
 ing to discover every secret thought of 
 her soul, and erroneous action, to that dear 
 parent. 
 
 Ascollini gave a silent and a sullen as- 
 sent; then summoned Lodelli, who had 
 been early dismissed from the apartment, to 
 assist the signora in leading Cecilia to hec 
 chamber.
 
 69 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 The moment Cecilia found herself alone 
 in her chamber with her mother^ she seemed 
 to recover fortitude and calmness sufficient 
 to give her power to enter into some ex- 
 planation ; and preparatory to her agitated 
 detail, she placed the casket given her by 
 the pilgrim in the hands of the signora^ ti- 
 midly requesting her to examine its con- 
 tents, and to read the billet^ which she now 
 took up from off the floor^,on which it had 
 fallen on the preceding night. 
 
 The Signora di Berlotti^ more intent on 
 reading the billet than on vie\ving the con- 
 tents of the casket^ placed the latter on 
 the table beside her, and, with eager curi- 
 osity and dread, read the lines addressed 
 by Angelo Guicciardini to lier daughter. 
 Their import did not seem to shock her so 
 extremely as Cecilia had apprehended they 
 might have done; and the amiable girl felt 
 relieved and encouraged when the signora, 
 turning on her a look of the softest pity 
 and affection said — 
 
 '•' Shall I spare my, Cecilia a mortifying 
 and distressing confession ? Shall I under- 
 stand from her embarrassment and tears, 
 that Angelo Guicciardini's conjectures 
 were founded in truth ; that she became 
 sensible of this, and, in the hurry and con-
 
 70 
 
 fusion of such a discovery^ could not re- 
 pose, but wandered into the garden.'* 
 
 Cecilia's downcast eyes, varying colour, 
 and deep emotion, confessed more than 
 words could have done. The Signora di 
 BerlQtti folded her to her indulgent heart, 
 while she softly, but in a tone of self-re- 
 proach, added — 
 
 '' I only am to blame; but the impres- 
 sion made on the heart of Cecilia, while 
 she considered Orazio Angelo as brave, 
 amiable, and the adopted son of her mo- 
 ther, must soon cease when she considers 
 the object of her predilection in the hor- 
 rible character of a midniglit robber, and 
 the companion of Angelo Guicciardini.*' 
 
 The signora continued to sooth the spi- 
 rits of Cecilia, and at length received a 
 full detail of the events of the preceding 
 night, to which she listened with the most 
 attentive earnestness, but did not make any 
 remark on the subject. This taciturnity, 
 however, gave a keen sensation of disap- 
 pointment to Cecilia. She had hoped to 
 learn her mother's opinion respecting the 
 solemn asseveration Orazio had made as to 
 the cruelty of judging his conduct by ap- 
 pearances ; ^nd although she did not ex- 
 pect that the signora would express herself 
 inclined to place any confidence in the 
 words of Orazio, yet she felt her silence as 
 proceeding from a conviction of his guilt ; 
 and, in consequence of this opinion, expe- 
 rienced a still more violent degree of sejf-
 
 71 
 
 disapprobation for having so weakly con- 
 ceived a predilection in. favour of one^ 
 whose mysterious circumstances should 
 have rendered her most careful to avoid 
 his constant society. 
 
 While these reflexions occupied the 
 mind of Cecilia, the signora remained for 
 a few minutes absorbed in silent medita- 
 tion. At length, starting from her reve- 
 ries, she fervently kissed the tearful cheek 
 of her daughter, and comraehding the in- 
 genuous sincerity with which she had 
 opened her heart, took up tlie casket. 
 
 After some trifling remark on the casket 
 itself, which was a plain ivory one, ihe 
 signora opened it ,* but the Kuoraent jshe be- 
 held the diamond cross aad pearl chain^ 
 she uttered an exclamanon, and <^xamined 
 both that and the bracelets with an eager 
 attention and an excessive emotion, which 
 proved how much the sight of these orna- 
 ments interested her, 
 
 '' Veronica— poor Veronica !" she sighed, 
 as if unconscioiis of her daughter's pre- 
 sence — '*^ when these last spar'iled on thy 
 lovely bosom and fair arms, how little didst 
 thou dread the fate that *' Then sud- 
 denly recollectmg iiersell, she turned to- 
 wards the astonished Cecilia, and instantly 
 replacing the jewels, and closing the casket, 
 said— 
 
 " My inadvertence has unintentionally 
 revealed to you, my Cecilia, that I possess 
 a former knowledge of these ornaments. 
 There is a sad tale connected with the ori-
 
 72 
 
 ginal owners of these jewels. At some fu- 
 ture period I maj perhaps acquaint you 
 with with i\\^ events to which my words 
 allude. At present^ I am incapable of the 
 effort. In the mean time I will take the 
 casket into my own possession ; and should 
 any particular occasion occur^ in which ^ 
 3^ou may require such splendid elegancies ;| 
 as these, you shall have my permission to 
 wear them. I must now return to Father 
 Ascollini : he is impatient for my re-ap- 
 pearance.'' 
 
 The signora arose^ and^ once more em- 
 bracing her daughter, said, '' Adieu for the 
 present, my beloved Cecilia ! Compose 
 your spirits ; and do not suffer your mind 
 to be depressed by the consciousness of a ^ 
 trivial error, which your own delicacy and ,» 
 good sense will soon enable you to conquer. - 
 Remain for a short time in your ov^n apart- 
 ment. The turbulent agitation of the good 
 Father Ascollini Avould but distress you, 
 should you accompany me to the parlour. 
 1 will send Lodelli with your breakfast.'* 
 
 The signora now withdrew, leaving Ce- 
 cilia much tranquillized by the influence 
 of the calm and collected seriousness of her 
 manner. 
 
 How powerful is the impression of that 
 air of placid ease and cool indifference 
 with which judicious age affects to regard 
 the events that raise the wildest emotions in 
 the bosom of inexperienced youth ! 
 
 Cecilia, supported for a time by some- 
 thing of the same serenity which seemed to
 
 73 
 
 diffuse itself over the mind of the sig^nora, 
 as she departed^ began to blush at the late 
 violence of her feelings^ and instantly 
 ^ yielding to the impulses of imagination, 
 fancied that she had mistaken the nature 
 of her sentiments for Orazio Angelo, 
 and concluded that her mother had uttered 
 an undeniable truth when she had averred 
 that it was impossible for her to entertain 
 long even the least favourable opinion of 
 that mysterious young man. 
 
 The entrance of Lodelli with a tray of 
 the most delicious fruits v\hich the cottage 
 afforded, and some white bread, was now, 
 ho\yever, a very unwelcome interruption to 
 the reflections of Cecilia, who again began 
 to feel the arrow of unsubdued passio'i 
 rankle in her heart, as she attempted ta 
 struggle with her emotion, and essayed to 
 taste the fruit. She was incapable of the 
 effort, and as soon as possible dismissed ihc 
 afi'ectionate Lodilli, that she might orxc 
 more be at liberty to indulge in the very 
 contemplations which she should have se- 
 dulously banished from her mind. 
 
 Lodelli, however^ had not been absent 
 above a few minutes, ere she returned to 
 inform Cecilia that the signora her mother 
 requested her immediate attendance in tlie 
 parlour. 
 
 This summons increased ihe uneasiness 
 and emotion that agitated the nnnd of 
 Cecilia; but she resolutely endeavoured to 
 check all appearance of perturbation,, and 
 immediately descended to the parlour. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 r-' 
 
 4 
 
 On opeiiing the door, she perceived Fa- 
 ther Ascollmi still there. She paused, and 
 hesitated to enter ; but the father hastily 
 advanced, ar.d, with a look of mingled 
 embarrassment and kindness, led her into 
 the room, apologizing very earnestly for 
 his recent abruptness and passion, and 
 concluding with the most lavish com- 
 mendations of her ingenuousness and pru- 
 dence. 
 
 " The signora, your mother, has briefly 
 informed me that accident, not design, led 
 you into the garden last night," he con- 
 tinued ; '' and I cannot sufficiently approve 
 the discretion you manifested in not reply- 
 ing to the rodomontade and impertinent 
 professions of that unknown and dangerous 
 young man/* 
 
 Had Cecilia set as high an estimate on 
 her own discretion as the Father Ascollini 
 seemed to do, she might have been flat- 
 tered by his approbation ; but her ideas of 
 her own piudcnce were exactly the reverse, 
 and; while the deepest blush passed over 
 her pale features, she disclaimed all title 
 to his commendation, and entreated his 
 pardon for not having placed a proper re- 
 liance on the opinion which he had origi- 
 nally formed of Orazio Angelo. 
 
 The dark eyes of Ascollini now seemed 
 animated with an expression of gratified 
 vanity, which extremely displeased the 
 Signora ^\ Berlotti, who perceiving Ceci- 
 lia abasbVd at his glance, desired her to 
 yetire, giving her at the same time direc-
 
 75 
 
 lions to wait with Lodelli in her apartment 
 till she joined them. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Cecilia had scarcely reached the cham- 
 her of the signora before she followed her 
 thirher. 
 
 Lodelli was now ordered to withdraw ; 
 and the mother and daughter found them- 
 selves once more alone. 
 
 " And now, my dear Cecilia/' said the 
 signora, *' while we are free from inter- 
 ruption, I will con mence a task which, al- 
 th«?ugh most painful to me to execute, I 
 can no longer delay, as it is necessary that 
 you should be mdde acquainted with the 
 circumstances that I am about to relate.^' 
 
 •' Oh, not for me — not for me, shall you, 
 my dearest mother, Subject yourself to the 
 distressing feelings which you seem to ap- 
 prehend this recital may cause you to suf- 
 fer,'' said the lovely girl, while filial ten- 
 derness and concern beamed from her full 
 expressive eyes. 
 
 '' Grateful as I feel for my Cecilia's 
 duteous Hiid affectionate concern for my 
 tranquil lity, yet I must cot indulge the 
 repugnance I feel to enter on the detail I 
 purpose to give her, wliile tliere exists a 
 prohabiiitv that my silence miaht induce 
 her to attribute to negligence or impru- 
 e2''
 
 clence an error which was the effect of the 
 purest motives. I nieaa to account to jou, 
 my love, for my apparent deviation from 
 my usual caution, in admitting* to our friend- 
 ship the joung man who has so much dis- 
 tressed us by his singular and seemingly 
 unworthy conduct. But to render my rea- 
 sons more intelligible to you, I must recur 
 to former periods, the recollection of which 
 never fails to fill me with the deepest 
 sorrow.*' 
 
 Here the tremulous voice of the signora 
 but too truly evinced that she did indeed 
 suffer keenly, when calling back to remem- 
 brance the occurrences to which she al- 
 luded. After a short pause, during which 
 she appeared to recover herself, she con- 
 tinued : 
 
 '' It is not essential that I should now 
 enter into a long account of my own fa- 
 mily and connexions. Every circumstance 
 relative to ourseiVi^s you will be informed 
 of at a proper time : suffice it to acquaint 
 you, my Cecilia, that our ancestors were 
 noble, their possessions large, and the 
 splendour of their mode of living equal to 
 their wealth and the spirit of dififusive 
 generosity and benevolence which distin- 
 guished our house for centuries past. Of 
 my own family, it is not, however, my in- 
 tention to speak very elaborately at pre- 
 sent. I shall therefore confine my detail 
 to a few circumstances necessary to explain 
 ray matives for some parts of my recent
 
 'a 
 
 conduct. At the period to wliich T am 
 about to recur. I resided with a relation at 
 Venice ; and *' 
 
 Here the signora was iuternipted by the 
 voice of Lodelli, who, timidly ei.t ri.:g% 
 informed her that the Signor Ma-svezzi 
 \\as arrived, and requested her immediate 
 presence. Agitated by th*is information, 
 which was wholly unexpected, the sjg.oora 
 arose, and merely desiring Ludelli to re- 
 main with Cecilia during her absence, has- 
 tily left the room. Cecilia, hovvevT, 
 would have preferred being suffered to in- 
 dulge her own reflections in .solicitude. 
 This visit of the Signor Malvezzj i:ot only 
 formed a most unpleasing interruption to 
 the relation which the signora had hnt iust' 
 commenced, bsit also excited r;o trifling 
 ^hare of surp ise as to the n^otives that 
 could have brought him to ibe cot; for 
 between liis usual visits ^'n ijiterval of two 
 T^-.ears had always occurred, ^iid now a year 
 had not elapbCfi siece his laet. 
 
 Was it possible, Cecilia thought, that 
 Jais snGd(?n le-appearaiiice could be con- 
 nected with the recent events relative to 
 Orazio Ar?gelo ; but this wasi but the idea 
 jof the moinen^t, for she was soon convinced 
 <of its absurdity. However, conjecture 
 could ^vi^Q^ no information on the subject^ 
 and CeciUa endeavoured to check the an- 
 :^ious curiosity \yhich increased the agita- 
 l^lofl o>f her mind ;' aad takiug up her net- 
 ting, seated herself at the open casement to 
 work. 
 
 e3
 
 78 
 
 Meanwhile Lodelli, who, with ludicrous 
 indications of impatience, had restrained 
 herself from interrupting the meditative 
 silence of her young lady, now ventured 
 to say :" The Sigcor Malvezzi, signora, 
 will not now stay here a day or two, as he 
 used to do formerly. He was in such a 
 hurry to see my lady, that I thought he 
 •Was half mad. He looked so wild, too; 
 aiid said he must be gone in less than an 
 hour, and that he had travelled all night; 
 and, indeed, s'gnora, he looked as bad and 
 as tired as if he had been travelling six 
 nights. Oh, my dear young lady, these are 
 very different times from what we have 
 been used to! 
 
 '' No more comfortable quiet days, and 
 chearful evenings shall we have now, I'm 
 sure. Ay, ay, as the good Father Ascol- 
 lini said to me, it's all over, ever since 
 that vile young deceiver, that handsome 
 Orazio Angelo, got admittance here. Dear 
 si<L^nora, who would have thouglit, that 
 with all his fine, innocent, noble looking 
 countenance, he should be no better than 
 a robber, and employed by that terrible 
 AngpJo to kill us all." 
 
 *'' And who said that he was employed 
 for such a purpose?'' timidly enquired 
 Cecilia, while her varying colour spoke the 
 emotion of her soul. 
 
 *' Who savs so, signora ! Why, who 
 but the holy Father Ascollini, who doesn't 
 want for wit to find out such folks. And 
 he says, he is sure that the robber Angela
 
 79 
 
 only chaced him into the cottage, that he 
 might pretend they were not friends, and 
 so impose upon the good- nature t)f your 
 mamma^ and to make her think him a young 
 saint, when he is nothing but a vile sinner; 
 and so he has at last p.oved himself to be^ 
 bv his runnir.g awav so/' 
 
 The entraneeof the signora now checked 
 the loquacity of Lode Hi, nho was imme- 
 diately ordered by her lady to withiraw. 
 
 The agitated voice and disturbed looks 
 of the sigijora would ha\e bin sufficient 
 to inform the alarmed Cecilia that her 
 mother had just received the most un- 
 pleasant intelligence : but when the servant 
 had retired^ the signora, bursting into tears, 
 enfolded the lovely form of l;er daughter ; 
 and, af'cr weeping for a moment^ in silent 
 agony, said, 
 
 '' Cecilia, my beloved child, the hour 
 of peril is arrived !---\\ e must part!" 
 
 '' Part !" faintlv exclaimed the astonish- 
 ed girl, while her expressive-looks spoke all 
 of grief, amazement^ arsd t«^rror. 
 
 '' Oh, yes \" articulated the signora, in 
 a voice almost subdued by mental anguish : 
 '^ Yes ; I must send thee hence to a 
 place of safety, or ere to-morrow eve, thou 
 wilt be torn from my arms tor ever!" 
 
 " Merciful Providence ! can this be so? 
 Oh, my mother, what dreadful mystery 
 hangs over our fate ?-— What compels 
 you to this sad necessity?" 
 
 '' Alas! my child, this is not a time for
 
 80 
 
 explanation : every moment must now be 
 devoted to our preservation from thcwvoist 
 calamity which can threaten us. Ah ! 
 whither, whither can I send thee, to con- 
 ceal th?e from the power of (hat cruel per- 
 secutor ? But, forgive m< -^forgive my un- 
 intelligible raving, yet wheri^ " 
 
 '' If it is so essential that I must quit 
 thee, my dear mother/' said Cecilia, ''may 
 not the Father Ascollini point out some (it 
 retreat — some convent?" 
 
 '' Oh! no, no :'' exclaimed the signora 
 di Berlotti. Ascollini may not be con- 
 fided in this instance^ nor could any convent 
 screen you from those whom I dread dis- 
 covering you.*' 
 
 " But the subterraneous caves connected 
 with this cottage, my mother— cannot i 
 there seek security ?" 
 
 '' A!as ! I leav not/' replied t'h6 sighdr'af 
 '' ihey are all known to Ascollini ; and 
 
 yet " She hesitattd, and then, suddenly 
 
 rising, rang the bell ; and, on Lodelli's ap- 
 pearing, oraeredher to call Guispardo^ and 
 to return with him herself. 
 
 While Lodelli flew to execute this order, 
 the signora walked up and down the room 
 in the greatest emotion. Cecilia, trembling 
 and more alarmed by the distress of her 
 mother, than by any apprehensions for her 
 own safety, sat silent^ and in tears. 
 
 A few moments only passed ere Lodelli 
 re-appeared with Guispardo. The signora 
 paused as they entered, and turned towards 
 the old man, who, meekly bowing, awaited 
 in silence her commands.
 
 8] 
 
 The signora drew her trembling hand 
 across her brow; a more than usual pale- 
 ness was spread over her countenance^ and, 
 after a uioment's reflection^ she said — 
 
 '' Guispardo;, before to-morrow night I 
 am to expect a visit from the Count deWeil- 
 burgh. Mj retreat is discovered. How 
 shall I conceal fioni that monster this de- 
 voted child." And now^ embracing Ce- 
 ciiia^ who sunk on her knees before her, she 
 wept more bitterly, while the faithful old 
 servant^ apparently as much agitated and 
 alarmed as his mistress, wrung his hands, 
 and uttered several inarticulate expressions 
 of surprize, and trouble. But Lodelli, 
 though a stranger to the private history of 
 her lady, with which it was now evident 
 that Guispardo was acquaiiiled, instantly 
 proposed taking her dear young signora to 
 the cottage of her sister, who lived in a 
 lonely glen about three leagues distant. " 
 
 '^^ And nobody can ever find her there, 
 my lady," said the good-natured young 
 woman. '' My sister's husband is only a 
 poor wood-cutter, you know, madam ; and 
 who would think of lookii5g for my dear 
 young mistress there?'' 
 
 The signora was too distracted in her 
 ideas to pay much attention to the repre-_ 
 sentations of Lodelli. Still bending o'er 
 the drooping form of Ceciiia, she turned 
 her eyes, dimmed by tears of .vnaternal love 
 and fear, on Guispardo, and fainily pro- 
 nounced, '' The caves, Guispardo— hast
 
 82 
 
 thou not often told me that those subter- 
 raneous mazes are so intricate, as to be 
 impenetrable to all who are unacquainted 
 with them?'* 
 
 Guispardo started. '' The caves ! ma- 
 dam!'' he tremulously repeated; and^ after 
 a momentary hesitation, added, *' Dare 
 you suffer the Signora Cecilia to venture 
 amid those horrible recesses! — those reces- 
 ses where mur— " 
 
 The Signora Berlotti now darted a look 
 at Guispardo, which instantly silenced him, 
 and said : 
 
 '' Where else can she find security, old 
 man?" 
 
 '' True, excellentissima : 'tis there alone 
 that my dear young lady can hope to remain 
 concealed; therefore, when it is your plea- 
 sure, signora, that she should retire thither, 
 I will conduct her," said Guispardo, while 
 the solemn gravity of bis tone of voice and 
 manner, evinced how seriously he felt the 
 mournful necessity of such a procedure. 
 
 '^ Then retire, and make the requisite 
 preparations for her continuing there for a 
 day or two," said the signora, attempting 
 to assume the appearance of a calmness, to 
 which she was too much a stranger; '' and 
 remember, Guispardo,— and you, Lodelii, 
 that on your silence and fidelity in this in- 
 stance, depends the safety — nay, perhaps 
 the life, of this dear child." - 
 
 Guispardo ba-ved in silence, while the 
 look of reverential pity and affection v/hich 
 he cast on Cecilia, replied more forcibly
 
 83 
 
 than language could have done, how dear 
 to him was the safely of his lovely young 
 mistress. As for Lodelli, awed and con- 
 founded by the wildness of the Signora di 
 Berlotti's air^ and the distress in which 
 both herself and her daughter were in- 
 volvedj she could only once call all the 
 saints to witness how silent and faithful 
 she would be; and then followed Guis- 
 pardo, to assist in the necessary prepara- 
 tions for the concealment of her young lady. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 Although once more alone with her 
 daughter, the Signora di Berlotti still found 
 hcreelf too much agitated, and too much 
 under the influence of terror, to be able to 
 speak on any other subject than that i)f Ce- 
 cilia's temporary concealment; yet her ex- 
 pressions, even on this theme, were uncon- 
 nected ; and it was soon but too apparent 
 that the excess of her fears had rendered 
 her incapable of thinking reasonably, or of 
 deciding coolly on this point. Conscious thi t 
 she could not fix on any place which might 
 afford greater security than the subterrane- 
 ous retreat promised to do, she yet felt most 
 reluctantly fearful of permitting her to re- 
 tire thither, and her language betrayed all 
 the irresolution and anguish of her mind. 
 
 Meanwhile Cecilia displayed all the 
 e6
 
 84 
 
 raagnariimit}^ and mild fortitude with 
 which the liying exigency of the moment 
 seemed to furnish a disposition hitherto so 
 timid and full of sensibility: she dried her 
 own tears, to check those of her beloved 
 parent ; and while her sweetly plaintive ac- 
 cents were those of consolatory affection, 
 they were also calculated to inspire hope 
 and courage. The Signora di Berlotti 
 gazed on her as she spoke, with all the en- 
 thusiasm of maternal admiration, and at 
 length, with a mind calmed and invigorated 
 by the efforts of filial love and piety, she 
 began to speak with composure of her* Ce- 
 celia's temporary continuance in the ca- 
 verns ; and now the lovely girl timidly ven- 
 tured to ask, why her mother might receive 
 and converse with the dreaded Count de 
 Weilburgh, from whom she thought it ne- 
 cessary to conceal her daughter. 
 
 " Alas, my Cecilia," replied the signora, 
 " ur^preparcd for the suddenness of this 
 terrible hour, I have neglected to inform 
 you of the mysteries whic h have long ba- 
 nished me to this seclusion ; and now I 
 have neither time nor composure to enter 
 into a history of my life; and a brief vchi- 
 tion would not sulTiciently explain to you 
 the evils I have formerly endured, nor the 
 cause I liav3 for dreading that even greater 
 ills may yi^i b'-fal us But, oh ! if we 
 should meet again in ?afety, then I will 
 reveal to (Iiee, mv- child, the sad story of 
 my siifferii gs. Enquire no further, my 
 child; my i^thonglits wander. I scarcely
 
 85 
 
 know what I say. Give me the only con- 
 solation which I can now know : that of 
 making your present ease and safety my 
 only CAirc." 
 
 The signora now arose, kissed the pale, 
 tear-dewed cheek of Cecilia ; and com- 
 mandiiio' her not to come down stairs, with- 
 
 o ^ • . . 
 
 drew, to direct Guispardo in his arrange- 
 ments for her short residence in the caves. 
 
 Cecilia, now left to solitary reflection, 
 soon experienced all the torture of unavail- 
 ing conjectures and apprehensive surmises. 
 No longer under the necessity of exerting 
 her own spirits in order to cheer the des- 
 pondent alarms of her mother, her mind 
 yielded insensihiy to the influence of the 
 depressive consciousness of her singular 
 situation ; and a thousand images of un- 
 kjiown horrors crowded on her perturbed 
 imagination. Had she known the extent 
 and nature of what she had to dread from 
 the Count deWei'burgh, that much-feared 
 foe, from whose power her mother thought 
 it so essential to protect her with so much 
 care, Cecilia might have summoned suffi- 
 cient fortitude to look'with unfeigned calm- 
 ness on every evil which could threaten 
 her; but her ignorance as to what she had 
 to apprehend added new horrors to her 
 situation, and exposed her to all the tor- 
 ments which doubt and fear can inflict. 
 But these sad reflections were not confined 
 to her terrors of the present and the future: 
 the past held a powerful ascendancy over the
 
 86 
 
 mind of this artless pupil of sorrow ; and 
 the recollection of the few short days of 
 transient happiness, recently passed in the 
 society of Orazio Angelo, arose to add the 
 bitterness of mingled regret and self-re- 
 proach to the misery she otherwise endured. 
 The idea of the robber Angelo — his myste- 
 rious visit — his promised protection — all 
 crowded in vivid images on her fancy, and 
 nearly distracted her senses by the contrary 
 emotions the V excited. 
 
 Through hours of extreme misery, or 
 extreme felicity, we are unmindful of the 
 pace of time. Already the mellow tints of 
 evening softened the surrounding scenery, 
 and the fast-declining sun-beams receded 
 from the summits of the nearest hills, ere 
 Cecilia, starting from bewildered reveries, 
 beheld Lodelli enter the room. 
 
 '' I have brought you some refreshments, 
 my dear young lady," said the good Lo- 
 dellij in a mournful voice: '' I'm sure you 
 will have need enough to take something- 
 before you go into that frightful place. 
 San Antonio help us ! How will you 
 have courage to remain there by yourself, 
 two days. My lady has sent Ihe old couch 
 down there, and some bed clothes, and a 
 lamp, and plenty of oil ; and Guispardo is 
 to take some wine and provisions, when 
 you go. But, mercy on me! you'll never 
 be able to stay there a night. Do you 
 think you shall, signora-? 
 
 '' Certainly,"' replied Cecilia, almost in- 
 clined to smile at the whimsical expression
 
 8? 
 
 of dismay which Lodelli's grotesque fea- 
 tures exhibited. *' Why should I fear? I 
 have never injured any mortal; wherefore^ 
 then, should I doubt the protection of 
 heaven?" 
 
 '' That is very true, my dear young lady," 
 observed Lodelli. '' But, although you 
 may not have injured any person, yet it 
 might please heaven to try your faith by 
 something very terrible. Now, I have never 
 injured any person in my life, except— the 
 saints guard us!— except, my refusing to 
 marry Jerome, the wood-cutter, was an in^ 
 jury ; and though he did go beyond sea, 
 almost broken-hearted, for the loss of me^ 
 yet he should not have taken it so much 
 amiss, considering that he had but one eye, 
 and was rather bandy. And so, signora, 
 you see I had some excuse for what I did ; 
 though, to be sure, he did threaten to 
 haunt me, if he should die first ; and I can 
 assure you, signora, that that ill-natured 
 threat-— was it not iil-natured, signora? 
 that threat has often come into my head 
 when I go round by the little paling that 
 divides the garden, just where the scare- 
 crow is set to frighten the birds — it looks so 
 like Jerome by moon-light." 
 
 A f^int smile now involuntarily animated 
 the features of Cecilia. '' Ah, you may 
 smile, signora," continued Lodelli; '''and, 
 bless thy sweet, innocent heart, it does me 
 good to see thee smile, my dear young lady; 
 and, if I can but see one such smile on
 
 88 
 
 your beautiful face^ when we are in those 
 dismal caves to-night^ I will not fear all the 
 ghosts of the murdered travellers that they 
 say walk there.'* 
 
 '' You in the caves^ Lodelli P* exclaim- 
 ed Cecilia : '' surely you are not to accom- 
 pany me?'* 
 
 *' Yes, but I am^ signora : the signora, 
 your mother^ did not want much pressing 
 to give me leave to go with yoU;, though 
 at first Guispardo had almost made her 
 believe^ that if I was missed from the cot- 
 tage, it might be the means of discovering 
 where you were.'* 
 
 The opening of tlie door interrupted Lo- 
 delli, and the signora slowly entered. 
 
 Her tear-swoilcn eyes, faltering steps,, 
 and pallid looks, evinced how she had pas- 
 sed the afternoon. Cecilia arose, and threw 
 herself into her mother's arms, and mingled 
 her tears with those of this tender parent. 
 
 For some moments neither spoke. At 
 length Cecilia tremulously said, 
 
 '' Lodelli tells me, my beloved mother, 
 that you have consented to her accompany- 
 ing me to my retreat; but can you think 
 that I can be happy in her attendance, 
 while I know you to be alone ? No, no; 
 suil'er her to remain, and attend to you in 
 my absence. Do you think that my fancy 
 can be affrighted by the tales of supersti- 
 tious terrors attached to the subterranean ? 
 By no means. The aonviction that I have 
 cause to dread nal evils, will banish all
 
 89 
 
 alarm of imaginary ones ; and I am confi- 
 dent I shall not there encounter anv thing 
 which reason need apprehend." 
 
 The signora now represented to Cecilia, 
 that Lodelli's accompaaving her to the 
 caves won hi give the greater appearance of 
 truth and piubability to the story of her 
 being sent off to a convent; a deception 
 which necessity would compel her to prac- 
 tise on the visitor she expected ; and, as it 
 was by no means probable that she would 
 have gone thither unattended, Lodelli's ab- 
 sence would appear but proper. 
 
 Rather to ease the nund of her mother, 
 than from any conviction of the necessity 
 of Lodelli's attendance, Cecilia, at length, 
 acquiesced; and^ as the evening was now 
 fast closing, the signora ordered a slight 
 supper in her chamber, not chusing that 
 Ler daughter should detc^nd to the loWcT 
 apartments, lest Ascoliini should call in on 
 his return tothe pnorjj from visiting a gen- 
 tleman who lived nearer the edge of the lake. 
 Seated by the open lattice, the hand of Ce- 
 cilia fast locked in the hand of the signora, 
 this afifectionate parent and child suffered 
 the delicious fruits, so neatly spread on the 
 little table near them, to remain untasted, 
 while each, with tearful eyes, mournfully 
 contemplated the bold and shadowy out- 
 lines of the gigantic Alps stretching along 
 the horizon, and rearing their snowy points 
 and rugged brows above the chesnut-co^ 
 vered hill, beneath which the cottage was 
 sheltered on the north- west, while all the
 
 90 
 
 nearer scenery was enveloped in the dusky 
 shade of fast-approaching night. A more 
 than usual sileiice pervaded all around : 
 no breeze was heard to whisper amid the 
 thick myrtles, nor wafted the perfumed 
 fragrance of the rich flowering shrubs tbat 
 encircled the cottage. The heated atmo- 
 sphere seemed oppressively heavy^ while the 
 lov^eringhue of the heavens seemed to fore- 
 tel the coming tempest. 
 
 '' Cecilia!" sighed the signora, pressing 
 more tremblingly the hand she held, '' Ce- 
 cilia, how awfully still — how solemn is the 
 appearance of nature at this moment! It 
 seems as if an intuitive voice whispered j 
 njounifuliy i* my soul that we are on the J 
 €ve of partii g, never to meet again ! An \ 
 icy chili cre> ps through my veins, as the 
 horrible anticipation of to-morrow rises to 
 my tormeiited fancy : in vain^ I repeat to j 
 m\ self the assurances of thy safety — those 
 assurances so solemnly made me by the ve- 
 nerable Guispardo. I cannot banish from J 
 my mind the sickening presentiment which | 
 warns me that this is the last hour in which ! 
 I shall be permitted to clasp thee to my 
 aching bosom^ and bestow on thee a pa- 
 rent's blessing. Yet, oh Cecilia! if, as my 
 sad forbodins: heart informs me, thou , 
 shouldst be torn, by cruel hands, for ever ■' 
 ever from my sight '' 
 
 A loud and violent knocking at the cot- 
 tage gatCj and the trampling of horses' feet^ 
 now gave a dreadful interruption to the 
 signora. She started back : a half-uttered 
 
 I
 
 91 
 
 cry trembled on her pallid lips, and her 
 head sunk on the bosom of Cecilia^ who, 
 losing all fear of Hanger in the situation of 
 her mother^ loudly called on the name of 
 Lodelli. 
 
 This effort recalled the fleeting senses of 
 the sigiiora, who, now recovering, and 
 hearing the knocking continue, wildly cried^ 
 " Fly ! my child, fly ! — fly to the caves : 
 or, behold thy wretched mother expire with 
 terror at thy feet." 
 
 Lodelli now rushed in, exclaiming, '' O, 
 I believe they are come already. Hide 
 yourself, my dear young lady, as fast as 
 you can : Guispardo must open the door in 
 a few minuleSj or else they will break it 
 open/' 
 
 Gasping, breathless, and with almost 
 frantic wildness, the Signora di Berlotti 
 again commanded the now nearly distracted 
 Cecilia to hasten away; and the horror- 
 stricken girl, faintly, but with eagerness, 
 insisting that Lodelli shold remain with her 
 mother, on whom she cast a glance of an- 
 guish unutterable, at length fled from the 
 apartment;, and, guided partly by the un- 
 certain twilight, reached the small parlour, 
 from whence the panneled wainscot admit- 
 ted her into ths small vaulted recess, where, 
 to her inexpressible satisfaction, she found 
 a lamp, dimly burning on the time-mossed 
 pavement. 
 
 Rightly imputing the finding this lamp 
 to the careful forethought of poor Guis- 
 pardo^ Cecilia eagerly raised it from the
 
 92 
 
 ground^ and ligbtly stepping onward, dis-r 
 covered the head of a deep flight of stone 
 steps. Co. nmendtng herself to the pro- 
 tection Of Provident e, and internally pray- 
 ing 'he sa.ne gracious power to aid her be- 
 Jovi d parent in the present trving hour, she 
 besran to descer»d the st<psj but proceeded 
 but slowly, her way being so frequently 
 impeded by the broken fragments of sonie 
 of the half-m(uildered steps, and the sliny 
 da npi^ess of others. At length, with con- 
 siderable difficulty, she reached the ter- 
 mioation of tiie st< ps, and found herself in 
 a cavern, the extent of which she had no 
 means of ascertaining, as the damp-dimmed > 
 rays of her lamp gave hardly suSicient light ' 
 to direct her footsteps over the rough ine- 
 qualities of the ground which was here un- 
 paved For some moments she continued 
 tC proceed ; but sooq perceiving the lamp 
 burn brighter^ and a fresher air give free- 
 dom to her respiration, she paused, and 
 raising the light above her head, once more 
 attempted to distinguish where she was. 
 Still all around seemed dark and obscure: 
 but on moving a few paces further, she ob- 
 served the glittering reflection of what she 
 justly conceived to be spars^or petrifactions, I 
 on the rugged projections of the natural roof 
 and sides of the cavern ; and on approaching 
 liearer, she found her conjectures realized : 
 for, in this part of the cave, a kind of na- 
 tural grotto was formed by a rough, irregu- 
 larly-arched recess^ the interior of which, 
 ascending in the rock^ promised hejr sAme
 
 93 
 
 security from the dampness which had as- 
 sailed her on the earthy ground in the 
 cavern. With a beating heart, she entered, 
 und placing the lamp as far as possible from 
 the entrance, she knelt^ and inclining her 
 head on a craggy fragment of rock, which 
 seemed to have fallen from the roof, sought 
 to quell the agonizing tumults of her mind 
 in that never failing-resource of the pious, 
 fervent, and sincere devotion. 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 For nearly an hour the innocent Cecilia 
 contnuied to soothe the anguish and terror 
 of her niind by prayer, and at length find- 
 ing her confidence in heaven revived, and 
 her spirits more calm, she once more ven- 
 tured to look around, and attentively 
 listened for the footstep of Lodelli, or 
 Guispardo, one of whom she felt assured 
 would be sent to her by her mother, as 
 soon as the mysterious and dreaded visitor 
 had departed. Hour after hour now passed 
 on,, and no one appeared. Cecilia still 
 mentally prayed : but human nature is not 
 capable of supporting terror and suspense 
 with equal strength and fortitude for any 
 length of time. The mind, supported by 
 innocence and piety, may enable sufierin^ 
 virtue to combat with affliction; but to 
 I conquer those intervals of weakness and 
 doubt, to which even the most pious and
 
 94 
 
 resolute are too frequently exposed/ is not 
 the act of frail humanity. Cecilia raised 
 her tearful eyes to the dark, unseen roofs 
 of the cavern ; and her imagination ex- 
 alted her soul to those bright realms where 
 the ever- watchful Guardian of the inno- 
 cent reigns in glory ; but still those mo- 
 ments of enthusiastic hope and faith were 
 succeeded bj the chilling ones of fear and 
 doubt, and then her eye was fixed on the 
 impenetrable gloom of the cave, and she 
 fearfully gazed on the dismal void, wdldly 
 expecting to behold some dreadful blood- 
 stained vision rise to her aching sight. But 
 from these horrible fantasies she was 
 at length aroused, by the feeble flashing 
 of the dim flame of her lamp. Rising 
 with precipitation, she hastened to exa- 
 mine it. With consternation she perceived 
 the oil was nearly consumed, and in a few 
 moments darkness would be added to the 
 horrors which environed her. With trem- 
 bling hands, she essayed to trim the expir- 
 ing light: alas! it mocked her efforts. 
 She replaced it, and was throwing herself 
 in despair on the broken cragg, when the 
 sound of a heavy foot-step caused her to 
 turn her eyes to the entrance of the recess ; 
 and, instantly, a martial figure, whose 
 high-plumed helmet glittered resplendent 
 in the glare of a torch he carried, stood full 
 in her view ; and a sonorous voice, but ia^ 
 a low tone, pronounced her name. 
 
 A faint shriek was the only reply of Ce- 
 cilia; for as the figure had bent forward
 
 95 
 
 into the recess, she discovered the features 
 of the robber Angelo Guicciardini. In- 
 sensibility succeeded this shock. Soon, 
 however, sh^ recovered — recovered to find 
 herself borne swifdy through the cavern, 
 supported on one of Angelo's athletic arms, 
 while brandishing in the otber hand the 
 flaming torch, he illuminated the rugged 
 earth, over which he seemed to fly. 
 
 Feebly struggling in his close grasp, 
 but unable from terror to shriek, Cecilia 
 attempted to free herself ; but Guicciardini, 
 pausing a moment, and perceiving that 
 she had recovered from her swoon, mur- 
 mured in a hollow whisper, while he shook 
 the torch, to give a clearer light, and 
 gazed on her pale features :^ — 
 
 "^ Whence this alarm this childish 
 
 fear ? Have I not sworn to piloted you j 
 and who shall accuse Angelo Guiccardini 
 of a breach of such a vow ! — Unfortunate 
 child ! dost thou too wish to add another 
 -victim to the insatiate malice of that mur- 
 derer'" 
 
 '^'^ Murderer ! — Oh! my mother!*' ar- 
 ticulated the distracted Cecilia. 
 
 '^ Unhand me — let me fly to receive her 
 last sigh, and perish with her !" 
 
 '^^ Girl \ girl !** now exclaimed the rob- 
 ber Angelo, while his gigantic form seem- 
 ed dilated with emotions mdescribable, and 
 seizing her roughly by the arm— "^^ Dost 
 thou tempt me to annihilate thee ? Be 
 silent, and accompany me, or dread the 
 fate that awaits thy obstinate folly. Ut-
 
 96 
 
 ter but one cry — but one complaint^ and 
 thy ruin is certain.'* 
 
 A loud voice, seemingly at a great dis- 
 tance^ now resounded in lengthened echoes 
 through the caverns. Angelo started, and 
 instantly extinguishing the torch, once 
 more seized the hand of Cecilia, and drag- 
 ged her sw^iftly onw^ard, muttering^ in a lovr 
 and hollow voice, threats of the vengeance 
 that would attend her faintest cry. But 
 terror and despair had now rendered her in- 
 capable of attendiisg to his warnings, and 
 she uttered a piercing shriek. The rob- 
 ber, starting, let go her arm, while an ex- 
 clamation of wonder and rage at her te* 
 merity fell from his lips But this instant 
 of liberty from his rough hold, was seized 
 by Cecilia, with an avidity of thought, 
 which only the peril of her circumstances 
 could inspire, and availing herself of the 
 impenetrable darkness in which the cavern 
 was now involved, she lightly stepped back- 
 ward a few paces, and thus eluding his at- 
 tempt to regrasp her arm, she fled from 
 the spot, with a degree of fearful precipi- 
 tation which added wings to her ppeed, and 
 made her insensible to the difficulties, 
 which otherwise might have impeded her 
 steps. 
 
 Proceeding with eager haste, and un- 
 conscious of the new dangers which might 
 assail her in the wild mazes of the exten- 
 sive cavern, Cecilia still fled she knew not 
 whither, 'till the sound of falling water, 
 apparently at no great distance, caused her
 
 97 
 
 to pause. The cataract's roar munnured 
 loudlj thrpugh this p?rt of the cavern^ but 
 all was still dark. Perhaps some torrent, 
 proceeding from the rocky heights above, 
 had taken its course through the caverns, 
 she thought, and without a light, or any 
 clue to ii'uide her uncertain way, was it 
 not probable that she might meet certain 
 deaths by plunging iiito the hiddeii strt^am ? 
 This idea checked all hope of proceeding 
 further, and she feared to remain where she 
 was, leat Angelo, directed by her light- 
 sounding footstep, had cunningly pursued 
 in silence. Yet were she to continue on the 
 spot, did not almost equal danger threaten 
 her ? For must she not, hid as she was in 
 this part of the damp subterranean, where 
 heavy vapours hung, and seemed to fore- 
 warn her that no gleam of day had ever 
 penetrated, inevitably perish ? At length, 
 conscious that to endeavour to proceed could 
 not be attended with more peril than to re- 
 main where she then stood, she once more 
 resumed her uncertain course; but her 
 steps were now slow and cautious. 
 
 As the hapless girl wandered amid all 
 the terrors of darkness and incertitude, 
 she gradually lost tlie sound . of the cata- 
 ract; and after more than an hour, which 
 to her appeared an age, spent in vain at- 
 tempts to reach the rocky wall of the ca- 
 vern, she thought she beheld, at no great 
 distance, a pale gleam of light. Trem- 
 bling with emotions of mingled fear and 
 hope, she fixed her eyes steadily on the 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 
 
 faint ray, and after walking a few paces 
 farther, caught a transient view of the 
 moon, partially seen through a fissure in 
 the rot ks overhung with many a festooned 
 wild shrub. Those only who have with 
 devious steps trodden the unceitain abode of 
 never-ceasing darkness, can conceive with 
 what an emotion Cecilia continued to gaze 
 on the bright moon-beam that penetrated 
 the clefted rock. With eagerness she ad- 
 vanced to the spot, above Vt'hich the open- 
 ing admitted the guiding ray, and at length 
 reached it. And here a few projecting 
 crags, wetted by the trickling waters from 
 a fairy spring abovje, terminated her course. 
 Faint and exhausted, she now sat down^ 
 and catching a few drops of the cool- 
 ing water in her hand, moistened her 
 parched lips. This pure beverage, and a 
 few moments rest, rather revived her, and 
 now determining not to leave this spot, 
 which as the moon-light entered, she v^as 
 certain the broad light of day would in 
 some degree illumine, committed herself to 
 the further protection of heaven, aid sat 
 awaiting the return of morning. And now 
 all the painful fears and conjectures, which 
 her eager (light through the caverns had 
 in some measure suspended, retunied, and 
 wearied her perplexed mind, 'till exhausted 
 nature, unable to endure longer the con- 
 tinual agitation which for two successive 
 days had deprived her of rest and repose, 
 sunk her senses into the transient oblivion 
 of sleep.
 
 \)l} 
 
 CHAP. XVIIL 
 
 From a heavy slumber, the innocent. 
 Cecilia was at length awakened, by the 
 mingled voices of Lodelli and a stranger, 
 and, on opening her eyes, beheld herself 
 half-supported by her faithful servant, and 
 surrounded by men, some of wh(hn held 
 torches, while one, whose habit bespoke 
 the nobility of his rank, stood leaning for- 
 ward, aisd gazing upon her with looks of 
 earnest scrutiny. 
 
 Feebly pronouncing the name of Count 
 de Weilburgh, Cecilfa added, " Oh ! 
 spare my beloved moiher, aiid behold uie a 
 ready sacrifice to your mysterious hatred !" 
 
 The stranger slightly started ; but in- 
 stantly recovering himself, gently took her 
 hand, while he said — 
 
 " You are mistaken, young lady ; 1 am 
 not the Count de Weilburgh/* 
 
 '' Oh, no, no, signora/' now said Lo- 
 dielli, while she assisted the stranger to raise 
 Cecilia, whose delicate limbs, chilled by 
 the midnight damps of the cavern, almost 
 refused to support her : '' this good na- 
 tured gentlema \ is not that vile, wicked 
 Count de Weilburgh, who has so basely 
 carried off my dear lady, and poor Guis- 
 pardo/' 
 
 '' Carried off ! '* exclaimed Cecilia, wild- 
 ly^ '' Who ? — not my mother.'' 
 
 And her eye resting with a glance of fear- 
 f2
 
 100 
 
 fully enquiring nieaning on the stranger, 
 lie replied, 
 
 '' Alas ! young lady, your mother has 
 indeed been spirited away frou) the cottage ; 
 but as her old servant has been made the 
 companion of this enforced journey, it may 
 be hoped no serious evil is intended her/' 
 
 Cecilia heard not the conclusion of the 
 stranger's speech. Overcome by the dread- 
 ful intelligence of her beloved parent's 
 having been forced from the cottage, she 
 had fainted, and was now conveyed from 
 the caverns in a state of insensibility. 
 
 When she was revived to the afflicting 
 consciousness of her troubles, she found 
 herself reclined on the bed in her own little 
 room; that room which, from youth's ear- 
 liest dawn, had been the scene of calm and 
 sweet repose, 'till the entrance of Orazio 
 Angelo into the cottage : now it was doomed 
 to witness the sighs and tears of that keen 
 anguish, which the recent troubles that 
 had so suddenly involved its once happy 
 possessor excited. 
 
 With recollection Cecilia found all the 
 terror of her situation unfold, and wildly 
 calling on the name of her mother, she 
 yielded to all the excess of a grief the most 
 poignant and unavailing. But her efforts 
 to rise were inv^ffectuai ; the shivering chills 
 which had struck her tender frame in the 
 caverns, and deprived her of the power of 
 mution, now threatened a violent fever; 
 but by the skill of a physician, humanely' 
 snuimoaed by the stranger^ who, with his
 
 101 
 
 servants^ still continued in the cottage, and 
 by the unremitted care of poor Lodelli^ 
 the dreaded consequences of Cecilia's in- 
 disposition were prevented/ and on the fol- 
 lowing day she was able to rise; but the 
 shock which her mind had received, could 
 not be overcome and while her youthful 
 constitution baffled the attacks of disease^ 
 she yet laboured under the pressure of the 
 keenest mental agony. 
 
 On awaking from the salutary sleep 
 which the prescription of the physician had 
 procured her, Cecilia was, at firsts too lan- 
 guid, and her ideas too confused, to allow 
 her to enquire respecting the reality of the 
 cause of that sorrow^ which her reviving 
 recollection presented to her mind ; but 
 when she did at length possess the power 
 of collectedly askiitg a few quesUons, her 
 faithful Lodelli, shrinking from the task 
 of replying to them, eagerly assured her 
 that the good nobleman, who was still in 
 the house^ would tell her all that had hap- 
 pened. 
 
 As the senses of Cecilia grew more 
 and more clear^ sh(! became earnest to see 
 this stranger, of whose kindness and bene- 
 volent attentions Lodelli had at least no 
 fear of speaking ; and therefore, as soon as 
 she was dressed, and had swallowed the 
 draught, directed to be taken when she 
 arose, she descended, supported by Lo- 
 delli, to the apartment where the stranger^ 
 already apprized of her intention, waited 
 to receive her. 
 
 F 3
 
 102 
 
 On entering the little parlour, where she 
 had so often passed the calmest and hap- 
 piest hours of her life in the society of hor 
 mother, Cecilia experienced the de^'pest 
 emotions of sorrow ; but as her nerves wf re 
 in some degree stiengthened by the medi- 
 cine she had just taken, she possessed 
 power to repress aH violent i'xpr( ssion of 
 her internal conflicts, and replied, with 
 somewhat of composure, to the compli- 
 ments which the stranger, with a hesita- 
 tion which she attribuied to the feeUnPfs of 
 a compassionate heart, paid her on her en- 
 trance. Soothed, and yet affected by his 
 manner, Cecilia now ventured to say, that 
 she had been informed by her attendant 
 that io him she must be indebted for some 
 information respecting the mysterious si- 
 tuation of her mother. 
 
 The stranger replied, that he should be 
 happy to satisfy the eager anxiety which 
 he perceived she suffered as to the situation 
 of the Signora di Beriotti; but, to his ex- 
 treme regret, he had but little to com- 
 municate -on the subject. 
 
 *' The zeal of your servant, signora,'^ 
 he continued, ''has, I fcar, led her into 
 some unaccountable mistake. It is true, I 
 forewarned her of the danger of alarming 
 you by an abrupt and unguarded detail of 
 the conduct of those whx> have forced your 
 mother from her abode, but I am as utterly 
 unacquainted with the persons and motives 
 of those ruffians, as I am of the place to 
 which they may have conveyed the lady.
 
 103 
 
 Indeed, I did not enter the cottage 'till 
 some hours after thej had depaned^ and 
 then a mere accident conducted nu hither ; 
 fo|- happening to pass near to the garden 
 gate, which opens on the avenue leadiiig to 
 the road, I heard the distant cries of a 
 female voice, and directed hy those 9ou;ids 
 of lamentation and d.istres=, I alighted 
 from mj horse, and followc d by those ser- 
 vants that attended me, I entered the gar- 
 den^ whi^rc, bonod to a tree, 1 foui^d your 
 servant, who in piteous accents informed 
 me, that her lady, the mistress of the cot- 
 tage, and a male servant, had j-ist been 
 dragged awaj she knew not whither, by 
 som'^ g^•n{leman, whom she called the Count 
 deWeilburghj and after liaving bound licr 
 to the tree»had left her, and her dear young 
 lady, who was Lid in the caverns, to perish. 
 How very incoherent this account was Ho 
 me, you may readily suppose, signora. — 
 However, I at lerjgth understood that you 
 had been the chief object of ^ the very dis- 
 agreeable visitor's search ; and being con- 
 ducted by your servant to the entrance of 
 the caverns, where I was informed vou 
 were concealed, I and my servants com- 
 menced our search ; but were not so happy 
 as to find you for many hours And now. 
 young lady, I have briefly informed you of 
 every particular with which I am ac- 
 quainted. As to the motives which may 
 have induced this unknown person to assail 
 and carry off tlie Signora di Berlotti ( for so 
 I understand your parent is called) your 
 F 4
 
 J 04 • 
 
 servant appears to be a perfect stran2;er to 
 them, and Oiercforc it is not su.piizi rig- 
 that I caDiot iiUfss them ; but if you will 
 please to give me some accurate explai<a- 
 tioii of (his afl\ur, 1 vy-li most rarnestiy em- 
 ploy my utmost iiiterest in procuring you 
 justice/* 
 
 Disappointed, shocked, and dispirited, 
 Cecilia drooped her head as she listened, 
 and when the stranger concluded^ had 
 scarcely power to (hai*k him for his benevo- 
 lent offers of assistance : confessing', at the 
 same time, that she was so totally ignorant 
 of the private hisiory of her mother, as to 
 be utterly incapable of giving him any in- 
 formation wliich might serve as a clue to 
 guide to the detection of those enemies,' in- 
 to whose power the signora had thus un- 
 happily fallen. 
 
 '' Then your real name, I presume, is not 
 Berk>tti, and as your mother has preserved 
 so strange a mystery respecting her family 
 ard connet tons even towards you, I ima- 
 gine you are not acquaii^ted even with that 
 to which you have aiv just claim ?" 
 
 There was that in th^e tone of the stranger 
 ■while he made this enquiry, which struck 
 Cecilia with an undefined sensation ; for 
 the first time, she rai«ed her tearful eyes^ 
 and regarded him with a look of awakened 
 cii»'io-ity ard atlet Uon. 
 
 The face and f gure, which now met her 
 ti'ni gaze was such as ri vetted for a few 
 moo- cuts In^r ean^est observation. The 
 sti anger was standing, and his attitude
 
 105 
 
 fiillj displayed bis peculiarly tall figure, 
 the gaunt disproportion of which invoiun- 
 tarily shocked the eye, while the i^xpression 
 of his sombre countenance now relaxed 
 into what he iutLiided for a smile of gentle 
 compassion, expressed any mea ung rather 
 than that which it was intended to con- 
 
 Nothing could exhibit a more striking 
 contrast than the richness of his dress and 
 the ungracefulcess of his form, united with 
 the awkward stiffness of his air, and hesi- 
 tating mode of speech, which, a^ now- 
 turning from the fixed look of Cecilia, and 
 again demanding \\hetber she was ac- 
 quainted with her real family name, was 
 even more apparent tlian before, 
 - His embarrassment restored Cecilia to a 
 sense of the rude impropriety of which she 
 had been guilty, in obser^^ing him so ear- 
 nestly, and after apologizing for her not 
 immediately replying, die added — 
 
 '' I am indeed wholly ignorant of all that 
 relates to my family; but perhaps the prior 
 of the San Ambrose, may not be so unin- 
 formed on this subject as I am, as he was 
 particularly distinguished by my mother, 
 and was her confessor/' 
 
 The stranger shook his head^ and re- 
 plied- — " I have already seen and conversed 
 with the Father Ascollini ; but your mother 
 has never reposed so much coniias^nce even 
 in him, as to confide to him any intelligence 
 respecting her family, or herself, prev'0"s 
 toher settling here. The good prior haa 
 F 5
 
 106 
 
 lieen inexpressibly shocked at her sudden 
 a^sappearance ; and, like yourself, knows 
 
 )t to whom to impute the cause of it. As 
 to this Count de Weiiburgh^ it is a title of 
 ■which I have no knowledge ; nor dors Fa- 
 ther Ascollini remember ever to have heard 
 the signora mention it : but he has spoken 
 of a circumstance which, I am afraid, is 
 but too nearly allied with your recent mis- 
 fortune. I allude, young lady, to the im- 
 prudent fact of her having; introduced to 
 her friendship and her house a young man^ 
 whom the prior, with much seeming justice, 
 m nuoi s as connected with the famous 
 robbfr Angelo Guicciardini; and certainly 
 it does not seem improbable that these men 
 may have been the cunning agents of some 
 secret enemy, and may have betrayed her 
 into their hands/' 
 
 A thrilling horror chilled the soul of 
 Cecilia^, as the more than probability of this 
 circumstance flashed on her mind ; and in 
 tremulous accents, she now articulated her 
 fears, that such might have been the case, 
 and briefly relJited the incidents of her 
 meeting w iih, and escape from the robber 
 Angelo, prior to her having been found by 
 the stranger in the caverns. 
 
 As she mentioned this latter circumstance, 
 the stranger seemed struck with the utmost 
 alarm and agititi<»n, and scarcely permit- 
 ling her to conclude, he started up, and in 
 a hurrfed manner^ said, '" Sigiiota, lam 
 astonished at }Our tenurity ! It is incredi- 
 ble ! To have met that daring ruffian luik-
 
 107 
 
 ing in the subterranean last night, and jet 
 continue here exposed to his attacks ; no- 
 thing but madness could be g'uilty of such 
 a trolly ! We shall all be murdered ere the 
 morniiig dawns ! I would not remain here 
 another hour for the universe 1" 
 
 And now summoning his servants^ he 
 ordered e\ery thing to be prepared for his 
 immediate departure^ while Ceciha, amazed 
 and confounded by his r%p roaches, knew 
 not what to urge in her own defence ; for 
 she easily perceived that concern for the 
 fale of her mother, would notbea sufficient 
 vindication of her imprudence with him ; 
 and indeed he almost immediately intimated 
 so, by saying — 
 
 '^ The misfortune which has fallen on 
 your mother, young lady, cannot jt slify 
 you in exposing yourself to the hazard of 
 falling into the power of the tremendous 
 Angelo Guicciardini ; therefore, if you 
 will accept of the protection which I can 
 offer you, I will immeiliately place you 
 with the M archese di Rovenza^ my lady/' 
 
 The entrance of Ascollini prevented the 
 necessity of Cecilia's repiying. 
 
 The prior seemed njuch aiiected. He 
 took the hand of Cecilia in silence, and his 
 look evinced to her how truly he sympa- 
 thised in her misfortunes. She burst into 
 tears. — Ascollini halfuttereJ an execration, 
 which being ming!ed with th^ name of 
 OrazJo, left her no doubt of his meaning. 
 But the attention of the prior was soon de- 
 manded by the Marchese di Rovenza ; for 
 f6
 
 108 . . 
 
 so was the stranger called, who now re- 
 peated the oOer he had made Cecilia^ and 
 begged the father to represent to her the 
 propriety of immediately preparing for her 
 departure^ mentioning at the same time 
 her interview with Angelo on the preced- 
 irg ni<;]it. 
 
 A-toijished and surprised, Ascolliniturned 
 towards Cecilia, and required to know what 
 ihf robber had said to her ; but the terror 
 of the moment had permitted her only to re- 
 member that he had attempted to carry her 
 away throngh the caverns^ and that she 
 had escaped. The prior, however, ap- 
 peared to think that this action of the rob- 
 l3er's aftorded sufficient cause for confirm- 
 ing him ia his opinion, that Angelo was 
 concerned as an agent, in the disappearance 
 of the Signora di Berlotti ; and while he 
 raved at the imprudence of her having 
 countenanced, even for a moment, the 
 young Orazio, who he persisted in de- 
 claring could be nothing more than a spy 
 or confederate of that arch robber's, he 
 urged Cecilia to place herself under the 
 protection of the Marchesa di Rovenza, 
 averring, that she ought to consider her- 
 ielf asniost paHicularly fortunate in find- 
 ing friends in one of the most illustrious 
 and exalted Venetian families. The father 
 then gave her the most solemn assurances 
 of sending her the earliest intelligence 
 which he should happen to receive respect- 
 ing the signora : and again representing, in 
 the most forcible manner, the inutility, as
 
 109 
 
 well as the danger, of her remaining at the 
 cottage^, at length prevailed upon her to 
 assent to accompany the marchese to Ve- 
 nice. 
 
 Cecilia, after gracefully acknowledging 
 the benevolent kindness of the marchese^ 
 who politely permitted her to make Lodelli 
 the companion of their journej, withdrew^ 
 to give some orders relative to her depar- 
 ture^ and to review a habitation so long 
 endeared to her, ere she should deliver up 
 the keys to the care of the Father AscoUini-, 
 who had promised to place some proper 
 person in the cottage to take care of it, till 
 the fate of the Signora di Berlotti should 
 be ascertained. 
 
 An hour of the bitterest grief was now 
 passed by the hapless Cecilia, who, while 
 Lodelli hastily arranged the articles they 
 meant to take along with them, visited the 
 room of her mother, and then yielded up 
 herself a prey to all the anguish of heart, 
 which the idea of perhaps never more be- 
 holding that dear parent inspired. 
 
 CHAP. XIX, 
 
 At length the summons of Lodelli to 
 attend the marchese, as all was now ready 
 for their departure, aroused Cecilia from 
 the indulgence of her unavailing grief. 
 Hastily endeavouring to conquer her tears, 
 she suffered Lodelli to adjust her dress^
 
 110 
 
 and arrange the -waving tresses that now 
 no longer shaded a cheek which the warm 
 glow of internal happiness had brightened 
 with the roseat bloom of health ; and soon 
 her tea-rful *ejes were concealed by a long 
 veil, and her lovely form enveloped in a 
 simple cloak. Thus attiredj she descended 
 to the parlour, supported by her faithful 
 servant, whose tears now kept pace with 
 her own. 
 
 The marchese, apparently respecting the 
 deep grief of Cecilia, led her in silence to 
 the carriage, into which he followed, while 
 Ascollini assisted Lodelli into the corner 
 she was permitted to occupy, and then re- 
 peating to Cecilia his assurances of writing 
 to her as soon as he could obtain any in- 
 telligence relative to the Sigriora di Ber- 
 lotti, bade his lovely pupil a most mourn- 
 ful adieu, and the carriage drove off. 
 
 For some hours the marchese, with an 
 appearance of polite consideration which 
 insensibly soothed the feelings of Ceciliaj 
 did not interrupt the sad silence which her 
 still unsubdued affliction compelled her to 
 observe. At length perceiving that she 
 made several eiforts to restrain her tears, 
 he called her attention to the varied beau- 
 ties of the road they were travelling, and 
 pointing out to her notice their now near 
 approach to the town of Sesto, informed 
 her that he intended to proceed to Milan, 
 where they should rest that night. 
 
 Cecilia, grateful for attentions which 
 bespoke urbanity and sympathy, once more
 
 Ill' 
 
 attempted to appear. rather composed, and 
 partially tlirowiug aside her veil, glanced 
 her eyes on that part of the country within 
 her view. The lake Maggiore, and its 
 beautiful hills, were no longer to be seen; 
 but a fertile plain, through which wan- 
 dered the Tessino, glistening in the dis- 
 tance, as, wdnding away between its richly 
 cultivated banks, it was partially-seen amid 
 groves of mulberries and luxuriant vine- 
 yards. 
 
 Yet, delightful as was this charming 
 scenery, Cecilia beheld it with more than 
 indifference. All was new to her sight, 
 and, in the present state of her mind, she 
 viewed the country with those sensations 
 of mournful dislike, with which a heart ill 
 at ease seldom fails to regard every ex- 
 ternal object : she could not therefore reply 
 to the observations of the marchese in a 
 tone of admiration, and he, easily pene- 
 trating the nature of her feelings, no longer 
 demanded her opinion on the subject, and 
 another silent interview ensued till they 
 entered Sesto. 
 
 Here the marchese paused but for a fev/ 
 moments till they changed horses, while a 
 servant s-ummoned some of his attendants, 
 who were here aw^aiting the arrival of their 
 lord, and they then proceeded towards 
 Milaxi 
 
 On leaving Sesto, the marchese accounted 
 to Cecilia for the circumstance of some of 
 his servants having remained there, by in- 
 forming her that he had been on a visit to
 
 a nobleman,, whose viila was situated about 
 a league beyond that town. 
 
 " And I was making an excursion on 
 the banks of the Lago Magiore/' he added, 
 ^^ when Providence conducted me to jour 
 cottage, just at the moment when mj as- 
 sistance was so much required to protect 
 jou from your foes. But, pardon me/' 
 continued the marchese, now perceiving 
 Cecilia was much aiVected^ " I did not in- 
 tend to revert to those unpleasant circum- 
 stances. When we have reached Venice, 
 and you may have recovered from the 
 shock your spirits yet labour under, we 
 will resume the subject of your troubles, 
 that I may learn how I can farther serve 
 you/' 
 
 Cecilia attempted to express how fully 
 sensible she felt -herself of the marchese's 
 goodnesSj but her thanks were not so 
 warmly returned as they might have been, 
 had she not fancied that she perceived an 
 ostentatious air of extreme condescension 
 mingling with his offers of protection and 
 service. 
 
 The marchese bowed to her acknow- 
 ledgments, and then leaning back in the 
 carriage, seemed to fix his thoughts in me- 
 ditation, while his eye rested vacantly on 
 the passing view. 
 
 Meanwhile Cecilia yielded in silence to 
 the anxiety and grief, with which her in- 
 certitude respecting her beloved mother 
 filled her mind, till a sudden turn of the 
 road gave to her view the distant summits
 
 113 
 
 of the Grison Alps, towering in all the 
 awful sublimity of light and shade which 
 the fast-retiring sun beams threw over 
 their rugraed outlines. Tear^ dimmed her 
 sight as, with a sigh of a.iguish, the re- 
 membrance of how many hours she had 
 passed contemj)lating with her mother at 
 thc^ close of day the majestic features of the 
 Alps, vvhich separate Switzerland t>om the 
 liaiian bailiwicks, bevond which St. Go- 
 thard's raised its lofty head; and with 
 these tender recollections arose all the re- 
 newed anguish which the recent strange 
 and dreadful circumstances had occasioned. 
 Cecilia, drawing her veil still closer over 
 her face, returiie j to the iiidulgence of 
 the' deep and uviavaili; g sorrow that op- 
 pressed her heart. The marchese, how- 
 ever, noticed her not any further ; and 
 poor Lodelli, who still sat silent and awed 
 in his presence^ could not summon cou- 
 rage to address her simple efforts at con- 
 solation to her dear young mistress. 
 
 Thus the travellers continued till they 
 reached Milan, which, however^ they did 
 not enter till after dark. 
 
 Declining the marchese's entreaties that 
 she would sup, Cecilia immediately retired 
 to repose, and at length her grief-wearied 
 spirits yielded for a few hours to the in- 
 fluence of sleep. 
 
 At an early hour on the following morn- 
 ing she was summoned to resume the jour- 
 ney; and this day passed almost in the 
 same silence which had marked the close
 
 114 
 
 of the preceding one, the marchese now 
 scarcely addressir»g Cecilia but with some 
 necessary complinricnt whicli the circum- 
 stances of th(? jouroej required; and she 
 was too much occupied by her sorrows to 
 experience any painful emotion from his 
 altering' manners. 
 
 On arriving; at Padua^ which they 
 reached towards the close of the day, the 
 marchese announced to Cecilia an intention 
 of .not only passis g the night there, but of 
 remaita.ig in the town till the next even- 
 ing; addirg^ that his desire to visit a 
 friend, who had a villa at a small distance^ 
 was the motive of his delay, concluding 
 "with recommending to her to keep closely 
 to her chamber during his absence. The 
 marchese then suffered her to retire for the 
 night. 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 The moment Cecilia had reached the 
 apartment where she was to sleep, Lodelli 
 carefully examined the room^ and having 
 convinced herself that it was well secured^ 
 and free from all intruders^ she soon drew 
 her young lady from the gloomy reverie 
 into which she had again fallen, by saying — 
 
 '' And now^ my dear young mistress, 
 now that I have seen with my own eyes 
 that all is safe, I will tell you what I was 
 afraid of: — You must know^ signora^. that
 
 115 
 
 last night, after you had gone to bed in 
 the inn at Miian^ I wei.t down ssairs to 
 get some supper^ for I was very faifit and 
 low-spirited; and 'tis no good— no good 
 at all, my dear yomig lady, for people to 
 fret and starve themselves till thty tan do 
 no good to any body, but be sad and fcar- 
 fiii, instead of having coinage to face, or 
 outwit their enemies : and so I went down, 
 an*' the mistress of the inn made oie very 
 welGome, and set before me some fine fruit 
 and good wine; and then seeing me look 
 quite pleased^ and eat my supper heartily, 
 she asked me many questions about you, 
 and seemed to know the Marchese di Ro- 
 venza very wel^ and told me what a fine 
 lady the marrhesa was^ and what a noble 
 looking young signor their son was, and 
 that the Signora Oltavania Rovenza was 
 handsome toOj but not so handsome as her 
 brother, and '* 
 
 Here Lodelli was interrupted by a slight 
 tap at the chamber-door, and on opening 
 it, orte of the female servants of the inn 
 entered the room with a tray of refresh-, 
 merits, and saying that the rnarchese had 
 ordered that the young lady should have 
 some supper served in her chamber, as she 
 was too much indisposed to remain below, 
 began to spread the table. 
 
 Cecilia, who did not think it proper to 
 oppose this, desired the girl to return her 
 thanks to the marchese, which the servant, 
 with many curtesies, promised to do; and 
 after delaying rather longer than she need
 
 116 
 
 have done, finished the arrangement of the 
 table, and withdrew. 
 
 When she was gone, Lodelli^ who had 
 most impatiently desired the absence of the 
 girl, that she might renew the subject 
 which the entrance of the former had in- 
 teiTupiedj now so earnestly entreated Ce- 
 cilia 10 take some refreshment^ that she at 
 length sat down to table; and, insisting 
 that Lodelh should parlake of the repast^ 
 atten^pt^d to taste the, delicious fruits 
 which geemed to have been selected to 
 tempt h< r appetite ; for they exceeded^ in 
 luxuriant bloom and freshr.ess^ any she had 
 seen. During the meaj^ poor Lodelli, 
 however, my a as she professed to relish 
 a good supper, was too attentively engaged 
 in persuading her young mistress to eat, to 
 avail h rself of the present opportunity of 
 gratifyi' g her own appetite; and Cecilia 
 was compelled to declare that she would 
 not listen to th" intelligence which the 
 former was impiitient to communicate^ till 
 she had taken ner supper. 
 . The repast was now soon ended; and 
 Cecilia, rather revived by the salutary re- 
 freshiiient she had partaken, felt a degree 
 of imprest as to what Lodelli had to relate^ 
 to which she had been a stranger during 
 her late anxious and distressing contem- 
 plations ; and this interest was momentarily 
 increased by the hesitation of Lodelli, who 
 was so pleased at seeing Cecilia look more 
 composed, that the latter had occasion 
 more than once to remind her faithful ser-
 
 117 
 
 vant of the lateness of the hour^ ere she 
 could check her joyful comments on her 
 own more placid appearance. At length 
 Lodelli, whose lively dark eyes glistened 
 M ith delight, as she affectionately watched 
 every turn of Cecilia's looks^ said — '' Yes, 
 my dear young lady, now that you begin 
 to look something like yourself again, I 
 will tell you all about what I heard — ay, 
 ay, you will then see that my advice, silly 
 as I am, is not to be despised, and that 
 people mustn't let their hearts sink, if they 
 want to ^et through this world. But 
 where was I ? O ! I believe I was saying, 
 signora mio, what a fine family the Mar- 
 chese di Rovenza has ! Ay, that was it. 
 There's the marchesa herself, and her son, 
 and her daughter, the Signora Ottavania. 
 Yes, it is Ottavania they call her — I re- 
 member her name, because they told me 
 she was very proud, and that the marchese, 
 her father, doats on her for all that. Isn't 
 that odd, signora ? How can any one like 
 a person that .is very proud ! I remember 
 ray poor father, and he was very 'cute and 
 knowing, I assure you, signora : my fa- 
 ther used to say that none but fools were 
 ever proud ; for let them be as great and 
 as grand as they will," says he, '' they 
 must! all die at last, and what are they the 
 better than other folks then ? for what 
 signifies a fine tomb ? We shall rest as qui- 
 etly under a green turf, as they under a 
 marble sepulchre ; and as for their souls, 
 I believe they would be glad enough to be
 
 118 
 
 in many a poor man's place^ that they haye : 
 liuiFed about and kept down low enough in 
 this world. But this does not signify as 
 to what 1 have to say, signora; and as I 
 was going to tell you before, they say that 
 the Signora Ottavania is as proud as Lu- 
 cifer, and wouldn't so much as look at 
 any body that wasn't as grand as herself 
 for ail the world. Now^ when I heard 
 this, I began to think that when we got to 
 the marchese's fine pallaza at Venice, may 
 be this Signora Ottavania might be shew- 
 ing of her airs to you, and I could hardly 
 help crying for spite at the very thought 
 of it." 
 
 '' For spite, LodelH !" saijj Cecilia. 
 
 '' ^e%, for spite, signora; and is it not 
 enough to make me, when I'm sure, though 
 I don't know rightly who you are, my dear 
 yoiuig lady — when I'm sure that be she as 
 grand as she may be, she can't be grander 
 than you are ; for I heard the strange, 
 wicked count, that came to our cotta^i'e to 
 run away with your mamnia — I heard him 
 "with my own ears call her countess — the 
 Countess di Ver — Ver — Ver — dear^ dear 
 me, I can't remember the rest; but it was 
 Ver something. However, you know, 
 signora, that doesn't much signify. The 
 signora, your mother, w as a countess, and 
 that's enough. Now, if that proud sig- 
 nora ever- ** 
 
 '' Hush ! my good Lodelli,*' interrupted 
 Cecilia, who was now become ,most an- 
 xiously attentive to the circumstance of the
 
 119 
 
 Count de Wellburgh having addressed her 
 mother in such a stjle : '' your zeal for my 
 feelings renders you incapable of recount- 
 ing to me those facts which I am most ear- 
 nest to hear. The Signora Ottavania will 
 not certainly be so unmindful of her owa 
 dignity as to insult^ one who is under the 
 protection of her parents." 
 
 '' I can't say^ signora ; I don't^know as 
 for that. Some people are such fools that 
 they are proud of being called proud ; and^ 
 after all^ they know no more about what a 
 proper pride is, than I do about Greek ; 
 aiid while they are shewing off their impu- 
 dence and silliness, they think tbemseWes 
 greater and wiser than all the rest of the 
 world. But, as I was saying, my dear 
 signora, I could have cried with spite at 
 the thought of what you might suffer, and 
 was just going to say that you was quite as 
 grand as the Signora Ottavania herself, and 
 that you wouldn't take any of her airs, 
 when — holy San Pictro ! a man walked 
 into the room, and asked the mistress of 
 tlie house about some ices and preserves 
 that the marchese had ordered ; and as he 
 was a talking, I looked up in his face, and 
 was almost frightened to death ; for he 
 was the very image of one of those ill-look- 
 ing ruffians that helped to carry off Guis- 
 pardo. I thought 1 should have sv/ooned 
 away quite dead. Oh, signora ! I remem- 
 bered how he seized poor old Guispardo 
 by the throat, and swore he'd strangle him 
 if he made any noise." And Lodelli did
 
 ; 120 
 
 indeed now shudder even at the recollec- 
 tion. • '' Well, I looked at the man while 
 he was ordering these ices, and at last he 
 looked at me; but he did'nt seem a bit 
 surprised ; only he looked a little foolish, I 
 thought; but that might be with my star- 
 ing at him so ; and then he we it out of the 
 room directlj^, and I recovered, and asked 
 how long he had lived with the marchese. 
 ' Many years, I believe,' said the woman : 
 ' at least, I have seen him as long as I have 
 kept this house, and that is twelve years last 
 St. Jerome's day ; and I think nobody has 
 more right to know the marchese's people ; 
 for he, passes this road very often, visiting 
 one great person or another. But what 
 makes you so inquisitive about Signor Fa- 
 bricio ?' asked she. '' I did'nt know what 
 answer to give, she took me up in such a 
 hurry; and so I pretended I was sleepy, 
 and would go to bed ; and so I stole away to 
 your room, ma'am, and slept in the chair, you 
 know, all night; for I was terribly af.aid 
 that Fabricio might carry you off to." 
 
 Lodelli now paused ; but the incident 
 she had last been relating h'^d made so 
 deep an impression on Cecilia's mind, that 
 the latter was too much occupied by the 
 sudden and alarming surmises whirh 
 crowded on her fancy to be able to make 
 any comment on the subject. This bf^gin- 
 ning reverie was, however, quickly inter- 
 rupted by Lodelli, who now significantly 
 rejoined : 
 
 '"' And now^. signora^ if this Fabricio
 
 121 
 
 should be tlie very person who helped to 
 carry off my ladj and Guispardo, how 
 comes he to be in the service of the Mar- 
 chese di Rovenza, unless the marchese is a 
 friend to the Count de Weilburgh, and 
 knows all about it ; and if that's the case, 
 I'm sure, my dear young lady, it's no time 
 to give way to grieving and pining/ when 
 one should be thinking how they could get 
 out of such bad bands." 
 
 The rationality of this last observatiorf 
 caused the blush of self-reproach to mantle 
 on the pale cheek of Cecilia; and even 
 while her rnind was agitated with the 
 mingled feelings of grief and surprise, she 
 yet admitted the full conviction of the 
 weakness of yielding to an unavailing 
 grief, which bad not only blinded her rea- 
 son so far as. to incapacitate her from mak- 
 ing the necessary observations on her own 
 situation, but was also likely to deprive her 
 of the power of exerting herself to discover 
 the fate of her beloved mother. 
 
 This last idea awakened energies in the 
 heart of Cecilia, of which till this moment 
 she knew not that she was possessed; and 
 while a tear of regret lingered on her 
 cheek, for having suffered a blameable de- 
 spondency to steal over her spirits, she 
 raised her eyes to heaven, and mentally im- 
 plored that confidence in the protection of 
 Providence, and strength of mind, which 
 were so requisite to console and support 
 her in the trial which apparently awaited 
 her fortitude. After a few minutes' silence^ 
 
 - VOL. I. G
 
 122 
 
 she desired Lodelli to describe the person 
 of the servant whom she supposed to re- 
 semble the man' concerned in the outrage 
 which had been practised at the cottage. 
 
 '' The Signor Fabricio^ as he is caUed/' 
 returned tlie young wonian^ in a tone of 
 ludicrous peevishness, ^' is not over-tall ; 
 but he looks big anc^ strong: one of bis 
 shoulders seems a liitle higher than the 
 other, and he stoops rather : his complexion 
 is an ugly dark one^ and he has a hooked 
 nose and a long chin ; and one of his little^ 
 sharp, black eyes looks a bit bigger than 
 the other ; but for that I wos't be quite 
 certain ; for he winks so slily with the least 
 eye, that, maybe/ he only closes it to make 
 him seem the more cunning/' 
 
 '^ And were you sufficiently composed, 
 during such a scene of horror as that which 
 occurred at the cottage, to make these mi- 
 nute observations on the face and figure of 
 this man, Lodelli ?" inquired Cecilia, with 
 a look that spoke her incredulity of her 
 attendant's discernment and memory. 
 
 ^^ At the cottage, signora l" now stam- 
 mered Lodelli, rather embarrassed by the 
 penetrative glance of her lady — ^'^ O dear, 
 no : I did'nt say that I had such a full 
 view of him at that time : only when I saw 
 him last night, he seemed altogether so like 
 the man that half choked Guispardo, that 
 I could'nt help thinking that this Signor 
 Fabricio was the same, although his dress 
 di ' make him look somewhat different." 
 
 Cecilia, who now very rationally conjee-
 
 123 
 
 lured that the fears and zeal of Lodelli had 
 led her into a culpable mistake^ represented 
 to her the improbability, nay even absur- 
 dity^ of supposing, that^ had the marchese 
 been concerned in the late unfortunate af- 
 fair^ he would ever permit one of his own 
 domestics to become an agent in a trans- 
 action of such a nature. 
 
 Poor Lodelli at length confessed the 
 possibility that she might have been mis- 
 taken, and promised to be more cautious 
 for the future; and Cecilia, unwilling to 
 prolong the conversatioUj retired to take a 
 few hours" repose. To sleep, however, 
 she soon found, under such circum- 
 stances, impossible; and the hours 
 usually dedicated to, rest she now devoted 
 to a deep and heartfelt consideration of the 
 probable situation of her beloved mother, 
 and her own strange destiny. Happily for 
 Cecilia, the idea that the signora might 
 have more to dread from the rage of her 
 foe than imprissonment in a convent, or in 
 some other secluded retreat, had never en- 
 tered her mind ; for, believing herself to be 
 the chief object of the Count de Weil- 
 burgh's malicious persecution, she had 
 imagined that ho would merely confuie her 
 mother, till he could make a more success- 
 ful attempt to secure her own pers'?>nv. 
 
 As to the mistake that had led Lodelli 
 to suggest the possibility of the Marchese 
 di Rovenza's beino* concerned in assistins: 
 the plans of the Count deWeilburgh, no- 
 thing could appear to Cecilia more absurd ; 
 g2
 
 124 
 
 yet stiil the idea had left a fauit impression 
 on her mind ; and although she could not 
 indulge any suspicion of that nature^ yet 
 she still felt inclined to regard the conduct 
 of the marchese respecting herself in a sin- 
 gular light ; and even while she yielded to 
 the best emotions of gratitude for the pro- 
 tection afforded^ involuntarily she experi- 
 enced irresistibl'e sensations of fear and 
 distrust. 
 
 In vague and unsatisfactory reflection 
 she passed the houjs^ till at the approach 
 of dawn she sunk into unquiet slumbers, 
 haunted by frightful images of the past. 
 From these distressing visions she was at 
 length awakened by Lodelli^ who^ most 
 unwillingly obeying a message from the 
 marchese^ was now compelled to disturb 
 her lady, to inform her that his excellency 
 was preparing to go out to pay a visit to 
 his friend, and requested to have her as- 
 surances that she would not leave her 
 apartment till his return. 
 
 Cecilia immediately gave the desired ac- 
 quiescence to the wishes of the marchese, 
 and had breakfast made in her room. 
 
 The marchese^ however, was but a very 
 short time absent ; and, on his return^ gave 
 orders for his immediate embarkation for 
 Veuice ;Hhe friend whom he wished to see 
 being then absent from Padua. 
 
 Cecilia was soon ready to attend the 
 summons of her new protector, who now 
 received her with a complacent urbanity of 
 manners which li3 had not displayed on the
 
 125 
 
 preceding day. No particular conversation 
 took place after they had embarked ; and 
 the mind of Cecilia was so much occupied 
 by the unhappiness she endured on her 
 mother's account^ and the peculiarity of 
 their circumstances, that she found no at- 
 tractions in the beautiful prospects which 
 courted her attention from the banks of 
 the Brenta; nor could even the first view 
 which she beheld of Venice excite in her 
 sad bosom those sensations of wonder and 
 admiration which^ in happier moments, she 
 might have experienced. But, alas ! she 
 was now approaching tliis singular and 
 magniiicent city, oppressed with the heart- 
 rending recollection that her beloved mo- 
 ther had informed her that Venice was 
 once the place of her residence, and pos- 
 sibly at a period when she was surrounded 
 by all the charms that ranli, splendonr, and 
 wealth could bestow. The trembling girl 
 shuddered, as she vainly asked herself what 
 dreadful circumstance could have banished 
 her parent from such a home ; and no\r, 
 for the first time, the probability that slie 
 might have some relations in Venice oc- 
 curred to her mind. This idea gave rise 
 to others of the most agitating nature, 
 w^hich alternately coloured her cheek wilh 
 the flush of hope, or with the pale hue of 
 doubt and fear : but soon her feelings sub- 
 sided into the chilling calm of despondence, 
 at the conviction that she had not the 
 power of claiming the protection of any of 
 her relatives^ if indeed any of them might 
 q3
 
 12G 
 
 be inclined to succour her — a circumstance 
 which she apprehended, from tlie isolated 
 state of her mother^ she could have but 
 small reason to hope for. 
 
 Such were the mournful and embarras- 
 sing reflections which caused the hapless 
 Cecilia to pass over with vacant eye the 
 view of those splendid palaces which^ on 
 entering the grand canal, oifered to her 
 sight all the graces of architecture : their 
 balconies and porticoes were, however^ 
 now deserted^ except by a few domestics; 
 for the sun still shone in full splendour, and 
 the owners of those elegant mansions had 
 retired to repose till his influence should be 
 abated. 
 
 At length Cecilia was aroused from her 
 distressing reverie by the niarchcse, who^, 
 .suddenly informing her they were just on 
 the point of landing, directed her attention 
 towards the wide terrace and mai-ble co- 
 ionades of a magnihcent palace, which he 
 announced to her, as belonging to the pal- 
 lazo di Rovenza; and, in the next moment^ 
 the boat stopped before the steps of tli.e 
 terrace. A throng of domestics now ap- 
 proached ; and the marchcse^ taking the 
 hand of Cecilia, led her through a noble 
 vestibule into an apartment, where he, with 
 an air of much politeness, requested she 
 would wait the attendance of the female 
 superintendant of his household, who should 
 be immediately sent to her, while he him- 
 self should proceed to inform the marchesa 
 and her daughter of the circumstances
 
 127 
 
 which had induced him to ofler her the 
 protection of his familj. 
 
 Cecilia bowed in token of acknowledg- 
 ment, and themarcbese withdrew : but she 
 felt such a painful sense of her situation in- 
 creasing on her mind, that she could now 
 scarcely restrain the tear that would have re- 
 lieved her oppressed spirits. In the eftbrt to 
 repress her emotions, she cast her eyes round 
 the apartment ; but every mark of elegance 
 and w^ealth which now met her gaze, served 
 only to heighten a disgust of those splen- 
 did externals which can neither revsarcj the 
 virtues of, nor bcstov/ happiness on their 
 possessors. 
 
 Unaccustomed as was Cecilia to the view 
 t)f rich damask hangings, golden tripods^ 
 large mirrors, painted ccihngs,. and all the 
 furniture of highly ornamented apartments, 
 it is not surprizing that they should pos- 
 sess few attractions in the eyes of one, who, 
 had her mind been even free from the heavy 
 depression which at that moment preyed 
 upon it, would "have accounted the most 
 stately edifice, with all its luxuries, a far 
 inferior residence to the humblest cot, un« 
 less inhabited by peace and virtue. 
 
 The opening of the door, and the en- 
 trance of a respectable looking \toman, 
 whose aged countenance instantly struck 
 Cecilia as expressive of meekness and good 
 nature, relieved the latter from the painful 
 necessity of seeking to calm her perturba- 
 tion by the contemplation of uninteresting 
 objects. 
 
 g4
 
 128 
 
 Berina, for so was the liousekeepcr cal- 
 ledj addressed the young stranger with aa 
 air of respectful kindness, and informed 
 lier^ that she had been directed by the niar- 
 chese to conduct her to a chamber, as the 
 rnarchesa, and the signora her daughter, 
 had not yet arisen from their siesta. 
 
 Cecilia rose, and was conducted by Be- 
 rina across the vestibule, and up a spacious 
 marble staircase into an elegant chamber : 
 and now the housekeeper, suddenly recol- 
 lecting herself, apologized for not having 
 requested to know whether the young sig- 
 nora wished for any refreshments ; but Ce- 
 cilia speedily relieved the confusion of the 
 good woman, by assuring her that she liad 
 not the least inclination for any ; and then, 
 after timidly recommending Lodelli to her 
 care, begged that her servant might be 
 sent to her apartment, as soon as she had 
 rested and refreshed herself. '' But do not 
 inform her that I want her attendance be- 
 fore she has eaten/* added the admirable 
 Cecilia, '' lest her eagerness to obey my 
 wishes, should induce her to hurry ;'' 
 
 '' \h, young lady,*' exclaimed Berina, 
 " your consideration for a poor servant is 
 such a proof of a good and tender heart, 
 and a sweet and tender disposition, as few 
 can shew now-a-days, I fear:'* and the 
 good woman withdrew, with a look indi- 
 cative of so much admiration and pleasure, 
 that Cecilia remained confused and blushing 
 at her commendation ; yet she felt invo- 
 luntarily gratified by those praises which
 
 129 
 
 evinced a sensibility of what was just and. 
 proper in the mind of (he persoi who had 
 uttered theni^ even while it brought an 
 almost instant conviction to the mind of 
 Cecilia that the happiness or ease of the 
 Marchese di Rovenza's domestics was not 
 particularly attended to by some parts of 
 his family ; else wherefore should Brrina 
 perceive any merit in what this amiable 
 girl considered as the most pleasing of her 
 duties — the sweet task of endeavouring to 
 make every one aroutid her as comfortable 
 and happy as she could. 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 Cecilia did not long await the appear- 
 ance of Lodelli^ who, in less than a quar- 
 ter of an hour, entered the room, with a 
 countenance which expressed a whimsical 
 mixture of half-pieasant, half-vexatious 
 feelings, while she exclaimed, '^ Ah^ sig- 
 nora, how could you serve me so ? How 
 could you desire Berina to make me eat 
 heartily, and enjoy myself so, when you 
 were sitting here all alone^ so patient and 
 so sad, without any body to comfort you, 
 or keep you company ; and without any 
 refreshment too^ after all you have suf- 
 fered?^' 
 
 Cecilia now assured Lodelli that she had 
 not felt the least appetite for any things 
 and then inquired whether the Marchcsa 
 G 5
 
 130 
 
 di Rovcnza had jet quilted ber apart- 
 ment ? * 
 
 ^' No, signora, her excellenza has not; 
 but her principal woman has just been 
 summoned ; and Berina sajs^ it will not 
 be many moments before her lady will be 
 in one of the saloons. 
 
 A trembling anticipation of the inter- 
 view, which was now fast approaching, 
 between herself and the marchesa, seized 
 the mind of Cecilia, who could scarcely 
 refrain from shedding the involuntary 
 tears that now half dimmed her sight; 
 but instantly the recollection of her mo- 
 tlier's uncertain and fearful situation oc- 
 curred, and she resolutely sought to quell 
 the rising agitation, which threatened 
 entirely to overwhelm her spirits ; and di- 
 recting Lodelli to adjust her dress, she 
 prepared to attend the expected summons, 
 with as much composure as she could 
 assume. 
 
 Lodelli, who, notwithstanding all her na- 
 tive simplicity, was not a stranger to the 
 influence of first impressions, now hastily 
 opened the box which contained her young 
 lady's unadorned wardrobe, and selected 
 that which she knew became her best; and 
 then assisting Cecilia in the arrangement 
 of the bright and waviag tresses which 
 lumg neglected on her fair brow, enter- 
 fained her meanwhile with the observations 
 which she had already made on some of 
 tie num.erous household of the Marchese 
 d» Rovenza.
 
 131 
 
 *■•' It iseasy to see^ signora/' contiiiiTed 
 Lodclli — '^ it is quite easy to see, that not 
 one of the servants love any of the family^ 
 except it be the marchesa and the Signor 
 Leonardo; for they say he is not half so 
 proud as the signora, his sister, is; and 
 thoug-h he is terribly passionate sometimes, 
 yet, for all that, he is not ill-natured; for 
 he is quite sorry when the fit is over, and 
 will make any recompense in his power. 
 But that is not the case with the Signora 
 Ottavania, they tell me ; that is, she never 
 seems in such great passions as the signor, 
 but she never forgets or forgives any one 
 who offends her; and.altliough she can be 
 as rude and as cross as she pleases to others, 
 yet she'll never suffer any bodv to resent 
 it, if she can help it. Ah ! my dear 
 young lady, if you could but have seen 
 Roberto the butler, just now, as he was 
 giving me a cup of the best wine, look so 
 pitiful, when Berina was saying what *a 
 sweet, beautiful young creature, so mild, 
 and so gentle you seemed to be. Oh ! if 
 you had but seen him, how he shook his 
 head, and said he was sorry for it, as he 
 was sure you wouldn't be long happy here, 
 you would have thought him a good-na- 
 tured soul, signora ! However, they say 
 my lady marchesa is verv good ; and so, 
 my dear young lady, I will hops you won't 
 be quite so unhappy as one might almost 
 fear you must be, if one was to \ti one's 
 fears overcome one." 
 
 Cecilia^ who had listened to the begin-
 
 133 
 
 iiing of this speech of Lodelli's with no 
 very agreeable sensations, was rather gra- 
 tified by the conclusion^ as it represented 
 the marchesa as free from the defects which 
 characterised the rest of the fajiiily ; yet 
 she experienced no small degree of surprise 
 at the freedom with which the domestics 
 had delivered their opinions to Lodelli, 
 who was a stranger to them ; but, on re- 
 marking this to the latter^ she immediately 
 replied — 
 
 '' O dear signora, they don't think I will 
 tell ; and it was only after I had told Be- 
 rina how kind you were to me,, that they 
 began to talk; and I can promise yoU, my 
 dear young lady, that if the marchese and 
 his family are not loved, they are feared 
 enough by the servants; and you know, 
 signora, when people make themselves 
 raore feared than loved, they are soon hated ; 
 and then other folks are seldom given to 
 say much in their favour." 
 
 Cecilia made no remark on this obsep^ 
 vation of Lodelli's, but she silently ac- 
 quiesced in its truth, from the certain con- 
 viction that by kind and conciliating man- 
 ners alone we can secure the affection and 
 gratitude of good hearts, or soften the ma- 
 levolence ot" bad ones. Her thoughts now 
 quickly reverted to her beloved mother^ 
 and her eyes filled with tears of grief 
 and tenderness, while she remembered the 
 placid dignity, the condescending sweet- 
 ness, with which she had ever treated 
 her domestics.
 
 133 
 
 '' All, signora!'* sighed Lodelli, as she 
 watched the varying expression of Cecilia's 
 features, '' you are thinking of my dear 
 lady, the signora, your mother. Ay^ ay, 
 she was a pattern of goodness, indeed ; and 
 if one was sometimes awed-like by the line, 
 grand air she had, one had nothing to do 
 but look in her face, and then her beauti- 
 ful smile, so sweet, but so mournful, made 
 one love and respect her from one's heart. 
 But don't cry, my dear young mistress ; 
 pray now don't fret so," continued this af- 
 fectionate servant, even v/hile her voice 
 was broken with struggling with her own 
 tears ; then endeavouring to change the 
 subject, she added : '' But I have not 
 told you, signora, what was said of my lord, 
 the marchese." 
 
 Cecilia attempted to check her grief, and 
 Lodelli proceeded : — 
 
 '' Do you know, signora, that they say 
 the Marchese di Rovenza is of such an 
 odd kind of a temper, that nobody could 
 ever tell what to make of him ; and thej 
 say that " 
 
 The sudden entrance of Berina, to an- 
 nounce the Marchesa di Roveuza's wishes 
 to see Cecilia, immediately interrupted, 
 and closed for the present, the communi- 
 cations of Lodelli. 
 
 Cecilia now hastily finished dressing; 
 and the little bustle which her not being 
 quite ready occasioned^ relieved her spirits 
 frotO some part of the timid embarassment 
 and distress which^ at her time of life and
 
 134 
 
 ill such 'circumstances^ it was iaipossible 
 for her not to feel. 
 
 " Is the marchesa alone ?'* she inquired. 
 
 '' No, signora/' replied Berina ; '' the 
 marchese, the Sig-nora Ottavania^ and the 
 Signor Leonardo, are likewise in the sa- 
 loon.'^ 
 
 Cecilia secretly wished that the marchese 
 only might have been present : however, 
 she was reconciled by the idea that the 
 niarchese's family alone were waiting her 
 introduction. 
 
 Her dress being fully adjusted, she suf- 
 fered Berina to conduct her to the vesti- 
 bule, where one of the marchesa's male 
 domestics waited to announce her. 
 
 The folding doors of a magnificent 
 apartment were now thrown open ; and the 
 moment '/ the young lady'' was annou^nced, 
 the marchese eagerly stepped forward, and, 
 taking her hand, ted her into the saloon, at 
 the upper end of which appeared the Mar- 
 chesa di Rovenza seated, her son, leaning; 
 over the back of her chair, conversing with 
 her, andtheSignoraOttavania, half reclin- 
 ing on a sofa, at a small distance. 
 
 As the marchese approached, leading in 
 C( cilia, the marchesa arose, and Leonardo 
 retreated a few paces; while Ottavania;, 
 half starting from her position^ surveyed 
 the lovely young stranger with a scruti- 
 nizing stare of surprise, curiosity^ and ris- 
 ing envy. The looks of Leonardo partook 
 equally of amazement ; but pleasure and 
 admiration were as fully visible in his
 
 135 
 
 glances ; while in the mild eyes of ihe 
 marchesa gentle pity and benevolence were 
 predominant ; and she received the young 
 Cecilia with all that sweetness and grace 
 which spoke at once ihe excellence of her 
 heart, and the polished elegance of her 
 manners. It was^ however, an elegance of 
 manner resulting more from a mind highly- 
 cultivated, and good sense refined by sen- 
 sibility, than from the attainment of arti- 
 ficial and studied graces. There was, in- 
 deed, something so afFectingly kind in the 
 reception which the timid Cecilia experi- 
 enced* from the marchesa, that the latter 
 could scarcely restrain the grateful tear 
 wliich trembled beneath her downcast eye- 
 lashes, as that amiable lady promised her 
 not only her protectionj but gave her as- 
 surances that every possible exertion should 
 be made to discover the situation of her- 
 mother, and to punish the enemy, who had 
 so dariitgly dragged her from home But 
 if Cecilia had thus just cause for indulging 
 hopes of future happiness from the gentle 
 goodness of the Marchesa di Rovenza, she 
 had, how ever, no occasion for self-congra- 
 tulation in experiencing any mark of con- 
 sideration from the SignoraOttavania^ \yho^ 
 when the marchesa introduced her new 
 young protege etoihe notice of her daughter, 
 coldly bowed her head, and by a stubborn 
 and formal silence^ ^^^^J signified, that it 
 was not her intention to honour the young 
 unknown with any portion of her friend- 
 ship. Not so the Signor Leonardo; his
 
 136 
 
 animated looks and words^, as he ventured 
 to add his assurances to those of the mar- 
 chesa respecting the measures about to be 
 commenced for the discovery of the Sig- 
 nora di Berlotti, evidently bctrajed how 
 lively an interest Cecilia had alreadj ex- 
 cited in his breast. The Signer Leonardo's 
 professions of his wishes to serve her, Ce- 
 cilia could^ however, have sincerely dis- 
 pensed with ; for she felt both confused 
 and hurt at his manner of address, which, 
 though intended to be perfectly polite, was 
 yet tinctured with a degree of assured con- 
 fidence, not less new than disagreeable to 
 the chaste and delicate mind of the lovely 
 object of his but too apparent admiration. 
 But if the manners of the marchesa_, 
 and those of her son and daughter, were 
 so dissimilar from her own, their appear- 
 ance was hardly less so. The marchesa 
 was tall, and her figure still displayed 
 some faint traces of the symmetry and ele- 
 gance which had once distinguished it ; 
 but sorrow, more than time, had robbed 
 it of those charms; while from her once 
 lovely countenance was fled every attrac- 
 tion but those that result from the expres- 
 sion which mind alone can give, when 
 youth and bloom are wanting. Still this 
 amiable lady was highly interesting; and 
 the gentle dignity of her air, the pensive sor- 
 row of her looks, and her sweet-toned voice, 
 seldom failed of producing an irresistible 
 eifeet on those who possessed discernment 
 and sensibility to discover and appreciate
 
 137 
 
 her worth. Far different from that of the 
 marchesa was the person of Ottavania. 
 The latter was indeed tall and well-shaped ; 
 but there was a stiff, masculine formal itj 
 in her air, which disgusted the eye of the 
 beholder, and instantly conveyed the idea 
 of an anogant, unfeeling disposition, while 
 h^'r round dark eye was wholly destitute of 
 any expression of softness or sensibility. 
 Her eye-brow, howeverj which crossed her 
 contracted forehead in straight lines, she 
 carefully concealed with her hair, which 
 was dark ; and thus, by screening from 
 observation that most marking of the fea- 
 tures, she disguised some of the harshness 
 of the rest : her complexion was rather 
 sallow, but a high colour took from this 
 defect. On the whole, the Signora Otta- 
 vania would have been rather a striking 
 figure, had not the air of awkward hauteur, 
 which distinguished her, rendered her an 
 object of disgust rather than of admi- 
 ration. 
 
 The signora, however, could on some 
 occasions array her countenance in smiles ; 
 and it sometimes happened that those su- 
 perficial observers, whom it was her desire 
 to please, had often been deceived into an 
 opinion that she was a lively, good-natured 
 girl, till experience taught them to the 
 contrary, which seldom failed to be the 
 case when she had no longer any motive 
 for wishing to secure their esteem. But 
 as the development of her character will 
 fully take place in the incidents hereafter
 
 138 
 
 related, it is time to speak of the Signor 
 Leonardo. This young man was, a& he 
 had been represented to Lodeliij violent in 
 liis passioiis, yet generous and easily ap- 
 peased : but still he was a slave to the im- 
 pulse of the momeotj and, in consequence, 
 was alternately guilty and repentant twenty 
 times a day. In his person he possessed 
 an evident superiority over his sister ; for 
 his form was symmetrical, and his air 
 eas) — of course, graceful : his countenance 
 was both handsome and er^pressivc ; and if 
 his large dark eyes were but too ofterf 
 lighted up with the Jire of wrathful pas- 
 sions, they as often expressed all the sad- 
 ness of regret, and the iniploring look of 
 sorrow. In fact, Otlayania was depraved 
 in heart and principles, and therefore sys- 
 tematically wicked ; while Leonardo, from 
 a wrong course of education, and uncor- 
 rected habits, was in all things the slave 
 of impetuous feelings. 
 
 Into such a family the introduction of a 
 lovely young female, such as was Cecilia 
 di Berlotti, could not fail of being a cir- 
 cumstance botk dangerous for and unplea- 
 sant to herself, as she could not escape 
 being the object of the aft'ected contempt 
 and real envy of such a being as Ottavania, 
 nor one of attraction to Leonardo, who 
 had hitherto known no curb to his wishes. 
 
 The artless Cecilia, however, foresaw 
 not all these probable hazards and vexa- 
 tions ; and although hurt and embarrassed 
 by the chilling insolence of the Signora
 
 139 
 
 Ottayania's looks and manner, she yet ex- 
 perienced so soothing a gratification from 
 the tenderness of the niarchesa, that she 
 half resolved not to suffer the silly and 
 contemptible pride of her daughter to dis- 
 turb her spirits. 
 
 After the ceremony of introduction was 
 over, and Cecilia had learnt from the ex- 
 pressions of the marchesa, that that lady 
 was already informed of every particular 
 relative to her situation which was known 
 to the marchese, and had made her acknow- 
 edgments for those professions of friend- 
 ship and protection which were now la- 
 vishly bestowed upon her, she arose to 
 withdraw ; but the marchesa entreated her 
 to resume her seat, adding, '^ The mar- 
 chese, and my son and daughter, are en- 
 gaged fgr the evening ; and as I am not 
 well enough to join the party, I shall feel 
 myself relieved by your society from a so- 
 litary and melancholy evening. Besides^ 
 my young friend, I must not permit you to 
 fly to the indulgence of the grief and an- 
 xiety which, the marchese assures me, have 
 depressed your spirits during your journey 
 hither.'^ 
 
 Charmed by the complacent mildness of 
 the marchesa's manner, Cecilia instantly 
 declared that nothing could so effectually 
 contribute to soothe her own troubles, as 
 the being permitted to be near her amiable 
 protectress. 
 
 While Cecilia spoke, the eyes of Leo- 
 nardo were rivetted on her lovely and ex-
 
 140 
 
 pressive countenance^, now animated bjtlie 
 warm emotions of gratitude ; and as^ with 
 increasing surprise^ be marked the unaf- 
 fected gracefnhiess and ease of her de- 
 meanor^ he ahuost exclaimed aloud : '' Can 
 this be the country girl from the banks of 
 the Lago Maggiore?" But what involun- 
 tary respect prevented him from uttering, 
 Ottavania soon expressed by saying: — 
 '' Pray, young woman, had you no other 
 instructor m your cottage than your mo- 
 ther?'' 
 
 Infinitely more hurt by the rudeness of 
 this address than was the blushing Cecilia, 
 the marchesa, darting a glance of reproof 
 at her daugliter, said : '' The superior in- 
 tellectual knowledge and rare accomplish- 
 ments of the Signora di Berlotti would 
 have rendered any other instructor than 
 herself unnecessary to this lovely young 
 lady; but you will recollect, Ottavania, 
 that the marchese has informed us, that 
 the Signora Cecilia had another preceptor 
 in the prior of St. Ambrose, and is there- 
 fore, no doubt, well informed on subjects 
 to which we are strangers." 
 
 Ottavania, colouring highly, arose, and 
 walked towards tlie door, while, with the 
 sneer of malicious envy distorting her lip, 
 she said : '' I really did not mean to offend 
 the Sig — no — ra Cecilia*' ( and she drawled 
 the word signora in a tone of contemptuous 
 bitterness), "' by any hitimation that I 
 doubted the perfection of her accomplish- 
 ments." Then with an insolent glance at
 
 141 
 
 the now astonished and confused ohject of 
 her spleen, she haughtily brushed from 
 the room, instantly followed bj her bro- 
 ther, whose voice, raised high in the ac- 
 cents of indignation, left no doubt that he 
 had quitted the apartment to reproach her 
 for the mean insolence of her conduct. 
 
 The distress and embarrassment of Ce- 
 cilia were so much heightened by hearing 
 the Signor Leonardo's reproving tones 
 echoing through the lofty vestibule, that 
 she was nearly unconscious of the slight 
 apology which the raarchese now made to 
 her for his daughter's behaviour ; nor was 
 it till after he had withdrawn, to endea- 
 vour to terminate the dissension between 
 the brother and sister, and that she found 
 herself alone with the marchesa, that she 
 recovered in some degree from the surprise 
 and perplexity into which she had been 
 thrown. But the tremulous voice of the 
 marchesa soon awakened all her feelings, 
 and as she now raised her eyes to the face 
 of that amiable woman, and beheld the 
 tears of shame and displeasure fall on her 
 pale cheek, she forgot the insult she had 
 received; and, with an almost filial tender- 
 ness, essayed to sooth the wounded spirits 
 of this but too evidently unhappy parent. 
 
 The marchesa received these consolatory 
 attentions with looks which testified the 
 grateful satisfaction of her heart, while 
 yet, in low and broken accents, she con- 
 tinued to apologize for her daughter, who.
 
 142 
 
 she lamented, had been most fatally fixed 
 in error by the uncontroled indulgence of 
 the marchese. 
 
 Cecilia listened in silence and surprise: 
 she could not palliate what it was impos- 
 sible not to condemn; and she felt inex- 
 pressibly shocked at the conviction that 
 any other sentiments but those of affection 
 and respect for each other could exist in 
 the bosoms of such near relatives. 
 
 From the painful necessity of replying 
 to the marchesa on such a subject, she was 
 soon relieved by the re-appearance of the 
 Signor Leonardo, who^ with a countenance 
 still crimsoned with his recent angry feel- 
 ings, entered the room, and saying, he 
 was the bearer of Ottavania's regrets for 
 the temporary impetuous rudeness she had 
 been guilty of. offered apologies in her 
 name to his mother and Cecilia. 
 
 The marchesa turned away with a sigh, 
 which seemed to say she derived little plea- 
 sure from excuses for a conduct which 
 would be soon repeated, while Cecilia ti- 
 midly assured the signor that she could not 
 possibly consider the inadvertence of the 
 signora as an intentional offence, and there- 
 fore was perfectly inclined to remember it 
 no more. Leonardo gazed on her with 
 rapture, while he exclaimed: " \ou are 
 all goodness; gentle, and indulgent 
 yourself, you merit, signora, the highest 
 respect and consideration from others ; and, 
 certainly, ray sister can never more forget
 
 U3 
 
 that by such conduct she cannot humiliate 
 you, but must inevitably sink herself even 
 below contempt." 
 
 He then turned towards the marchesa, 
 and after informing her that the marchese 
 and Ottavania had already entered their 
 gondola, and waited his attendance, grace- 
 fully bade his adieu, and departed ; but 
 the lingering* glances with which he re- 
 garded the unconscious Cecilia, fully be- 
 trayed the regret he experienced at being 
 compelled to quit her society so soon. 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 For some moments after his departure, 
 neither the marchesa nor Cecilia spoke. 
 At length, the former, evidently recover- 
 ing from the melancholy perturbation which 
 she had struggled to endure while there 
 was a possibility of Ottavania's returning 
 into the apartment, said: '' And now, my 
 amiable Cecilia — now that I am blest with 
 the certainty of a transient hour of freedom 
 from almost incessant cause for vexation 
 and trouble, will you retire with me to 
 those apartments more peculiarly my own, 
 and indulge the anxious curiosity of my 
 sorrow-weakened mind, by recounting to 
 me some particulars of your early years ? 
 I mean your usual mode of life — studies 
 and amusements. I do not fear to suffer 
 you to speak to me en these subjects. It
 
 144 
 
 is true^ they may recal in you a thousand 
 tender and interesting recollections ; but 
 to a well-regulated mind, the remembrance 
 of a virtuous and happy childhood is a 
 luxury which cannot be embittered with 
 vain regrets, when we consider that it is 
 our duty to receive the cup of sorrow with 
 resignation from the hand of that Being 
 from whom we have also received the cup 
 of blessing/' 
 
 Cecilia silently acquiesced in the justice 
 of the marchesa's pious observations; but 
 the recollection of her happy years of 
 childhood, and her present situation, 
 formed so sad a contrast, that she trembled 
 at the task of detailing circumstances so 
 deeply interesting to her heart, lest she 
 should find herself utterly incapable of 
 €ubduing those keen emotions of sorrow 
 and regret, which she well knew a recital 
 of past events must excite in her breast. 
 But Cecilia was equally incapable of 
 refusing the first request of the marchesa, 
 and therefore she hesitated not to declare 
 her readiness to comply with that lady's 
 v^^ishes. 
 
 The marchesa then arose, and affection- 
 ately taking the hand of her yoimgpi^otegee, 
 led her through the vestibule, and up the 
 marble stairs, to an elegant suite of rooms. 
 Several female attendants were in waiting 
 in the anti-room; and in the next apart- 
 ment a collation of fruits, sweetmeats, 
 ices, and coffee, was served. Of these re- 
 freshments Cecilia partook with the mar- 
 
 I
 
 14j 
 
 chesa ; after which they retired to the 
 dressing-room beyond the magnificent bed- 
 chamber of the amiable lady of the mansion. 
 
 '' Here, ' said the marchesa^ as she mo- 
 tioned to Cecilia to take a sear beside her 
 on a sofa^ placed near one of the windows 
 which admitted a partia) view of the canal, 
 and the opposite palaces, through the 
 flower-scented branches of numerous exo- 
 tics which, ranged in^marble vases, adonied 
 the gilded balconies: " here we shalt be 
 free from ail intruders ; and by an unre- 
 served and mutual communication of our 
 thoughts, cement that friendship which 
 the disparity of our ages will not prevent 
 our induig ng \ for I feel assured that the 
 mind of Cecilia di BLrlotti seeks more in 
 friendship thaii the mere interchange of 
 those trivial sentinients which but too often 
 form the basis of youthful cov.fidence. 
 What say you, my young friend ?" 
 
 '^ Whai can I say, madam ? What lan- 
 guage could do justice to the feelings 
 which your condescending goodness in- 
 spires me with ? Unknown and unfortunate 
 as I am, I am net more sensible of tl.ehigh 
 honour your friendship c^^nfers on me, than 
 I am grateful for that tone of benevolent 
 kindness vNitb which you deign to address 
 rae ; while your ejes, beaming b'^nignant 
 compassion, assure me that I have every 
 thing to hope for u\y mother and myself 
 from the sincerity and ardour of the friendly 
 sentiments which you so graciously profess 
 forme.** 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 
 
 The marchese smiled. '' Ah!*' she ex- 
 claimed ; '' if mj little jirotegee should 
 think many more such speeches necessary 
 to make me understand her ieielings, I shall 
 half suspect that her holy tutor was not 
 deficient in the art of delicate flattery. 
 Butj to be serious, Cecilia/' she added, 
 ^' I will make no more professions of the 
 esteem and affection which I already feel 
 for you ; and so now we will dismiss the 
 subject^ and you shall briefly relate to me 
 the manner in which you have hitherto 
 passed your days." The marchesa then 
 asked numerous questions concerning the 
 usual habits of the Signora di Berlotti and 
 her family ; and, from the answers of Ce- 
 cilia, soon learned, that amid all the mys- 
 terious silence which her mother had iQ 
 general thought proper to obserVe respect- 
 ing her real name and family, she had^ 
 however, educated her daughter in a man- 
 ner which would render her capable of 
 filling the most exalted station. 
 
 Cecilia, who had expected that she 
 should have been under the necessity of 
 entering into a long and painful detail of 
 every incident of her early life, felt consi- 
 derably relieved by the well-managed en- 
 quiries of the marchesa, who, when she 
 found her young protegee tempted, by the 
 tcndi rness of fond regret, to dwell longer 
 tlian was necessary on some points, always 
 diverted her attention by some new ques- 
 tion, thus preventing the full influence of 
 those afi'ecting recollections w^hich sprung
 
 147 
 
 to the heart of Cecilia, as she tremulously 
 told of some instance of maternal love, of 
 piety, of charity, and kindness, which, 
 while they portrayed the character of the 
 Signora di Berlotti in the most amiable 
 light, failed not to convince the marchesa 
 that she deserved all the tender enthusiasm 
 of the filial love with which her daughter 
 mentioned her name. \\ hen, however, 
 Cecilia, in lower and more hesitating ac- 
 cents, spoke of Orazio Angel o's introduc- 
 tion to the cottage, and, with pallid looks 
 denoting fear, described the robber An- 
 gelo, and his singular conduct, the mar- 
 cliesa could no longer, notwithstanding her 
 nice discrimination, define the feelings of 
 her young pvolcgce, in the expression of 
 whose varying countenance, terror, griof, 
 struggling atlcction, and shame, were so 
 mingled, that no one emotion was so legi- 
 bly imprinted, as to be intelligible to tlie 
 eye of the nicest observation. But when 
 Cecilia, embarrassed by the penetrating- 
 look with which the marchesa regarded 
 her, became even more confused, and 
 ceased to speak, a sudden suspicion of the 
 truth struck on the mind of her frieiid^ 
 and, after a little pause, she asked — 
 '' Was this young Orazio handsome?" 
 A deeper blush sufl'used the cheeks of 
 Cecilia, as, struggling to attain an appear- 
 ance of composure, she hesitatingly replied — 
 *"" 1 don't know^ — I believe he was — that 
 is, lie seemed very amiable, and — — •'* 
 Aiid now this lovely girl, overpowered bv 
 u2
 
 148 
 
 the effort she had made to conquer the in- 
 nate ingenuousness of her hearty hurst into 
 tears ; and^ hiding her face with her trem- 
 bling hands, wept in silence, thus leaving 
 the marchesa in no doubt as to the nature 
 of the sentiments with which the mysterious 
 Orazio had inspired her artless bosom. 
 
 Deeply affected, this amiable woman 
 now took the chilling hand of Cecilia in 
 her own, and, without affecting to have 
 discovered her secret, attempted to soothe 
 her agitated spirits ; and declaring that she 
 would not permit her to continue a con- 
 versation so evidently distressing to her, 
 endeavoured to abstract the thoughts of 
 Cecilia from the subject of her present un- 
 easiness, by speaking of several circum- 
 stances, indifferent in themselves, indeed, 
 but, as they related to the Marchese di 
 Rovenza, and the family at the pallazo, 
 were rather calculated to withdraw the 
 attention of her young protegee from the 
 torturing reflections which had seized her 
 mind. Cecilia, soon recovering from her 
 distress and embarrassment, so far con- 
 quered her feelings as to be able to listen, 
 with an appearance of composure, to the 
 marchesa, whose conversation revealed 
 many traits of character in her lord, which 
 could scarcely fail of being interesting to 
 her young friend. 
 
 *' The marchese,'* continued his lady 
 with a deep sigh, '' although in some 
 points of his disposition as inexplicable to 
 me, as to all who know him, is not defi-
 
 149 
 
 cient in some qualities which should belong-' 
 to his rank and situation. He diffuses his 
 wealth with judicious liberality; but he is 
 neither ostentatious nor extravagant: his 
 temper is equals but cold, and his usual 
 habits those of taciturnity and reserve. 
 Of you only has he spoken in more ani- 
 mated terms than ever I have heard him 
 use, and his avowed conviction, that you 
 are nobly descended, will, I trust, at length 
 ensure to you that respect from Ottavania, 
 which, I fear, she would not otherwise 
 feel inclined to shew you '* 
 
 '• And wherefore is the marchese so well 
 convinced that I have claims to nobility of 
 rank, madam?" timidly enquired Cecilia. 
 
 '' Your education, the description of 
 your mother's manners, and the mystery 
 which it is evident she used respecting her 
 early life, together with the presumption 
 that were she a person of no consequence, 
 she could have no motive for such a line 
 of conduct, nor be subjected to the male- 
 volence of the powerful foe who has torn 
 lier from her home. These are circum- 
 stances which form a reasonable foundation 
 for the marchese 's opision, that your fa- 
 mily is really of exalted rank. But now 
 we are on this subject^ allow me to ask, 
 did not the signora ever inform you of your 
 real name ?" 
 
 Cecilia hesitated. She remembered the 
 
 recital her mother had commenced when 
 
 she was interrupted by the arrival of the 
 
 Signer Malvezzi ; but she knew not who-- 
 
 h3
 
 150 
 
 ther she was at liberty to mention the re- 
 ference her mother had then made to her fa- 
 mil y. At lengthy after a few moment's con- 
 sideration^ she said: '^ To you, marchesa, 
 I believe I may confess that my mother 
 once told me her family was noble and 
 wealthy, and that she had once resided in 
 Venice." 
 
 The marchesa now appeared rather agi- 
 tated. '' Are you acquainted with your 
 real nam.e, Cecilia ?" she asked. 
 
 " No^ madam." 
 
 '' Wellj theU;, for your own sake, it 
 will be best never to mention to any other 
 person what you have just related to me^ 
 as — as they might discredit it'. Do not 
 even acknowledge it to the marchese, lest 
 your not being able to give him a full ac- 
 count of yourselfj should injure you. 
 Promise me that you will not; for be as- 
 sured it may alter his favourable opinion 
 of you/' 
 
 Cecilia's own prudence accorded with 
 this request, as she thought it not proper 
 again to reveal a circumstance, which she 
 felt inclined to imagine her mother might 
 wish to be concealed. 
 
 " I do promise, madam," she said. 
 
 '' But how came you not to speak of 
 this incident to the marchcse, at the time 
 when he first so particularly questioned 
 you on the subject of your mother's fa- 
 mily?" 
 
 '' Because the agitation of my spirits at 
 that time rendered me, perhaps, unable to
 
 151 
 
 comprehend the extent of his enquiries. J 
 thinks the marchese desired to know the 
 name of my mother : I could not inform 
 him ; but I referred him to the Father 
 Ascollini, who^ as my mother's^ confessor,, 
 I imagined was acquainted with her his- 
 tory; and wiien it proved that he was un- 
 acquainted with her former circumstances, 
 I feared to speak further on the subject,'* 
 
 '^ You did right. To have merelj said 
 that your family was noble^ and had re- 
 sided in Venice^ couhl have furnished no 
 information which could have led to the 
 discovery of your mother's enemy ; as it is 
 evidcFit, by the marchese and myself being 
 unacquainted with his title, which is a 
 German one, that he is a stranger in this 
 country; and 'tis highly probable- that 
 your own family are not Italians.'' 
 
 Cecilia, now recollecting that she had 
 heard her mother converse with some pil- 
 grims in the German language, was almost 
 inclined to believe that her mother was a 
 native of Germany ; but as she could not 
 speak decidedly on this pointy and did not 
 think proper to intrude her surmises on 
 the attention of the marchesa, she remained 
 silent. 
 
 Meanwhile the Marchesa di Rovenza 
 seemed occupied by some internal uneasi- 
 ness ; but at length she suddenly ex- 
 claimed : '' And now, Cecilia, we will 
 speak no more on your affairs : you have 
 indulged me with some interesting accounts 
 of your happt/ cottage, and I, in return, 
 H 4
 
 152 
 
 wiil acquaint you with some of the secrets 
 of my unhappy hurne." Sighing;,, ar^d 
 brushing away a tear^ she ccntinufisd : 
 *^ The marchese and myself^ you will si>on 
 perceive, are a perfcrtly poliie couple: 
 we married without love on either side, 
 and are therefore conterct to dispense with 
 the aifectation of sentimerts which we do 
 not feel. In short, we are the most polite 
 pair in Venice; but, alas! (her tone now 
 varied to that of deep sorrow) the mar- 
 chese's politeness is not iiiherited by his 
 rhildren, nor does he appear to think it 
 necessary that such a qualification should 
 be possessed by them. Both educated at 
 a distance from me, they neither love nor 
 revere me as they ought to do. Ottavania, 
 indeed, does not even affect to treat me 
 with respect, nor do I believe I shall ever 
 possess her affection. But of Leonardo I 
 have better hopes : his heart is not de- 
 praved, and he already begins to conduct 
 himself towards me with that considerate 
 attention, which leads me to indulge the 
 soothing prospect of being blessed with the 
 filial regard of one of my children; 
 but . '' 
 
 Shocked beyond the power of language 
 to express by i)\e description the unhappy 
 marchesa was giving, Cecilia uttered a 
 deep, involuntary sigh. 
 
 The marchesa started, and paused. She 
 had been leaning on the arm of the couch 
 • — her eyes fixed mournfully on the floor as 
 she conversed ; but now she raised them
 
 lo3 
 
 on Cecilia; and, reading in tlie pale but 
 expressive countenance of the lovely girl 
 all the horror her commencing detail had 
 excited, burst into tears, exclaiming — 
 
 " Ah! my young friend, you despise 
 me ! You ask, how can this miserable mo- 
 ther be an object of indifference to her 
 children, unless her own misconduct has 
 deprived her of their affections ? — But this 
 is not the case." 
 
 Cecilia's distress was now increased ; she 
 solemnly protested that her involuntary 
 sigh was occasioned by her astonishment 
 and sorrow at finding that a mother so 
 amiable could be thus neglected. 
 
 '' Alas!" said the marchesa, '' it is but 
 lately that my unfortunate and mistaken 
 children have resided at the pallazo. The 
 marchese, indulging an erroneous idea that 
 were he to have suffered them to have imbibed 
 sentiments of afl'ection for their mother, 
 they might prove less conformable to his 
 will than he wished them to be, removed 
 them at an infant age from my arms, and 
 confided them to the care of strangers, in- 
 structed to train them to respect him only, 
 and to consider him as the future ruler of 
 their destinies, which, they were taught, 
 would be splendid or miserable, in pro- 
 portion as they should yield implicit obe- 
 dience to his will. In vain have I remon- 
 strated on the folly of a plan which was so 
 evidently calculated to render these devoted 
 beinc;s equally unamiable and miserable. 
 -The naarchese has constantly replied : *' If 
 H 5
 
 they are tauglit obedience to both parents^ 
 they will never know which to obey ; and 
 as i do not choose to run the hazard of 
 encountering any opposition to the plans 
 which I may form for their establishment^ 
 they shall early be convinced that it is to 
 me alone they must look for every thing.' 
 In vain I represented that their affection 
 for their mother could not interfere with 
 his views: Rovenza was obstinate in his 
 intentions, and I am doomed to behold my 
 unfortunate children the victims of his 
 strange caprice. Ottavania, in the con- 
 vent in which she has been educated, has 
 had all her evil propensities fostered : she 
 seems to have been told, that pride is dig- 
 nity ; ambition, greatness of mind; and 
 overweening insolence, and sullen haughti- 
 ness of manners, the characteristic marks 
 of noble birth. — But what am I saying?" 
 exclaimed the raarchesa. Then suddenly 
 rising, she paced the room in an agony of 
 grief, faintly articulating : *' Oh, wretched 
 mother ! that thou should'st live to record 
 tlie vices, of thy child " 
 
 After a few moments she became rather 
 calm ; and again seating herself on the 
 «ofa beside Cecilia, who, trembhng and 
 horror-stricken, had not power to attempt 
 consoling her, she said— 
 
 '' Cecilia di Berlotti, a model of filial 
 piety herself, shrinks in dismay from the 
 knowledge of the crimes of others ; and^ 
 no doubt, wonders that a mother's tongue 
 ran condemn, or reveal the errors of her
 
 155 
 
 child. Alas ! had there been a possibility 
 of concealing my misfortunes, I had not 
 even revealed them unto you ; but you will 
 behold sad proofs of my misery, and it was 
 only to spare you the shock which I feel 
 you will receive, that I have thus a^'onized 
 my heart by attempting to account for, and 
 prepare you fur scenes which you may not 
 avoid witnessing here.'" 
 
 Cecilia now x^ntreated that the marchesa 
 would not jrive herself anv further uneasi- 
 ness by entering into painful explanations 
 on subjects of wliich, as a stranger^ she 
 could not presume to form a judgment. 
 
 '' But/' added the amiable girl, " I 
 must indulge the hope that time may ame- 
 liorate ihese distressing circumstances; 
 for as tke signor and signora become 
 better acquainted with the amiable quali- 
 ties of their too much neglected parent^ 
 they will be seiisible of their impitty and 
 injustice; and the conviction that they are 
 wrong will speedily induce them to make 
 some atonement/* 
 
 '' Lovely asigeli;" girl 1" now exclaimed 
 a voice near the door, and in the next 
 moment Leonardo stood before the asto- 
 nished Cecilia, who, rising \n ailVight, 
 would have retreated,^ but he passionately 
 caught her hand ; and, throwing himself 
 at ttip feet of his mother, exclaimed- — 
 
 *' Entreat, 1 beseech you, madam, this 
 angel to remain and witness iny contrition 
 and my vows, — I have for some time been 
 a concealed listeiier to your discourse. Let
 
 156 
 
 the sincerity with which I make this con- 
 fession plead my excuse for such a mean- 
 ness, and believe me, madam, when I 
 declare that my heart has been pierced 
 by the knowledge of your sufferings, and 
 that henceforth I can never cease to re- 
 gard you with that love and veneration 
 which you so justly merit from an un- 
 worthy son, who has too long been a 
 stranger to your inestimable qualities/* 
 
 Agiiated, trembling, doubting, and 
 almost afraid to yield to the impulses of 
 her heart, the marchesa gazed on the ani- 
 mated countenance of her son, who, still 
 kneeling at her feet, implored that forgive- 
 ness, which the sincerity that beamed from 
 his eyes declared he merited. Bending over 
 hini, this aifectioiiate mother received his 
 filial embrace, and as she tremulously 
 whi-pered a brnediction, the first tears of 
 maternal love fell rn his glowing cheek. 
 
 A silent, but agitited witness of this 
 unexpected scene, Cecilia, v^hile tears of 
 sympathy and delight hu»»g glittering on 
 her silken eye-lashfs, stood regarding the 
 reconciliation of these near relatives, and 
 looked, indeed, the angel of peace; till 
 Leonardo, starting up, bowed to his 
 mother and herself, and then hastily wiOi- 
 drew, evidently to conceal emotions so new 
 and pleasing to his heart. 
 
 The marchesa followed his receding 
 form, with eyes beaming all of affection and 
 hope ; then said— ^ 
 
 ''■ Rejoice with me my amiable, my in-
 
 157 
 
 estimable young friend — rejoice with me 
 on the restoration of my son. I may now 
 hope that my declining days may be bless- 
 ed with those tender- attentions which 
 filial love bestows on drooping age/' 
 
 Cecilia did^ indeed^ rejoice with the 
 marchesa; and, inexperienced as she was, 
 augured the most favourable result from 
 the delicacy with which Leonardo had 
 withdrawn to avoid a further display of 
 his feelings. A summons to supper, how- 
 ever, prevented any further observation on 
 this pleasing event ; and the servant, who 
 came to say that supper waited, informed 
 the marchesa that the marchese and the 
 Lady Ottavania would pass the night at 
 the villa of the friend whom they went to 
 visit. 
 
 The marchesa and Cecilia then descend- 
 ed to the supper-room, at the door of 
 which they were met by Leonardo, whose 
 featurrs still exhibited traces of agitation; 
 but he led his mother to the head of the 
 table with an air of unostentatious tender- 
 ness, and his manners at once easy and re- 
 spectfully attentive, evinced that his reform 
 V as not likely to prove mere momentary 
 enthusiasm. Towards Cecilia his deport- 
 ment wa^ perfectly polite, and if his eyes 
 too frequently expressed the admiration he 
 fi U for her, she was not embarrassed by 
 1( oks, which he took care should not meet 
 her observation. 
 
 On the marchesa's enquiry what had oc- 
 casioned his not accompanying his father
 
 158 .- 
 
 and Ottavanla to the villa di Rossi^ he 
 replied, that while he had returned into the 
 pallazo to offer his sister's apologies for 
 the offence she had given the young Sig- 
 nora di Borlotti, the marchese had ordered 
 the gondola to put off without him, after 
 directing a servant to inform him that he 
 would excui^e his attendance at the villa di 
 Rossi that evening, and that both himself 
 and Ottavania would pass a week there, 
 '' I was rather discomposed by the abrupt 
 determination of the marchese," added 
 Leonardo, " and did not therefore return 
 immediately into the pallazo/' 
 
 The marchesa now easily comprehended 
 that her lord had been displeased with his 
 son's warm interference respecting the 
 affront offered to Cecilia by Ottavania, and 
 had, doubtless, at the instigation of the 
 latter, declined Leonardo's accompanying 
 them, a circumstance by no means unlike- 
 ly, as his dai;ghter was peculiarly his 
 favorite. Fortunately thivs idea did not 
 occur to Cecilia; who, prepared for the 
 caprices of the family, did not attribute 
 the conduct of the marchese in dismissing 
 his son, to any other cause than the mere 
 whim of the moment. As soon as supper 
 was ended, and Cecilia could with propriety 
 arise, she requested the marchesa's per- 
 mission to retire, pleading, in excuse for 
 this request, fatigue and indisposition. 
 
 The marchesa, instantly reproaching 
 herself for having so long detained her 
 fair protegee from that repose which she
 
 159 
 
 so much required^ gave orders that the 
 Signora di Berlotti should be attended to 
 lier room ; and Cecilia, after giving and 
 receiving mutual wishes of good repose, 
 withdrew, followed by the ardent glances 
 of Leonardo, who attended her to the 
 vestibule, and then returned to the mar- 
 chesa, with whom he sat conversing till a 
 late hour; evincing both by his looks and 
 the ingenuous confession of the faults to 
 which he was most inclined — the sincerity 
 of his intentions to forsake those habits 
 and prejudices^ which his reason could 
 not fail to condemn ; and his earnest wish 
 of henceforward regarding the marchesa 
 as the guardian who should guide his ac- 
 tions ; and, by her sacred admonitions, 
 rescue him from the influence of the pas- 
 sions. 
 
 Leonardo di Rovenza was, indeed, un- 
 ft ignedly sincere in his professions; but it 
 is but too probable, that had he not been 
 seized with the most ardent and unbounded 
 admiration of tbe young Cecilia di Ber- 
 lotti, he would not so soon have perceived 
 the criminality of the opinions in which 
 he had been educated, nor judged an im- 
 mediate reform necessary. 
 
 When his anger at his father's departing 
 without him had subsided, he began to 
 rejoice in the opportunity, then so unex- 
 pectedly afforded him, of passing the even- 
 ing in the society of his mother and her 
 \oye\y protegee ; but when he returned to 
 the saloon where he had left them, he
 
 160 
 
 was informed that the raarchesa had re- 
 tired with the young lady to her pri- 
 vate apartments ; and unwilling to in- 
 trude himself into a retirement which he 
 had never yet visited^ he anxiously waited 
 the re-appearance of his mother and Ce- 
 cilia; but their lengthened absence being 
 more than he had patience to support, 
 he proceeded to the marchesa's dressing- 
 roonij where he, on enquiry^ had been 
 informed she then was, and from a door 
 which opened on the principal corridor^ 
 he overheard most of the conversation 
 which the marchesa held respecting the 
 unhappiness which her children's want of 
 duty and affection caused her. He had 
 not long listened ere he felt the strongest 
 emotions of mingled shame, remorse, and 
 affection rise in his bosom, together with 
 admiration for the character of Cecilia, in 
 whom he now found filial piety was a pre- 
 dominant virtue. These contending feel- 
 ings were soon succeeded by the generous 
 enthusrasm, which, rendering him inca- 
 pable of attending to the suggestions of 
 false pride or shame, impelled him to throw 
 himself at the feet of his injured parent, 
 and vow to pursu^^ that conduct which he 
 now felt could alone secure him the esteem 
 of Cecilia. 
 
 This was the first action of Leonardo's 
 life that had been crowned with the sweet 
 reward which the consciousness of having 
 perform-d a saciedd- ty confers ; and when 
 he retired to his chamber, bis reflexions
 
 161 
 
 were the most pleasing he had ever experi- 
 enced. He already felt that he had risen 
 ii. ttie estimation of the joung strarger;, 
 at d thai he had, in the marchesa, his mo- 
 thM\, secured to himself an affectionate 
 friend, whose virtues now appeared to him 
 in their proper light. As to the mysterious 
 cif umstances of Cecilia, they affected him 
 not : she was exquisitely beautiful, accom- 
 pHslied, probably nobly-born, and, under 
 the protection of the marchesa ; and, as he 
 promised himself a thousand opportunities 
 of inspiring her with sentiments similar to 
 those which filled his own bosom, he lulled 
 all rising doubts and fears by the flattering 
 hope which whispered him not to despair. 
 
 CHAP. XXIII. 
 
 Nearly a week elapsed ere the- return 
 of the marchese and his daughter, during 
 which time Leonardo uninterruptedly en- 
 joyed the fascinating society of Cecilia, 
 and added his unwearied efforts to those of 
 his amiable mother, to sooth and console 
 the suspensive sorrow with which the in- 
 certitude and alarm that she suffered res- 
 pecting the situation of her mother op- 
 pressed the mind of this lovely girl. 
 
 The arrival of the marchese and Otta- 
 vania at length put a period to these compa- 
 ratively peaceful hours. It is true, Ro- 
 venza still addressed his young guest with
 
 162 
 
 marked attention ; but bis daugbter varied 
 not from the cold baugbtiness usual in ber 
 manner. On tbe evening after tbeir re- 
 turn^ bowever^ a circumstance occurred 
 wbicb relieved tbe grief of Cecilia^ and 
 rendered ber more sensible of tbe kind con^ 
 sideration tbat sbe received from ber new 
 protectress. On retiring to ber cbamber 
 for tbe nigbt, sbe bad found Lodelli, as : 
 usual, in waiting ; and while listening to 
 tbe loquacious prattle of ber attendant, sbe 
 glanced ber eyes on a sealed packet, wbicb 
 sbe accidentally perceived on the dressing 
 table. Hastily examining the direction, 
 sbe saw, with surprise ex ire me, that it was 
 addressed to herself. An exclamation of 
 astonishment fell from her lips, and, sud- 
 denly turning to Lodelli, she demanded 
 from whom the packet bad been received. 
 
 Lodelli stared, and said she bad never 
 seen it before. Cecilia then directed her 
 to inquire among tbe servants of tbe pal- 
 lazo. 
 
 '^ Dear signora, bad'nt you better see or 
 read what is in it first," said Lodelli; and 
 Cecilia tore open tbe envelope. It con- 
 tained two letters. Sbe opened that which 
 was uppermost, but bad nearly fainted on 
 reading these words : — 
 
 " Angelo Guicciardini informs Cecilia 
 di Berlotti, that the signora, her mother, is 
 now in perfect safety. Tbe continuance of 
 tbat safety may depend on ber daughter's 
 preserving the strictest silence on this
 
 point. Lest the word of the robber Angelo 
 should not be sufficient to convince Cecilia 
 of her mother's welfare^ a letter from the 
 signora herself is inclosed.'* 
 
 Trembling, faltering, her breath almost 
 suspended by the wild and joyful eager- 
 ness of her feelings, Cecilia now snatched 
 up the second letter. It Wt:s indeed -the 
 hand-writing of her beloved mother. The 
 first lines were expressive only of the feel- 
 ings of the writer : they were words of 
 fondness, of rapture and maternal anxiety ; 
 the paper was blotted seemingly with 
 tears. Cecilia, as she endeavoured to 
 rcad^ almost bHnded her sight. '' Ever- 
 loved, ever-duteous, adored child, fain 
 would I express to thee, my exulting heart's 
 best treasure, the joy I feel in being per- 
 mitted to address and assure you of my 
 safety; but my happiness renders me nearly 
 incoherent. I wish to tell my Cecilia that 
 I have endured no sufferings but those hor- 
 rible mental agonies with which my dread 
 for. her safety oppresses me. I desire to 
 explain to her those circumstances of my 
 past life which would develop to her the 
 cause of our present separation and dis- 
 tresses ; but this is not a time for explana- 
 tion. Feeling that the assurance of my 
 perfect safety will sufficiently calm the un- 
 happiness which my Cecilia must have en- 
 dured, I will confine myself to telling her^ 
 that I have been rescued from the power of
 
 184 
 
 ray inveterate fne^ whose wounds, even if 
 thpy should net prove mortal, will for some 
 time deprive him of the power of personally 
 exerti'ig himself to discover my retreat. 
 My preserver was the mvsterious Orazio 
 Angclo.'* 
 
 Tiie letter dropped from the hand of 
 Cecilia, and a mo i»ent elapsed ere she had 
 power to proc ed in the perusal. 
 
 '' To the intrepid valour of that young 
 man Cecilia owes perhaps the life of her 
 mother, and also that of my faithful Guis- 
 pardo." 
 
 Again Cecilia paused, and, with stream- 
 ing eyes upraised to heaven, implored a 
 blessing on Orazio, while a thrilling emo- 
 tion of love and tenderness rushed on her 
 heart. Once more her eager looks were 
 rivetted on the letter. " But not only am 
 I indebted to Orazio as my deliverer : 
 two days after he had placed me and my 
 servant in a secure and sequestered retreat, 
 he brought me information of thy safety, 
 my child. You are under the protection 
 of the Rovenza family. Well, they know 
 you not; and you must remain with them 
 till circumstances will allow us to meet 
 again. The marchesa is a proper protec- 
 tress for my Cecilia; but she must not be 
 informed, as yet at least, that you have 
 heard from me. Be not alarmed by the 
 idea that the friendly exertions of the Ro- 
 venza family to discover my situation may 
 lead to any discovery of my retreat. It is 
 impossible. Console yourself, my beloved.
 
 165 
 
 my affectionate child, with the knowledge 
 of my being in serurity, and suffer not the 
 impracticability of our meeting for a time 
 to depress your spirits. If I hear that my 
 Cecilia endures with cheerfulness and re- 
 signation our unavoidable separation, I 
 shall then be enabled to support an ab- 
 sence which would otherwise be more into- 
 lerable than I can express. An opportu- 
 nity may occur of your being able to write 
 to me. Avail yourself of it. I think it 
 necessary to tell you to do so, because I 
 fear that your timidity might lead you to 
 conclude that by trusting any person, you 
 may injure me; but a proper agent will 
 watch to receive your letter.'' 
 
 The signora concluded her epistle with 
 repeated expressions indicative of the affec- 
 tion she bore her lovely child, but never 
 once mentioned the name of, or alluded tOj 
 the robber Angelo. For some moments 
 after reading this letter, Cecilia stood mo- 
 tionless, absorbed in wonder and joy, till 
 the voice of Lodelli recalled her from her 
 reverie. 
 
 '' Ah, my dear young mistress," said the 
 kind-hearted servant, '' no wonder the 
 thoughts of my dear lady's safety should 
 make you be overcome with joy." 
 
 Cecilia started in dismay : she had been 
 solemnly warned to hold the strictest si- 
 lence on the subject, and she was terrified 
 and amazed that even Lodelli should be so 
 well informed.
 
 166 
 
 '■' How do yoii know so^ Lodelli?*' she 
 tremulously inquired. 
 
 '' Because you cried out, ' Oh, heaven^ 
 accept my gratitude for my mother's pre- 
 servation/ '* replied Lodelli, thus inform- 
 ing Cecilia that she had herself inadver- 
 tently disclosed the secret. '' But surely^ 
 signora/' added she, '' it cannot he any 
 harm for me to know this?" 
 
 Cecilia, now recollecting the tried fide- 
 lity of this servant, no longer hesitated to 
 confess that her mother was indeed in 
 safety, but declined telling any other par- 
 ticulars to Lodelli, who, delighted with 
 even this share of information, soon evinced 
 that her gratitude and affection were far 
 more predominant than her curiosity, as she 
 made no more inquiries on the subject, and 
 promised to keep the secret most sacredly. 
 But the good-natured young woman could 
 not forbear expressing so much pleasure at 
 the thought of seeing her dear lady soon, 
 that Cecilia was compelled to further in- 
 form her, that some time would probably 
 elapse ere they should meet, telling her at 
 the same time that this circumstance was a 
 proof how essential secrecy would be to 
 the safety of her mother. 
 
 Lodelli again promised to be careful and 
 silent, and Cecilia soon dismissed her for 
 the night. 
 
 Sleep visited not the eye-lids of Cecilia 
 for many hours. A thousand mingled feel- 
 ings kept her awake; and although joy for 
 
 I
 
 167 
 
 her mother's safety was most predominant 
 in her mind^ yet the singularity of her 
 having received the letter which contained 
 the pleasing assurance of this fact^ enclosed 
 with one from the robber Angelo Guicci- 
 ardini,^ formed an interesting subject for 
 her reflections. 
 
 The signora had mentioned Orazio An- 
 gelo as her deliverer. She had not once al- 
 luded to Angelo Guicciardini ; and now 
 Cecilia found herself involved in a train of 
 perplexing surmises : but after some con- 
 sideration, she mentally condemned herself 
 for indulging in useless conjectures on the 
 subject^ till suddenly recollecting that the 
 hand-writing of the robber's billet did not 
 appear to be the same with that she had 
 formerly received from him, she instantly 
 conceived the idea that the latter, bearing 
 Angelo'snarae, might have been written by 
 Orazio himself, who, knowing that the 
 robber had promised her his protection, 
 had delicately availed himself of this me- 
 thod of attempting to conceal the service he 
 had rendered her mother, lest she might 
 attribute any detail he might have given 
 to an inclination of boasting of his ex- 
 ploits. 
 
 Romantic and improbable as was this 
 conjecture, Cecilia eagerly cherished it; 
 and as soon as the morning light dawned 
 on the towers of Venice, she arose, and 
 carefully searching her trunk for the casket 
 given her by the pilgrim^ and which Lo-
 
 168 
 
 delli had informed her was carefullj 
 packed up there^ at length found it, and, 
 with trembling haste^ taking out the first 
 billet of Angelo Guicciardini, perceived^ 
 to her infinite joy3 that the hand-writing 
 was dissimilar to that which was enclosed 
 with the letter of her mother. 
 
 The mind of Cecilia being impressed by 
 this circumstance with an almost instant 
 conviction that there could be no existing 
 connexion between Orazio and the robber 
 Angelo^ she yielded herself up to the strong 
 emotions of her heart, and suffered her 
 thoughts to dwell on the young preserver 
 of her mother with sentiments of the ten- 
 derest gratitude, wholly unconscious 
 that she was cherishing an affection which 
 future events might forbid her to in- 
 dulge. 
 
 Intending to procure implements to write 
 to her mother as soon as possible, Cecilia 
 most impatiently wished for the appearance 
 of Lodelli; who did not, however, come to 
 the room of her young mistress as early as 
 usual. In excuse for this delay, she in- 
 formed Cecilia that Berina and several of 
 the servants had kept her up till almost 
 morning, telling her many stories relative 
 to the family of their lord, and asking her 
 as many questions in return. 
 
 '' But I was too cunning for them, I pro- 
 mise you, signora ; and so they learnt no- 
 thing from me ; but I had the luck to find 
 out something that will surprise you as
 
 169 
 
 much as it did me^ signora. May 1 tell it 
 to you ?" 
 
 '' Certainly, if it is of iniportance for me 
 to know/' replied Cecilia. 
 
 ■' Well then, signora, you know I told 
 you that I suspected that the Signor Fa- 
 bricio was one of the ruffians that helped 
 to carry off my lady and Guispardo; and 
 now it turns out to be nothing at all but 
 ray mistake/' 
 
 '' I am already convinced of this^ you 
 may recollect, Lodelli/' observed Cecilia, 
 *' from the improbability of the marchese's 
 employing a servant who attends on his 
 own person on such ai) enterprise/' 
 
 " Why, that mi,^;lit have come into my 
 head too, signora, if i had not beer, half 
 stupid with fright; but I was not quite so 
 much to blame as you may think, my 
 dear young lady; for Fabricio has a bro- 
 ther, who, he says, is the very model of 
 himself; and this brother has been missing- 
 many years ; and so poor Fabricio was la- 
 menting, last night. 111 at he was afraid his 
 brother had' got into %ome bad ways : and 
 who knows, signora, but that may have 
 been the case ? The more I think of it, 
 the more 1 suspect that Fabricio 's brother 
 must have been the man that was going to 
 (ihokf* Door Gnis])ardo/' 
 
 '' Why so, Lodelli?" 
 
 '' Why, because the man has bee\i miss- 
 ing so long, and has^ no doubt, become 
 one of the terrible robber Angelo's men/' 
 
 VOL. I. I "^
 
 170: 
 
 returned Lodelli. '' And this is not at all 
 unlikely, signora ; for if such a finCj ele- 
 gant, sensible, joung cavalier as the Signer 
 Orazio could be persuaded to be one of 
 Angelo's robbers, no wonder that Fabricio's 
 brother should." 
 
 " And who has asserted that he is so ?'* 
 demanded Cecilia, while the pale hue 
 which overspread her cheek evinced the 
 horror which the supposition excited. 
 
 '' Nobody says that he is so, signora ; 
 for Fabricio only declares that he don't 
 know what is become of him.*' 
 
 '' Of whom ?" 
 
 '' Why, of Giovanl, Fabricio's brother, 
 signora/' 
 
 '' But I 1 metint to say — How 
 
 do you know that the Signor Orazio is one 
 of Angelo's men?" 
 
 '' O dear, Signora ! every body must 
 know that. All the servants of the pal- 
 lazo don't scruple to say so." 
 
 '* And how are they acquainted with any 
 thingrelativeto this young man ?" enquired 
 Cecilia, in almost breathless agitation. 
 
 Lodelli coloured, a*nd hesitated : a fright- 
 ful suspicion stole on the mind of Cecilia, 
 and she eagerly said : '' Is it to your im- 
 prudence, Lodelli, that the household of 
 the marchese owe their Imowledge of the 
 Signor Orazio." Her look of serious dis- 
 pleasur(j confounded Lodelli ; her colour 
 heightened^ and she began io sob. 
 
 Cecilia sunk into a chair, faintly ex*
 
 Ifl 
 
 claiming — '' Ob, my mother ! what may be 
 thy fate, when it rests on the discretion of 
 such a being !" 
 
 '' Oh ! my dear young lady," cried 
 Lodelli, while tears ran down her face — 
 '' Oh ! pray do not look so sadly, nor say 
 such cruel words. St. Anthony forbid that 
 I should have been so wicked as to have 
 told any thing abojit my dear lady, i\\Q sig- 
 nora ! No, if I was to die, I wouldn't tell 
 that ; and if I did say any thing about the 
 Signor Orazio, it was only that Father 
 Ascollini suspected him to be a great, 
 youjig robber ; aad I did not know it could 
 b^ any harm to say what that holy man 
 said. But I did tlie young signor justice 
 too; foi' I told how handsome and elegant 
 he was, and i\vAi he; was, besides, so iearned, 
 and played upon Ihe flute so beautifully; 
 and how he seemed to adore the very ground 
 you walked upon; and they said it was a 
 shame for him to pretend he vvas so fond 
 ofyou^ wlien no doubt he was only plot- 
 ting how he could find out the best oppor- 
 tunity for that terrible Angelo Guicciar- 
 dini to carry off your mother. But I told 
 them, that whether or no he was in the 
 plot, it was no pretence his being fond of 
 you ; for I have heard- him sigh so, and 
 speak your name so softly, when he has 
 been walking all alone by moonlight in the 
 lemon-grove; and '* 
 
 During this curious speech, Cecilia^ 
 overvi'helmed by confusion, had sat mo- 
 tionless, and iiicapable of stopping the vo-* 
 i2
 
 172 
 
 lubility of her attmidant's tongue; but 
 when Lodelli spoke of Orazio's passion for 
 herself, her agitation became so excessive^ 
 that her looks were sufficient indications 
 of the displeasure and confusion she felt; 
 and Lodelli, self interrupted, stopped sud- 
 denly, and retreated a few paces, abashed 
 and dismajed at the glance of reproof she 
 received. 
 
 After a little pause, Cecilia arose, and 
 walking towards the window, waved her 
 h'd.id for Lodelli to withdraw. But this 
 fhithiul and affectionate being, whose only 
 foible was her extreme loquacity, hesitated 
 to obey, and bursting into tears, sto(Td 
 weep'.ng bitterly. 
 
 After a moment's reflection, Cecilia, in- 
 dulging the gentle feelings of her heart, 
 and rt niembering aifeci innately the long 
 attathraent of this youi g wotnan, who was 
 but a few yeiirs older than herself, and 
 iiad grown up with her, took the hand of 
 Lodelli, and mildly but seriously said — 
 
 ^' I am grieved to be compel ieci to con- 
 demn any action of your's, Lodelli ; but I 
 must t( 11 you, that if you do not set the 
 strictest guard on your words, your indis- 
 cretion may be the utter ruin of my dear 
 mother and mvself '* 
 
 The tremblins: Lodelli now looked the 
 very image of horror. 
 
 ' Me, signora ! me ruin my own dear 
 good mistresses ! " 
 
 '* Do not isiterrupt me, Lodelli : I well 
 know that you would not intentionally in-
 
 173 
 
 jure us ; but if you wish to avoid the ter- 
 rible probability of doin^ so, you will 
 henceforth resolutely determine never to 
 speak of our concerns to any person what- 
 ever. And I also desire that you will most 
 carefully observe never to make the Sigaor 
 Orazio the subject of discourse. I am 
 now about to give you the most convincing 
 proof that I believe, after this warning, 1 
 may depend on your prudence. You al- 
 ready know that my mother is in safety: 
 and now I inform you tiiatthe Signor Ora- 
 zio was the person who rescued her from 
 the power of tlie rufiians who had carried 
 her oiF, and' who has conducted her to the 
 secure place of conceal lacnt where she 
 now remains." 
 
 To describe the surprise and shame de- 
 picted in the features of Lodelli, would bo 
 impos-ibie. 
 
 " You may now perceive," continued 
 Cecilia, " of how much falsehood and in- 
 justice you have been guilty. But this 
 must ever be the case with those who in- 
 dulge the foolish propensity to talking in- 
 cessantly, which, I am grieved to say, 
 distinguishes you." 
 
 " Oh, signora ! if ever I speak of any 
 thing again, I only hope that I may be 
 pu-'.ished for it as I am now," exciaimed 
 Lodelii, weeping violently. " But pray, 
 signora^ do pardon me this once; and if 
 ever they coax and cajole me into telling 
 them any thing again, I'm sure I shall de- 
 serve twenty such looks like that one which 
 i3
 
 174 
 
 jou gave me just now — it almost broke mv 
 heart — it was so sad and mournful^ and 
 seemed to accuse me of such terrible 
 things. But do you forgive me, siguora?" 
 
 Cecilia assured her that she did ; and 
 then most particularly cautioned her not 
 to mention what she had been told relative 
 to the Signor Orazio's having been the de- 
 liverer of her mother, 
 
 Lodelli most earnestly promised to pre- 
 serve the secret entrusted to her keeping. 
 
 '' And I'm sure» signora/' she added, 
 •' I shall do a pretty hard penance for 
 having spoken so falsely of that dear^ good 
 young signer^ who saved my lady from 
 those vilkiins'; but I won't even tell my 
 confessor his name,'* 
 
 Cecilia now directed Lodelli to procure 
 her prns, ink, and paper^ being determined 
 to conceal her real motive for requesting 
 to have writing materials by addressing a 
 letter to the Father Ascollini, and sending 
 it by the post. 
 
 The servant withdrew to execute the 
 commands of her lady; and Cecilia sat 
 down to reflect on the best means she could 
 adopt for watching for the opportunity, 
 whieh her moiher had informed her miglit 
 occur, for her letter to be conveyed to that 
 dear parent. 
 
 The hurry of her thoughts had hitherto 
 preveutrd Cecilia from considering how the 
 packft she had found on the table could 
 ha\e been placed there; and it now oc- 
 curred to her that some one servant of the
 
 175 
 
 pallazo must have been employed on the 
 occasion. But this was a circumstance 
 which could not be ascertained without 
 running the hazard of discovering the se- 
 cret to some one who was, perhaps, un- 
 acquainted with the affair ; besides, she 
 could not enter into discourse with any one 
 of the niarchese's domestics ; and the idea 
 of setting Lodclli to make any attempt of 
 the kind, she shrunk from with feelings of 
 apprehension and distress, lest the un- 
 guarded simplicity of this young woman 
 should betrav her into some new indis- 
 cretion. 
 
 To await with patient watchfulness the 
 opportunity which might occur of for- 
 warding lier letter to the sii>.'nora, seemed 
 the only safe method which Cecilia could 
 pursue ; and this she was at length com- 
 pelled to determine on adopting. 
 
 The re- appearance of Lodelii put an end 
 to her reflections. 
 
 '' I cannot as yei, signora, get the thing? 
 you sent me for ; but Signor Caltonni, the 
 major-domo, says jou, shall have them 
 very shortly. Since my lord the marchese, 
 and the Signora Ottavania came home, all 
 tlie people in the pallazo are in a bustle. 
 Several fine ladies and noble gentlemen are 
 now come to the pallazo, and I hear that 
 they and the family are all to go to a beau- 
 tiful villa of the marchese's to-morrow, or 
 next day. I wonder whether we shall go 
 too, signora ?" 
 
 Cecilia heard this intelligence with ex- 
 I 4
 
 176 
 
 treme anxiet}^ as, should she be included 
 in the sudden removal, such a circumstance 
 might entirely deprive her of the hoped for 
 opportunity of writing to her mother. But 
 before she could make any enquiries of 
 Lodelli, a female attendant of the rnar- 
 chesa's came to know whether the young 
 signora would choose breakfast in her own 
 apartment, as the marchesa was engaged 
 with the company newly arrived. 
 
 Cecilia^ who considered this message as 
 an intimation to her to remain in her own 
 room, immediately availed herself of so 
 pleasing a permission, and said she should 
 prefer breakfasting in her apartment. 
 
 The girl withdrew, and in a few mi- 
 nutes her wishes were obeyed. 
 
 When she had concluded this meal, and 
 was once more alone, she paced the room 
 in all that anxiety and imeasiness which 
 her situation naturally created in her mind. 
 At lono'th the return of Lodeili with the 
 pens, ink, and paper, relieved her lady 
 from some portion of the unhappiness she 
 had been suft'ering. . But as she was afraid 
 to begin to write to her mother, lest some 
 unexpected interruption should oblige her 
 to leave her letter open to observation, she 
 now sat down with the intention of ad- 
 dressing the Father AscoUini. This was, 
 however, a task peculiarly distressing to 
 the delicate and ingenuous mind of Ceci- 
 lia. In her letter to the father she must 
 make the most anxious enquiries respecting 
 her mother^ of whose present situation ?he
 
 must thus affect ignorance ; and she felt 
 she must exert a degree of duplicity in so 
 doing", very uncongenial to her nature. 
 From the execution of this unpleasant of- 
 fice she was, however, prevented, by re- 
 ceivina: a summons to attend the Marchcsc 
 di Ilovenza, who, she was mfornied, was 
 waiting to see her in his library. 
 
 Involuntarily agitated by conjecture as 
 to the marchese's motive for this interview, 
 Cecilia desired the servant to conduct her 
 to the library ; and, leaving Lodelli in her 
 apartment, she followed the domestic down 
 the* principal staircase, and through several 
 marble arcades to the library, where the 
 marchese was impatiently awaiting her ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 When the folding- do jrs of this splendid 
 studv were closed, and she found herself 
 i\\oue with the marchese. the perturbation 
 of Cecilia increased ; for she read m his 
 countenance traces of extreme vexation and 
 uneasiness. His behaviour was, however, 
 very polite. He led her to a sofa, en- 
 quired whether her apartment Was agree- 
 able to her, and hoped that she would feel 
 herself as happy as her situation would 
 permit, while under his roof. 
 
 Cecilia replied4)y several polite acknow^ 
 ledgments. A short pause jensucd ; after 
 which the marchese said': — * 
 
 '' I have requested this interview, Sig- 
 
 nora di Berlotti, not only to make those 
 
 essential enquiries respettting your former 
 
 situation^ of which I must learn some fur- 
 
 I 5
 
 178 
 
 ther particulars than those I am already 
 acquainted with, ere I can hope to disco- 
 ver aught of the signora your mother's 
 present circuniscance^ ; but I have also 
 wished to see you for the purpose of asking 
 you another question, which I implore you, 
 for your own sake, to answer with sin- 
 cerity." 
 
 Thv^ 'manner in which the marchese 
 spoke, so severe, together with the eager 
 and penetrating earnestness of his looks, 
 would have given Cecilia considerable 
 alarm, had not her surprise exceeded her 
 other feelings. She regarded him for a 
 m-:sment with a glance of astonishment and 
 enquiry; but quickly recollecting herself, 
 she averred her readiness to reply with sin- 
 cerity to the question he meant to propose. 
 
 The marchese looked more severely on 
 her/ and said : — 
 
 '' Did you not last night, after all my 
 household were supposed to have retired to 
 their respective chambers for the night, ad- 
 mit a stranger into your apartment." 
 
 Cecilia started back. For a moment 
 the shock her feelings received from such 
 an accusation deprived her of the power of 
 replying ; bat her contusion was soon suc- 
 ceeded by just indignation, and, rising 
 with an air of calm dignity, she said, '' if 
 the Marchese di Rovenza believes me ca- 
 pable of such a.i act, he should also con- 
 sider that he degradts himself bv holding 
 converse with one whom he could suspect 
 of so daring an insult to his protection/'
 
 179 
 
 She was now leaving the room ; but the 
 marchese hastily seized her hand. 
 
 '^ Hear me, signora," he cried. '^ This 
 impetuous anger may proceed from wounded 
 delicacy and conscious innocencr : I may 
 allow for the excess of your feelings on 
 this occasion ; but remember, I merely 
 asked you whether you had admitted a 
 stranger to your room. I did not accuse 
 you of having done so.'* 
 
 '' Then in reply to your enquiry, my lord 
 marchese, I solemnly assure you that I did 
 not. I neither beheld, nor conversed with 
 any human being at the hour you mention 
 last night/* returned Cecilia. 
 
 The marchese bent his eyes to the fl^or, 
 and stood deliberating At length he 
 raised his head^ and looking on Crcilia 
 with coinphicency, he said, " I believe 
 you : I believe that Cecilia di Berlotti is 
 incapable of such an act : but I must now 
 intreatyour pardon, and, in ji»stice to ynur 
 feelings, account to you for the sii.gniar 
 enquiry I have made. This morni(ig Cal- 
 torini, with looks full of importance .^nd 
 dismay, requested to speak to me alone. 
 As soon as I could quit the company, I 
 met him here, when he gave me the fcl- 
 lowing relation. He had been sitting up 
 later than usual, arranging some pipers 
 that I had directed him to prepare for my 
 inspection ; but having occasion for soreo 
 records which he had forgotten to take 
 with him to his room, and which were still 
 in the library, he was under the necessity
 
 180 
 
 of coming hither for them. On his way 
 from his room, he was obliged to pass from 
 the opposite arcade into that which leads 
 to this apartment. In crossing the vesti- 
 bule, however, he fancied he heard a foot- 
 step echoing heavily in the corridor on 
 which jour chamber opens; and looking 
 up, he perceived the figure of a man be- 
 ginning to descend the marble stairs. Cal- 
 torini, ^Yho is subject to superstitious fears, 
 imagined this intruder to be a supernatural 
 visitant; and his terror depriving him of 
 the power of moving, or of alarming the 
 family by his cries, he stood trembling, 
 with his eyes fixed on the figure, who, 
 with audacious deliberation, descended the 
 stairs, and scarcely looking at the dastard, 
 who was gazing at him with such cowardly 
 fear, crossed the vestibule, and escaped ; 
 or vanishtd, as Caltorioi swears, among 
 tl-e marble pillars which support the cor- 
 riJ)r.'' 
 
 While the marchese spoke, a suspicion 
 of this figure's being the secret agent who 
 h.ul placed the packet in her room, came 
 iiito the mind of Cecilia; and while the 
 idea that it mi^ht have been Orazio threw 
 her into a state of increased agitation, she 
 asked how Caltoriiii hud described the 
 figure he had seen. 
 
 The marchese cast on ber a look of ear- 
 nest scrutiny as she made this enquiry ; and 
 Cecilia, Iconscious of his motive for ha- 
 zarding it, and now half cxcusiv^g his re- 
 ceut suspicious that the strange? had in-
 
 181 
 
 Iruded into the pallazo on her accounf, 
 blushed deeply^ while her eyes fell beneath 
 the steady glance with which the marchese 
 regarded her. 
 
 After a slight pause, however, he said : 
 '^ I scarcely know how to reply to your 
 enquiry ; for 1 cannot perfectly rely on the 
 accuracy of the description given me of 
 this midnight hero by that sillyCaltoriniy 
 whose fear, I believe, had almost deprived 
 him of his senses at the moment. The 
 description is^ however, quite consistent 
 with my cowardly major-domo's idea of 
 the supernatural appearance of this singu- 
 lar visitant. In short, I have been informed 
 that the man was dressed in a long black 
 garment that almost concealed his figure, 
 which is very tall: his folded arms confined 
 his habit on his bosom ; and on his head 
 ho wore a black helmet, overshadowed by 
 a large plume of waving scarlet feathers ; 
 and to complete the whole, his eyes, which 
 Caltorini swears seemed fixed, looked hol- 
 low and ghastly, and his face as white as 
 snow. This you will perceive, young lady, 
 is a description such as I might expect 
 a frightened fool would give, in excuse for 
 letting the fellow escape; but notwith- 
 standing the nodding plumes, pale face, 
 and hollow eyes, I feel convinced that this 
 terrific apparition is a mere mortal sprite; 
 and should I hear of another visit of this 
 nature, he may find he shall not again 
 escape with impunity^,"
 
 182 
 
 The marchese spoke with bitterness ; but 
 tbeuatural hesitation of his manner was now 
 m )re apparent than ever. ^^ You do not make 
 SLuy observation on this affair, signora/' 
 he addeii, after having paused a n[30inenl to 
 give Cecii'ia an opportunity of replying, 
 who now said, '^ It is impossible for me 
 to make any remark on the subject, my 
 lord, as it is one on which I cannot form 
 any decided opinion. Permit me, however, 
 to say that I regret that such a circum- 
 stance should have led you to suspect that 
 this clindestine visitor entered the pallazo 
 with my knowledge or approbation/' 
 
 '^ He certainly did not venture to do so 
 without some important motive,'* said the 
 marchese : '' and as last night was the first 
 time of his beir?g seen here, you will par- 
 don the error I committed in placing his 
 visit to your account, especially when you 
 reflect that none of my domestics are of 
 consecjuence enough for any person to run 
 such a hazard on theirs. But as vou pro- 
 fess an entire ignorance of this affair, sig- 
 nora, we will dismiss the subject, and pro- 
 ceed to one which is at present more im- 
 portant. You informed me, I think, that 
 you are a stranger to the private history of 
 your mother. Am I correct?" 
 
 " Perfectly so, my lord.** 
 
 '* It is very extraordinary that the signora 
 should never confide her real name even to 
 her daughter!*' observed the marchese, 
 musingly, y Did she nev^r speak of her
 
 183 
 
 country, h^r friends, nor of any circum- 
 stances which might have occupied in her 
 family/' 
 
 *' Never, signor marchese/' replied Ce- 
 cilia, who now began to tre »ible lest the 
 marchese's enquiries should compel her to 
 use some evasion or other most contrary to 
 h« r principles ; for his looks betrayed so 
 much inquisitorial scrutiny, that they pre- 
 pared her for the most minute investi- 
 gation. 
 
 After a few moments passed in mutual 
 silence, the marchese said, ^' But certainly 
 you are not uninformed as to the Signor 
 Malvezzi, the stranger, who at stated pe- 
 riods was accustomed to visit the signora ; 
 pray, who is he ?" 
 
 'Mt is not in my power to reply even to 
 this question as you desire, my lord ; for 1 
 am really unacquainted with every thing 
 which relates to the Signor Malvezzi, never 
 having been permitted to intrude on his 
 ii>terviews wth my mother, and therefore 
 of course am uninformed as to his motives 
 for his visits.'* 
 
 The marchese looked excessively cha- 
 grined Another pause ensued. At length 
 he said : — 
 
 " I ree^ret that the singular diffidence of 
 your mother to entrust to your prudence a 
 knowledge of her private concerns should 
 have tended t<> produce so unlucky a result 
 as seems likely to occur ; for it w^ill, I fear, 
 be uttt^rlv out of my power to make any 
 attempts to free her jfrora the dreadful cir-
 
 184 
 
 curastances in which she may be at present 
 involved, unless 1 could obtain some infor- 
 mation relative to the early part of her 
 life. You will perceive^ signora^" he 
 added, regarding Cecilia with a look of 
 keen penetration, as if endeavouring to 
 read her inmost thoughts, " how impossi- 
 ble it is, under the present nature of the 
 affair, for me to interpose ; for I have no- 
 thing to direct my researches after the 
 Count de Weilburgh, as I cannot even dis- 
 cover to what country be belongs. Could 
 I have even ascertained the country of 
 your mother, something might have been 
 done; for I am confident that a woman of 
 her rank could not suddenly have disap- 
 peared from her family and connexions, 
 witboid such an event having been much 
 remarked ; and the discovery of her name 
 or titles might perhaps have led to that of 
 her foes." • 
 
 Again the marchcse paused ; but Cecilia 
 sat silent and embarrassed, and he soon 
 proceeded : — 
 
 ''Your silence, young ladt* seems to as- 
 sure me that you cannot assist me with 
 aj;y requisite information. I can regret 
 this only for your own sake. All I can do 
 
 I. phsaw ! what cdn 1 do ?" he added, 
 
 jisi :,g, and walking about the room with 
 an air of vexation. Cecilia also arose, in- 
 tending to withdraw. She was beginning 
 to thaak him for the concern he expressed 
 on her mother's avd her own account, 
 ■when the marchese cried-*'/ Hold, Signora 
 
 )
 
 185 
 
 Cecilia ; I cannot listen to an acknowledg- 
 ment of obligations which do not exist. 
 Mj desire to serve yoii, I find, exceeds my 
 power, and is rath( r checked by the invo- 
 luntary suspicion that you affect a reserve 
 towards me which gives me no very flat- 
 tering opinion of the confidence I hoped 
 you would repose in me. It is true, you 
 may not have been enabled to reply to 
 many of the enquiries I have just made; 
 but I have not failed to remark that you 
 are evidently averse to speaking on the sub- 
 ject ; and you must certainly have some 
 concealed motive for a conduct which dis- 
 plays so little concern and anxiety respect- 
 ing the situation of your parent/' 
 
 Cecilia now felt indiscribably shocked 
 and agitated. Artless and ingenuous, she 
 had not been able to affect the anxious un- 
 easiness which, had she not been secretly 
 informed that her mother was in safety^ 
 she certainly would have suffered in a very 
 great degree ; but as she had not dared to 
 confess this important secret, she was 
 doomed to submit in silence to an impu- 
 tation most distressing to her feelings. 
 
 The raarchese watched with eager atten- 
 tion tlie varying colour heighten and fade 
 on her expressive countenance. His dis- 
 crimination soon enabled him to perceive 
 that severe accusation was not the method 
 by which he could obtain her confidence, 
 if indeed she had any thing to confide, and, 
 in a gentler tone than he had hitherto used, 
 he said: —
 
 186 
 
 '^ Forg^ive^ signora^ the accusation of 
 evasion which my recent words contained ; 
 hut remember that my scrutiny on this sub- 
 ject can proceed orlj from my earnest de- 
 sire to rescue the Signora di Berlotti from 
 the dreadful fate which may attend her 
 continuing miich longer in the power of 
 her enemies In justification of my hasty 
 expressions, permit me to urge that your 
 silence induced me to suspect that you 
 feared to entrust me with the few circum- 
 stances which are known to you respecting 
 
 your your your Pray^ who was 
 
 the young man that — that Orazio Angelo^ 
 whom the Signora di Berlotti so myste- 
 riously adopted ?*' 
 
 The confused transition which the mar- 
 chese had made in his speech increased the 
 embarrassment of Cecilia^ and added to 
 the force of the agitation she suffered. She 
 Jiad not power to reply immediately ; and 
 the marchese had again demanded some ac- 
 count of Orazio, ere she was able to assure* 
 him that she could not even give him any 
 satisfactory information on that subject. 
 
 '^'^ How strange! how singular!'* ex- 
 claimed the marchese. '^ I cannot possi- 
 bly conceive why you should have been 
 kept in such utter ignorance of every cir- 
 cumstance that could elucidate the mystery 
 which, I fear^ the impossibility of at pre- 
 sent developing may ultimately prove the 
 destruction of the signora. I suppose, 
 however, that you can let me know some- 
 thing relative to the caverns with which
 
 187 
 
 the cottage communicates. Had the close 
 vicinity of those dreary vaults been known 
 to the signora from her first entering her 
 humble residence }" 
 
 More and more distressed and confused, 
 Cecilia now replied : — 
 
 '' Humiliated as I may be in the opinion 
 of the Marchese di Rovenza by the decla- 
 ration I am about to make, I must never- 
 theless confess that I know nothing rela- 
 tive to my mother's early knowledge of 
 those caverns ; and two years only are past 
 since I first learnt they were connected 
 with our dwelling, and then it was by ac- 
 cident only. I made some enquiries re- 
 specting those deep recesses of the earthy 
 and was once permitted, under the guidance 
 of our domestics, to explore a few of the 
 passages leading to them ; but except that 
 some travellers had been murdered at the 
 mouth of the cave, some years back^ I 
 never heard any thing particular/' 
 
 '* How many years did you say ?" cried 
 the marchese, hastily. 
 
 '' I did not mention the exact space of 
 time from that sad event/' returned Ceci- 
 lia ; '' for I was never informed of it.'* 
 
 '' Never informed !" repeated the mar- 
 chese, in a tone of querulous peevishness — 
 '^ You are not informed on any point which 
 is interesting. Where is the mouth of the 
 cave situated, signora ?" 
 
 '' About tsvo miles from the cottage, 
 my lord," answered Cecilia, rather hurt 
 and surprised at the singularity of the mar-
 
 188 
 
 chese's looks^ and manner ; which, how- 
 ever, quicklj varied from impatient anxi» 
 ety to the fixed stare, of gloomy meditation. 
 His silence conti.uicd so long, that Cecilia 
 at length once more arose. 
 
 '' Whither are you hastening, ^ignora ?** 
 exclaimed the marchess, recalled from his 
 abstraction, and rising also. '' But, par- 
 don me; I will not detain you longer : yet 
 ere you go, suffer me to hazard one more 
 enquiry. Did the signora, your mother, 
 ever reside in Venice ?" 
 
 Thus abruptly questioned on a subject 
 on which she had been enjoined to silence 
 even by the march esa, Cecilia experienced 
 the utmost emotions of embarrassment; 
 yet she hesitated not to reply that some 
 particular circumstances prevented her from 
 answering his enquiry with i\\e sincerity 
 she wished to do, and must therefore re- 
 quest permission to be silent. 
 
 The marchcse gave her a glance of 
 haughty* anger, while he said — '' Your 
 silence is equivalent to a confession that 
 the signora has resided in Venice, I am 
 now convinced ; and were I to indulge the 
 present impulses of my feelings, I migjit 
 be inclined to 'inform you that I should 
 appreciate your want of confidence in me, 
 as it merits. However, if yon think pro- 
 per, you are at liberty to retire, signora ; 
 and let me request you to accept my assur- 
 ances that, while you are under my pro- 
 tection, you will receive every attention 
 which your rank demands."
 
 189 
 
 Cold respect and scrutinizing observa- 
 tion now marked the air and 'looks of the 
 marchese ; and Cecilia, availing herself of 
 this permission to retire, curtsied her ac- 
 knowledgments, and withdrew from an in- 
 terview which had only added to her trou- 
 bles new fears and new anxieties. 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 Returning to her apartment, Cecilia 
 encountered several of the domestics has- 
 tily passing along the marble arcades; but 
 their quick footsteps, echoing on the pave- 
 ment, were scarcely heeded by her, till, on 
 reaching the spacious vestibule, she per- 
 ceived the Signora Ottavania and several 
 other ladies environed by a group of ca- 
 valiers issuing from the door of a distant 
 saloon. 
 
 Shrinking from the idea of being exposed 
 to the observation of this party, Cecilia 
 involuntarily hesitated to proceed. Her 
 wearied spirits, already but too much ao-i- 
 tated by the recent . interview with the 
 Marchese di Rovenza, refused to support 
 her trembling frame with that degree of 
 calm composure which she felt it was re- 
 quisite to assume, in again meeting the 
 haughty Ottavania ; and unwilling to en- 
 counter the rude glance with which curi- 
 osity might tempt the strangers to regard 
 her, she endeavoured to conceal herself in
 
 190 
 
 tlie shade of one of the Colossal pillars 
 which supported the vaulted roof of the 
 vestibule; but ere she could effect her 
 purpose, she perceived that the whole party 
 were advancing in the way towards her. 
 To attempt to conceal herself^ or to re- 
 cede, would now have be^n ridiculous^ 
 and she proceeded onwards. 
 
 The graceful elegance of her air^ the 
 beauty of her youthful form, and her white 
 drapery, forming such a contrast to the 
 black robes of the noble Venetian ladies, 
 as she glided from between the massy pil- 
 lars, and was crossing the chequered pave- 
 ment of the vestibule to the grand stair- 
 case, instantly attracted the eyes of those 
 she would have avoided, and exclamations 
 of surprise and admiration were involun- 
 tarily uttered by several of the cavaliers. 
 
 Sufficiently confused by finding herself 
 an object of such notice and such remarks, 
 Cecilia required not the loud laugh which 
 envy impelled Ottavania to utter, to hasten 
 her flight. With trembling eagerness she 
 essayed to reach the foot of the marble 
 stairs, but her agitated feelings became too 
 powerful for endurance, and ^he sunk 
 fainting on the pavement. 
 
 When returning sensibility imparted to 
 her a consciousness of her situation, she 
 perceived that she was surrounded by a 
 throng of strange countenances, and sup- 
 ported in the arms of the Marchese di Rp- 
 venza, whose hesitating accents informed 
 her, as he enquired whether she was bet-
 
 191 
 
 ter, that he felt not siiglitly interested bjr 
 her indisposiUon. 
 
 Timidly disengaging herself from his 
 support^ she rep tied lu acknowledgments 
 for the^poilte assistance she had received, 
 and was essaying to.retire from the earnest 
 ga^e of those who surrounded her, when 
 the marchese took her hand, and requested 
 that she would accompany him to the sa- 
 loon, where the marchesa, as yet unin' 
 formed of her transient indisposition^ would 
 be happy to receive her. 
 
 Cecilia, still unable to exert herself in 
 offering excuses, or in declining this ho- 
 nour, permitted the marchese to lead her 
 to the saloon, whither they were atte.;aed 
 by the company, the meeting with whom 
 had so much disconcerted her ; and after 
 having been received by the amiable mar- 
 chesa with the most distinguishing marks 
 of kindness, she was introduced to the 
 strangers as a young iady of rank, and un- 
 der the immediate protection of the mar- 
 chese and marchesa. 
 
 Thus introduced, Cecilia instantly found 
 herself overwhelmed with compliments and 
 congratulations on her recovery from her 
 recent swoon, attentions in which Otta- 
 vania, with sullen reluctance, joined the 
 visitors, and who could scarcely suppress 
 the internal rage and mortification she en- 
 dured in having been compelled to do so 
 by certain looks of the marchese, her fa- 
 ther, who had fully indicated to his re- 
 fractory daughter that he would^ in this
 
 VJ2 
 
 instance at leasts be obeyed. The avowed 
 friendship and protection of the Marchese 
 and Marchesa di Rovenza could not have 
 failed in securing to Cecilia every possible 
 respect and attention from their g^uests^ 
 even had not the latter been irresistibly at- 
 tracted by the uncommon beauty and ele- 
 gance of the young stranger ; and there- 
 fore Cecilia soon found herself the object 
 of admiration and complimentary adulation 
 of a group^ who^ surrounding her with a 
 thousand little polite attentions, proved 
 by their manner how gladly they availed 
 themselves of the opportunity of paying 
 their tribute to charms which they had ne- 
 ver before seen equalled. 
 
 From this scene, equally irksome and 
 disgusting to Cecilia^ she was, however, 
 soon released by the considerative kindness 
 of the marchesa, who, observing how un- 
 pleasantly her f'd'u protegee yv'ds situated, 
 took occasion to inform her that she was 
 expected to join the party in an excursion 
 to her villa on the morrow. This infor- 
 mation was given at this moment merely to 
 furnish Cecilia with some excuse for with- 
 drawing from society, which the marchesa 
 felt must be extremely disagreeable to the 
 troubled mind of her young friend, who 
 now availed herself of the intended kind- 
 ness, and withdrew,, followed by the re- 
 gret of many of the cavaliers, who were 
 captivated by her loveliness.
 
 193 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 Cecilia, on entering her own apartment, 
 threw herself into a chair and burst into 
 tears. For some time she wept svitli an- 
 guish; but at length she found the oppres- 
 sive emotions of her heart relieved^ and, 
 \Titli somewhat of composure^ she reviewed 
 the disagreeable circum=<tancc in which 
 she was placed. Reflection, however^ af- 
 forded her but little consolation. The 
 certainty that she was to accompany the 
 marchesa and her party to the Villa di 
 Rovenza, seemed to exclude all hope of 
 being able to send an answer to the letter 
 she had so mysteriously received from her 
 beloved mother, and this idea plunged her 
 into the deepest affliction. That the stran- 
 ger who had so much alarmed the IVtajor- 
 domo Caltorini, nuist have been the person 
 who had placed the pacquet in her cham- 
 ber, she hardly hesitated to believe; and 
 she might have indulged the consolatory 
 hope that this secret agent, whoever he 
 was, would soon tind some opportunity of 
 seeing and speaking to her, had she not felt 
 but too well assured that tlie necessity of 
 her quittingthe pallazo so suddenly would 
 undoubtedly prevent any attempt the 
 stranger might be inclined to make in the 
 hope of being able to address her. Oim3 
 night longer she was, however, to continue 
 in the pallazo; but would the stranger 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 
 
 judge it prudent to return so soon^ after 
 havitig been seen by Caltorini : of this 
 there seemed but little probability : how- 
 ever, the mere surmise served to cheer the 
 splits of Oecilia; and, improbable as such 
 an event appeared to be, she resolved to 
 write her letter and have it in readiness, in 
 case the ardently hoped for opportunity of 
 sending it off might occur. The hour when 
 the family should be retired to take their 
 siesto, was that in which she now de- 
 termined to write, ?s she could hope to be 
 then free from all interruption. 
 
 Her mind beirg compostd in some mear 
 sure by this resolve. Ctciiia suffered her 
 thoughts to revert to her recent interview 
 with the marchese, and its unexpected re- 
 sult ii) ht^r intioduction in such a style to 
 the visitants now in the pallazo. As to 
 the marchese's accusation of her having 
 granttid a midnight conference to the 
 mysterious strapger, whom she could no 
 lor.ger condemn the former for having sus- 
 pected to have entered the palace on her 
 account, it was a subject which did not 
 long engage her reflectiovis. From the de- 
 scription given, she was convinced that it 
 was not Orazio who had been discovered 
 bv Caltorini ; and the figure so little cor- 
 responded with that of the terrific robber 
 Aiigclo, if indeed the latter had had any 
 concern in the affair ; a circumstance which 
 Cecilia would not, even for a moment, 
 permit herself to suppose possible ; and, of 
 course, she concluded that the person was
 
 195 
 
 wholly unknown to her. But as no fur- 
 ther conjecture could enable her to deter- 
 mine as to who the man might really he, 
 she soon turned her thoughts from the sub- 
 ject, and her mind became occupied by 
 one even more important. The earnest en- 
 quiries which the marchese had made re- 
 specting the real name and former circum- 
 stances of the Signora di Berlotti were no- 
 thing more than might have been expected 
 from a nobleman who professed himself 
 resolved to rescue her from the perilous 
 and mysterious circumstances in which she 
 was involved. Cecilia could not therefore 
 feel otherwise than grateful for the deep 
 interest he manifested on the subject, and 
 seriously regretted the strange necessity 
 M'hich enjoined her to use any reserve with 
 him. That the marchese entertained some 
 idea that the signora had l)een formerly 
 known to him appeared evident from his 
 expressions, on Cecilia's refusing to satisfy 
 him as to her mother *s ever having resided 
 at Venice ; and his hayii^g introduced her- 
 self as a person of rank to his company 
 seemed to confirm the idea. 
 
 As these reflections passed through the 
 mind of Cecilia, she found her thoughts 
 even more embarrassed and perplexed than 
 they had ever been before. Involved in cir- 
 cumstances equally mvsterious and unac- 
 countable, she knew not in what manner to 
 judge of the singular incidents which daily 
 occurred to her. Indeed the v^hole of the 
 marchese's conduct in their recent inter- 
 k2
 
 196 
 
 view Nvas such as to excite the most con- 
 tradictory and agitating ideas. Fortu- 
 nately for her present ease^ Cecilia was 
 soon recalled from these ruminations^ so 
 unavaiiingly distressing, by the appearance 
 of Lodelli, who, the moment she entered^ 
 put to flight all her lady's reflections by 
 exclaiming — 
 
 '' O, signora ! is it true that you have 
 been fainting quite dead, and I out of the 
 way ? O, if I had not been about some- 
 thing very particular^ 1 never should for- 
 give msyeif for not being here." 
 
 " And where were you ?" enquired Ce- 
 lia, perceiving that Lodclli's looks were 
 full of importance, yet trembling to hear 
 where she had been, lest she should learn 
 some new proof of her imprudent loqua- 
 city. 
 
 " Why, I'm going to tell you, my dear 
 young lady, if you are well enough to hear 
 
 me: but you look sadly, indeed — and '" 
 
 '' 1 am quite well enough to listen to 
 wha,t you may wish to inform me of.'* 
 
 '■' Well then, signora, when you went to 
 meet his excelienza the marchese in the 
 library, 1 was looking out of the lattice 
 here that overlooks the terrace, and there 
 was a gondola lying close under the win- 
 dow, and one of the gondoliers in it sing- 
 ing; so sweetly one of those merry airs that 
 I have so often danced to on the banks of 
 my own dear Lake Maggiore; and so I lis- 
 tened with such delight, and put my head 
 out to hear the bi tter, and then I saw the
 
 197 
 
 singer. He was a joiing man, signora ; 
 and I was quite ashamed when I saw that 
 he was looking up at the window so eager 
 and so watchful. The moment he saw 
 me, he looked all around him very care- 
 fully, and then looking up again, he made 
 a motion to me to come down, I shook 
 my head angrily, as much as to say that I 
 wondered he could ask me such a thing ; 
 but he beckoned me the more, and then it 
 popped into my head tiiat this might be 
 the very person who contrived so nicely to 
 bring you my lady's letter. ' 
 
 '* And did vou not 2:0 ?" demanded Cc- 
 cilia, in a voice of breathless anxiety. 
 
 " Go ! why, yes, to be sure, signora. 
 Do you think I would stop when such a 
 thought came into my head ? No, no; 1 
 made a signal that I would come down di- 
 rectly ; and so I took a handkerehuf. :::.:! 
 let it fall out of the window, that 1 might 
 have some excuse for going down on \he 
 terrace, if I met anybody; but I was so 
 lucky that I did'nt meet a soul in my way ; 
 and when I reached the parapet of the ter- 
 race, I saw the young man close by it in 
 the gondola; and only think, signora, if 
 the handkerchief was'nt in his hand ! HqW' 
 lucky that was too [ Tlie wind had blown 
 it into his boat ; and so I had a fine excuse 
 indeed for speaking; but I took care to 
 hear what he had to say first ; and so, after 
 looking very cunningly at me for a little 
 lime, he said — 
 
 ' Your naiwe is Lodelli, isn't it ?' 
 k3
 
 198 
 
 *' Holy St. Britlget I bow I was startled 
 to hear him call me by my name. I asked 
 him how became to know it; but he only- 
 laughed^ and then said — 
 
 ' You must bring me an answer to the 
 packet of letters left on the dressing-table 
 of — you know who, last night, and it wril 
 be safely delivered/ 
 
 Cecilia, instinctively assured that this 
 gondolier was the person deputed to bear 
 the answer he sought (o be entrusted with,, 
 yielded to the emotions of joy and tender- 
 ness which the ceriaiuty of being thus ena- 
 bled to have her letter conveyed to her mo- 
 ther, and the recollechon of him by whose 
 means that beloved parent had been deM- 
 vered from her powerful foe, inspired. 
 
 After some moments* indulgence of those 
 softeiied recolhctions and regrets which 
 iitale o'er her aiiiid^ she enquired when 
 Lodehi was igain to see the young man ? 
 
 '' Whei« the marchese and all the fine 
 company are at s ;pper, signora," returned 
 L >delli. '' He bid me watch at the^ lat- 
 tice for him at thai tim^, and said he 
 would be ready b low then, and would 
 sirtg the sweet iunr that drew me to the 
 window before He's a very comely- look- 
 ing man, signora ? ' 
 
 Cecilia u«nv directed Lodelli to watch 
 verv rarefuMy at the app(>inted hour, and 
 thei) expressed a hope that she had not 
 bee?» observed conversing with him in the 
 raorjJt'g 
 
 Ludeili vowed that not a soul had dis-
 
 199 
 
 covered lier. '' They were all too busy^ 
 signora^ talking about the ghost that Sig- 
 nor Caltorini swears he saw in the vesti- 
 bule last night. Did you hear about it^ 
 signora?" 
 
 '" Yes/' replied Cecilia, while her 
 thoughts were engaged on another subject. 
 
 ^' Oh, San Marco ! and is it true, sig- 
 nora ? Was it really a ghost ? " 
 
 The attention of Cecilia being now fully 
 drawn by these exclamations, she explained 
 to her terrified servant the suspicions she 
 entertained that the ghost was, in reality, 
 no other than the person who had placed 
 the packet of letters in her room ; but Lo- 
 delli, with an incredulous shake of the 
 head, declared that could not be, as the 
 young gondolier was very short, and the 
 ghost, the major-doiTio had declared, was 
 the tallest figure he had ever seen." 
 
 " Did the gondolier then say that he 
 himself had laid the packet on my table ?" 
 
 *"' No, he did not say so, signora ; that 
 is, he did'iit positively say so; but he 
 laughed when I asked him, and jokingly 
 said he thought I was very cuiious, and 
 then asked how I could suppose he knesv 
 it had been laid on the table, if he had not 
 been thf^re? Besides, fignora, he could 
 never m:<ke himself such a figure as that 
 old Caltorini says he met in the vestibule. 
 Why, it was as tall as almost to reach the 
 roof, and all clothed in black, with such 
 a dreadfifl plume of blood red feathers 
 waving over its pale face — aad such eyes, 
 K 4
 
 200 
 
 KJgnora! O^ the major-domo savs, its ejcS 
 were the most terrible-looking eyes that 
 he ever saw. But do you know, signora^ 
 ihat scarce any of the servants will believe 
 that he saw any thing; for they say he's 
 always fancying that he sees some fright- 
 ful hobgoblin or another, and that if they 
 nere to miiid him, they should never rest 
 m their bods for fear. There was Fabri- 
 cio laughing, till he was almost in fits, at 
 poor Signor Caltorini's whims ; but Roberto 
 shook his head, and said that he was not 
 at all surprised at the major-donio's being 
 so frightened at every shadow, for that no- 
 thing but a good conscience can make 
 people courageous. Fabricio was quite 
 angry wi(h him for this speech, and said, 
 that people's weakness and folly should not 
 make them suspected of things which they 
 never committed ; and that my lord the 
 marchese would be very angry if he knew 
 that sudi unjust reflections had been cast 
 upon his faithful servant the major-domo. 
 And now, slgnora, it came out, that the 
 marchese himself is subject to very low 
 spirits, and sometimes fancies that he sees 
 strange sights, as well as poor Signor Cal- 
 torini.'' 
 
 Cecilia did not listen to Lodelli with 
 much attention until the assertion that the 
 Marchese di Rovenza's being subject to 
 superstitious terrors suddenly recalled to 
 her recollection his singular looks and 
 manner when he had made some enquiries 
 respecting the travellers who were said to
 
 201 
 
 have been murdered at the mouth of the 
 caverns which adjoiricd the cottage. Au 
 involuntary shuddering -seized her frame as 
 this re?nembrance fiitted across her mind. 
 The imliappy persons wlio had perislied l>j 
 the hands of assassins, it was whispered, 
 had fallen the victims of some Venetian 
 nobleman of high rank ; and although one 
 of the men employed on the horrible occa- 
 sion was said to have been taken up^ yet 
 either the induence and the power of his 
 employer had been successfully exerted in 
 preventing any very minute investigation 
 of the dark transaction^ or from some other 
 cause unknown, the afiair had soon sunk 
 into oblivion. Though unable to account 
 for the strange association of ideas which 
 bad. thus connected the murder of those un- 
 fortunates with the n^archese's fearful cre- 
 dulity on supernatural subjects, Ceciiiaex- 
 perienced a thrillino; sensation of mingled 
 horror and self-reproach steal o'er her, 
 heart, w^hile her niemory bpt too faith- 
 fully represented the look of enhorrored. 
 eagerness which the coup.tenance of the 
 rnarchese wore while questioning her on 
 the subject, and the gloomy abstraction^ 
 into which he had immediately afterwards 
 fallen. But anxious to release herself from 
 the wild fancies which irresistibly crowded 
 on her mind, and which, aUhough they 
 were involuntary, she condenmed herself 
 for feeling, Cecilia sought to withdraw 
 her thoughts from so singular and painful 
 a subject; and as the hour when she was 
 K. 5
 
 £02 
 
 to join the marrhrsa and lier party at din- 
 ner was fast approaching', she etidtavour« d 
 to banish her gloomy ideas, by assisting' 
 Lodeiii to arrange her thing?, preparatory 
 to the approaching jouniey, and in adjust- 
 ing her dn ss. 
 
 Whin Crcilia, ])owever, found her^self 
 once more \i\ the presence of the uiarchese 
 and marchesa, and their guests, her thoughts 
 pertinaciously returned lo the remarkable 
 and distressing suggestions which she had 
 so strenuously atten;pted to repel from her 
 mind; and as her eyes involuiitarily rested 
 on the sallow and marking features of the 
 marchese, she mentally rv coiled from the 
 unpleasing expression which ^he thought 
 45he perceived to lurk beneath the smile of 
 polite attention and complacency with 
 with which he regarded his friends. 
 
 The observant though timid glance of 
 Geci'ia was, however, soon checked by the 
 marchese's suddenly encountering her look ; 
 and the surprised antt perpetrating stare 
 with which he for a moment viewed her 
 would have effectually prevented her from 
 repeating her examination of his counte- 
 n nee, even had not her attention been too 
 soon engaged by the officious assiduities 
 wvih whicli several of the strangers present 
 er.f^ favoured to obtain her notice. 
 
 Among; those who sought to render their 
 attentions most pleasing to Cecilia w-js a 
 yoi p^' signor, called Faenza, whose a I mi- 
 rat ion- of the marchesa's lovely prottgic 
 was sa^ appaient^ that it frequently drew
 
 203 
 
 from Leonardo di Rovenza the most s^ngry 
 and repellant glances ; but however uii- 
 pleasing were bis sensations, while observ- 
 ina: the animated and impassioned iooks of 
 Faenza, the jealous displeasure of Leo- 
 nardo appeared to be exceeded bj Otta- 
 vania's, whose countenance alternately 
 flushed and pale with internal rage and 
 vexation^ betrayed the struggling emotions 
 of her mindj while her eyes, occasionally 
 flashing indignant scorn^ were fixed ou the 
 gay Faenza, who^ seemingly unconscious 
 that there was any other being present 
 worthy his notice but Cecilia di Berlotti, 
 devoted his whole attention to her-elf. 
 Fain^ however, would the lovely object 
 who 80 unwillingly engaged his envied 
 regards, have dispensed with them ; for 
 she had perceived the wrathful looks of 
 Ottavania and her brother, as they were so 
 obviously pointed that they could not be 
 mistaken^ and therefore could not fail of 
 distressing and confusing Cecilia^ whose 
 delicate and well- regulated mind sh unk 
 from the idea of being exposed to the ^ude 
 observation with which they seemed to no- 
 tice her 
 
 From this unpleasant situation she was 
 only relieved by the conclusion of the nieal_, 
 when, on the company withdrawing into 
 another apartment, she was addressed by a 
 lady of the party, who held her in convr-r- 
 satioOj together with the marchese, till fhe 
 moment of retiring to their respective 
 apartments to take the siesto.
 
 204 
 
 As this was the hour which, as being- 
 least liable to anj interruption^ Cecilia had 
 resolved to devote to writing to the signora, 
 she now sat down to execute this pleasing 
 though agitating task, and endeavoured to 
 give to her beloved mother a brief detail 
 of all that had occurred to herself since 
 their sad separation. Tiiis epistle, con- 
 taining all the duteous respect and tender- 
 T)Gss of filial veneration and love, Cecilia 
 however so carefully worded as to prevent 
 the signora from entertaining anj farther 
 apprehensions concerning the welfare and. 
 safety of her daughter; and while this 
 lovely girl so anxiously considered every 
 expression which might, she apprehended, 
 betray any of the doubts and fears which 
 she could not always avoid suffering, and 
 which might causelessly alarm her beloved 
 HJother^ tears of anxious affection and dread 
 stole down her own fair cheeks. 
 
 Omitting not to mention the circum- 
 stance of tke letter's being enclosed in an 
 envelope containing also one signed Angelo 
 Guitciardirii, Cecilia ingenuously confessed 
 that she had been led to conjecture that 
 Orazio had, from some motive, thought 
 proper to assume the name of the robber 
 on this oKasion; and she as ingenuously 
 requested her mother's opinion on this sub- 
 ject, entreating the signora to write to her 
 again as early as consideration for her own 
 safety would permit. Cecilia did not con- 
 clude this letter, which cost lier so many 
 t^eaj's and so much heartfelt anxiety^ with-
 
 205 
 
 out enquiring for poor Guispardo, whom 
 she could not hut regard as a faithful 
 friend^ whose presence she rightly judged 
 must undoubtedly be consolatory to her 
 mother. 
 
 The setting sun^ and the sound of foot- 
 steps reverberating along the corridor, in- 
 formed Cecilia of the lapse of time ere she 
 had folded her long epistle, which she now 
 hastily did ; and then, with many cau- 
 tions, consigning it to the care of Lodeili, 
 reluctantly proceeded to the saloon, where, 
 she had been informed, the marchesa and 
 her friends were already assembled. 
 
 The party, Cecilia observed, was much 
 less than it had been at dinner : three la- 
 dies only remained ; and these, with an 
 elderly nobleman, called the Count Car- 
 raci, Signor Fuenza, and Leonardo di 
 Rovenza, were now seated with the mar- 
 chesa ; but Cecilia had scarcely entered 
 the room, when Ottavania followed. The 
 same haughty ill humour characterised 
 the features of the latter, and she was 
 nearly on the point of encountering as much 
 cause for vexation as she seemed to have 
 had during dinner, from the conduct of 
 Faenza, who, the moment he beheld Ce- 
 cilia, was renewing his attentive solicitude 
 to engage the notice of the latter, but was 
 prevented by the marchesa, who, perceiv- 
 ing his design, frustrated it by placing 
 Cecilia near herself and the lady who had 
 entered into conversation with her after 
 dinner.
 
 206 
 
 This lady, Cecilia soon founds was a 
 widow, and nearly related to the Count 
 Carraci. They hoth appeared to be on the 
 most friendly and intimate terms with the 
 Marchesa di Rovenza ; and this circum- 
 stance assured Cecilia that the Signora 
 della Albiiia, so was the lady called, must 
 be an estimable character, as well as the 
 Count Carraci, her cousin. The other 
 two ladies who were present appeared to 
 be much more distinguished by the Sig- 
 nora Ottavaiiia than by the marchesa ; and 
 their air and loolcs seemed fully indicative 
 that their dispositions were in unison with 
 that of theii friend. These ladies, whose 
 name was Bellinzetto, were neither young 
 nor handsome : their pretensions, however, 
 were unbounded ; and as they were sisters 
 of noble birth, though reduced fortunes, 
 they were received at the Pallazo di Ro- 
 venza in compliment to the partiality of 
 Ottavania, with whom they had resided in 
 the same convent for some time. 
 
 The Signoras Bellinzetto were not quite 
 destitute of what is called wit; thut is, 
 they possessed some talents for that spe- 
 cies of spiteful repartee and ironical rail- 
 lery which is sometimes mistaken for wit 
 bv those who delight in ridicule and ill- 
 natured satire ; and as Ottavania di Ro- 
 veiiZa, with all the inclination in the world 
 t<» mortify others by the half-laughing, 
 haK-sneering innuendo, did not possess the 
 po'vc.-, she usually contrived to d aw these 
 imamiable sixers every where with her,
 
 207 
 
 that she might employ their talents for hei* 
 own malicious aiiiusemeni ; aud hi this 
 aim she g-eiierally succeeded, as her coun- 
 tenance aiid presents rendered these ladies 
 perfectly subservient to her wishes. 
 
 After a i it tie general conversation^ the 
 Sigiiora Oitavania and her friends, with 
 the Count Carraci, Signor Faenza, and 
 Leonardo, sat down to cards, wh le the 
 mnrchesa, the Signora della A'bina, aiid 
 Cci iha, remained conversing at a distant 
 window. Could the latter have abstracted 
 her thoughts from the many causes for 
 anxiety and sorrow which attended the 
 melancholy situation of her mother, she 
 might have listened with delighted atten- 
 tion to the conversation of the marchesa 
 and her friend. Intelligent and full of 
 sensibility, these amiable women spoke 
 with justice and feeling on the subjects 
 they now discussed ; nor was Cecilia once 
 pained by any allusion to her own circum-^ 
 stances, till the Signor Faenza^ impatient 
 of his irksome confinement at the card- 
 table, declared he could play no longer., 
 as he found it impossible to devote the re- 
 quisite attention to the game, and should 
 therefore only perplex his fair opponents 
 by his blunders, a plea which Leonardo 
 also might have justly urg. d in excuse for 
 the alacrity with which he threw dnwn 
 his cards. Ottavania sullenly assei^ted to 
 the breaking up of the p^rty : she had ea- 
 sily perceived the motives which had 
 actuated both the young ineii to decline
 
 208 
 
 playing any lonsjer^ bul resolved that they 
 should have ko opportunity for conversing 
 with Cecilia, she proposed music ; and as 
 both Leonardo and the Sigrior Faenza v/ere 
 proficients in the science, no objection 
 could be made on their part ; especially as 
 Ottavania piqued herself on her own mu- 
 sical talents^ which^ however, were even 
 below mediocrity. The Count Carraci^, 
 who was a passionate admirer of music^ 
 heard ^he proposition with pleasure; and 
 as the Signora della Albina sung with con- 
 siderable taste, she also was requested to 
 assist in the little concert. The Signoras 
 Bellinzetto, possessing neither powers nor 
 ir.clination for this fascinating science^ 
 would have been compelled to the disa- 
 greeable necessity of becoming mere hear- 
 ers, had not the idea that they should now 
 be at full liberty to make their observa- 
 tions on the young Cecilia, consoled them; 
 for the Count Carraci, unconscious that 
 the young protegee of the uiarchesa was 
 involved in circumstances, the sad nature 
 of which must effectually prevent her hav- 
 ing either spirits or wish to join in the 
 musical party, entreated her to sing, or 
 play. Cecilia timidly excused herself for 
 sometime, but a look from the marchesa, 
 earnestly intimating her wishes that she 
 should do so, compelled her to yield a re- 
 luctant assent. 
 
 Oitavaniaand the Signora della Albina 
 had just commeiiced a beautiful quartette 
 with Leonaido and Faenza. when thci
 
 209 
 
 count had obtained Cecilia's acquiescence 
 to comply with his wish of hearing; her ; 
 and when it was concluded^ he importuned 
 her to accompany himself in a duetto, 
 which he named, and which was peculiarly 
 adapted to display taste and execution. 
 Cecilia took the lute he offered her, and 
 without affectation struck the prelude, a 
 voluntary in which the count did not at- 
 tempt to join hej, so transported was he 
 with the exquisite style in which she played. 
 To end an admiration which she felt paiifed 
 by exciting", Cecilia sunk from a beautiful 
 ad libitum cadence into the air of the du- 
 etto ; and the count, rapturously exel aim- 
 ing " bravissimo!" accompanied her; but 
 if some of the astonished listeners were at- 
 tentive admirers of her instrumental pow- 
 ers^ nothing could exceed the ama/emeut 
 and delight which her vocal excellence 
 created in the minds of Faenza, Leonardo, 
 and the Signora della Albina, whose rap- 
 tured attention, solely engaged by Cecilia^ 
 saved them from witnessing the pale gla- 
 ring looks of envy and mortification which 
 now betrayed the internal feelings of Ot- 
 tavania, as, with surprise and malicious 
 vexation, she heard the harmonious and 
 thrilling sounds of the voice of her whom 
 she already hated with all the enmity and 
 rancour which the idea of finding in this 
 unknown girl a powerful rival could ex- 
 cite in such a bosom as her own. 
 
 When the duetto was concluded, Cecilia 
 hoped her painful task was over; but she
 
 210 
 
 was so eaniesily importuned to sing alolie^ 
 that she was under the necessity of con^- 
 plyir.g, to avoid the appearance of affected 
 obstiiiacy. After a momentary pause of 
 recoilxtioiij she lightly touched the sym- 
 phony of a sweet and plaintive air which 
 had been taught her by the signora, her 
 mother ; and the tender recollections which 
 these soft and melancholy notes recalled 
 to her mind, added to her feelings all that 
 heartfelt sensibility which gives to expres- 
 sion even the power of fascination. The 
 twilight hour^ the faint breeze which the 
 open lattices admitted into the lofty saloon^ 
 and which, while almost imperceptibly 
 agitating the leaves and flowers of the 
 odoriferous exotics that in gilt vases adorn- 
 ed the recess of the marble walls, diftused 
 around the soothina: balmy fras'rance which 
 
 <-^ XT err ^ 
 
 softens the heart to excess of feeling, all 
 combined to aid the injpression which the 
 soul-penetrating melody of Cecilia's voice 
 produced on most of her scarcely breathing 
 hearers. 
 
 Absorbed in silent transport, Leonardo 
 and Faenza stood gazing on her beautiful 
 face and form, as, with drooping head, 
 she bent gracefully over her lute, while the 
 Count Carraci and the Signora delta Al- 
 bina hung over her chair^ as if they feared 
 to lose the faintest tone of that harmonious 
 voice which imparted such emotion to their 
 hearts. But retired to a distance, Ottava- 
 nia, and the signoras her friends, sought to 
 conceal their envious impatience from the
 
 211 
 
 observation of the rnarchesa, whose whole 
 attention was_, however^ so deeply eiigajTed 
 by Cecilia, that she seemed unconscious of 
 their presence. Meanwhile that lovely 
 girl, with teaiful, downcast eyes, breathed 
 forth her enchanting' strains ; and while 
 memory recalled the peaceful happy hours 
 of her early childhood, became too much 
 absorbed in the feelings such recollections 
 excited in her h^art, to be sensible of the 
 varied sentiments with which she was at 
 the moment regarded by all present. At 
 length, as she softly closed the cadence 
 which nearly ended the last stanza^ she 
 was interrupted and alarmed by hearing a 
 deep and hollow groan uttered by some 
 person near her, and, on looking, beheld 
 the Marchese di Rovenza standing, fixed 
 in an attitude of eager atteiitioUj «t her 
 side. His folded arms, haggard looks, 
 and the wild singulaiity of his air, struck 
 irresistible terror to the heart of Cecilia. 
 The lute fell from her trembling hands, 
 and, overpowered by the sudden transition 
 of her feelings, she was sinking back in- 
 sensible, when the marchese, starting for- 
 ward, violently repelled the SignorFaenza 
 and Leonardo, who were pressing to assist 
 her, and frantically seizing her hand and 
 exclaiming: '' Speak to me, dear murdered 
 angel ! Oh ! say indeed, that it is thee 
 whom I behold ! Oh, speak, and save me 
 from distraction!" — fell lifeless at her feet. 
 Astonishment and consternation seemed 
 for a moment to suspend the faculties of
 
 S13 
 
 those present. Leonardo first found powei* 
 to move; and while hastily kneeling to 
 raise the insensible form of the niarchese, 
 he faintly pronounced : '' Alas! what can 
 have occasioned the return of these lament- 
 able fits of derangement." 
 
 Supported in the arms of his son, the 
 marchese once more re-opened his wild 
 eyes ; and fixing his glaring looks again on 
 Cecilia, who, pale and trembling, reclined 
 on the bosom of tlic Signora deiia Albina, 
 murmured in a hollow voice : '' Is she al- 
 ready dead? — So soon! — ^Impossible! It 
 is but a moment since she sung tljat fital 
 air which first enchanted my^oul ; and '* 
 
 " Assist me, Signc<T Faenxa, 1 entreat : 
 assist me to bear the marchese to his cham- 
 ber/' cried Leonardo, in the utmost agi- 
 tation : '^ he raves still, and delay will hut 
 increase his disorder." 
 
 Faeriza instantly flew to assist Leonardo; 
 and the marchese, again uttering the most 
 incoherent expressions, was borne from the 
 saloon. 
 
 During this scene, the marchesa had 
 fainted ; and although Ottavania added 
 her efforts to those of the Signoras Bellin- 
 zettoto recover her mother from her swoon, 
 she yielded fully to the malice of her heart 
 in venting occasionally the bitterest invec- 
 tives against the innocent Cecilia, whom 
 she accused of having, by the exertion of 
 her strange musical powers, worked upon 
 the feelings of the marchese till he had 
 been driven into madness. The artless ob-
 
 2iJ 
 
 ject of her spleen was, however, uncon- 
 scious of her malevolent remarks ; for no 
 sooner had she perceived the insensihie 
 state of the marchesa, than her an:xietj for 
 that lady overcame every other emotion, 
 and, supported by Sigiiora della Alhina, 
 she approached the sofa, on which the 
 form of the marchesa reclined ; and her 
 ahuost filial solicitude conquering- the 
 weakness of her frame, she essayed her ef- 
 forts 50 effect uj^liy in tlwi recovery of her 
 amiable protectress, that she soon had the 
 satisfaction of beholding her restored to 
 sensibility. Ottavania, however, remained 
 not to witness the re-auimation of her mo- 
 ther ; for the moment that Cecilia advanced 
 towards the sofa, she muttered a vindictive 
 expression of displeasure and scorn, and 
 quitted the saloon. 
 
 When the marchesa was capable of 
 speaking, she enquired anxiously for her 
 lord ; and on being informed that he had 
 been conducted to his own apartment by 
 his son and Signor Faenza, she sighed ; 
 and by apologizing for the confusion the 
 marchese's melancholy infirmity had occa- 
 sioned, let Cecilia understand that he was 
 at times suVijtct to temporary derangement; 
 a circumstance which she now perceived 
 -was well known io his present gui^sts. 
 
 The marchesa soon recovciing in some 
 degree her usual composed maimer, the 
 female atlenda itts, who had been i,ummon- 
 ed by the Count Carraci to alivud their 
 lady^ were now dismissed, with orders to
 
 tl4 
 
 send in information respecting the state of 
 the marchese. 
 
 The ladies did not long wait for the de- 
 sired iiiteliigencej as the Count Carraci 
 and Faenza almost immediately returned 
 and informed them that they had left the 
 marchese much more calm, and most care- 
 fully attended bj Leonardo, who was 
 watching beside his couch with the most 
 attentive anxiety till the arrival of the fa- 
 mily physician should enable him to bring 
 more favourable accounts himself. 
 
 The melancholy gloom which such a 
 circumstance could not fail to throw oyer 
 the minds of the whole party, was happily 
 soon dissipated by the report of the phy- 
 sician^ who, soon after his arrival, em- 
 powered Leonardo to bring them thepleasing 
 information that llic recent attack the 
 marchese had e.^perienced, was but slight, 
 and that, as the marchese already gave 
 evident signs of rapidly returning sanity^ 
 there was every reason to hope that he 
 would be perfectly recovered by the fol- 
 lowing morning'. As it was well known 
 that the marchese's fits were never of long 
 continuance, this account obtained implicit 
 credit ; and the marchesa^ apparently in 
 compliment to her guests, endeavoured to 
 appear somewhat chearful, but the invo- 
 luntary sadness which frequently over- 
 spread her countenance^ too plainly told 
 the internal sorrow she endured. 
 
 When the company arose to proceed to 
 the supper-room^ Cecilia would have re-
 
 215 
 
 tired for the night, but the marchesa, 
 gently pressing her hand, sa,id — '' Stay !*' 
 in a tone which implied such a wish for 
 her to remain, that she could not do other- 
 wise than testify her obedience. 
 
 During this meal a silence and constraint 
 prevailed, which the gloomy looks of Ot- 
 tavania, who had joined the party in the 
 supper-room, did not tend to diminish ; 
 and as she was determined not to let the 
 opportunity, which she imagined the pre- 
 sent circumstances gave her of attempting 
 to torture the artless mind of Cecilia, pass 
 by without availing herself of it, she soon 
 took occasion to hint at the dangerous ef- 
 fects which were sometimes produced by 
 music ; remarking, that nothing couid be 
 more crisniual than to indulge in the mon- 
 strous vanity of displaying any extraordi- 
 narv talents in the science, at the hazard 
 of injuring those whose weak nerves and 
 irritable feelings would not permit them to 
 listen to without subjecting themselves to 
 the severest su&'erings. 
 
 These observations were too pointed to 
 escape notice. The marchesa, however, 
 fearing to draw upon the alre.uly distressed 
 and innocent Cecilia even more b.tterly im- 
 plied reflections, endeavoured to change 
 the subject, an effort in which she was 
 most eagerly aided by the ^ignora della 
 Albina, and the gentlemen present, all of 
 whom, perceivii5g the malicious design of 
 Ottavania^ redoubled their attentions to 
 Cecilia,
 
 216 
 
 The repast, rendered thus uncomfortable^, 
 was speedily concluded ; and the corapanj, 
 separating the moment thej could with 
 propriety do so, retired to their respective 
 apartments, with no very pleasing anticipa- 
 tions of what tl>e morrow might produce. 
 
 CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 When Cecilia reached her chamber, she 
 was consoled for her recent uneasiness by 
 being informed by Lodelli that the letter 
 for the Signora di Berlotti had been safely 
 delivered into the hands of the gondolier, 
 who had been punctual to the appointed 
 hour; and after having received repeated 
 assurances from her faithful attendant that 
 no person had witnessed the transaction, she 
 retired to her couch, and dismissed Lo- 
 delli. But the soothing, tranquil slum- 
 bers which used to shed their refresh- 
 ing influence o'er the pillow of Cecilia 
 now seemed for ever banished, as each day 
 had brought forth strange events which 
 engaged refiectioii even in the hours of re- 
 pose. The singular and dreadful import 
 of the expressions vhich the unhappy Mar- 
 chese di Rovenza had uttered, at the mo- 
 ment of his frantic interruption of the air 
 she had beer, singing, altheugh they might 
 with apparent justice be attributed to the 
 melancholy malady to which it appeared 
 he was occasionally subject, had yet made
 
 217 
 
 a deep and awful impression on the mind of 
 Cecilia. It seemed evident to her that the 
 air must have recalled some most interest- 
 ing and agitative recollections to his me- 
 mor}^ ere he could have been so dread- 
 fullv aftected as to have been plunged by 
 it into such a state. Cecilia trembled 
 with horror when she considered what 
 might have been the nature of those recol- 
 lections^ and the meaning of those myste- 
 rious words which Rovenza had with so 
 much emphatic force pronounced, as all 
 his looks and manner, at that alarming 
 moment, seemed to speak the agonizing 
 remembrance of some deed of darkness. 
 
 Terrifying and harrowing conjectures 
 now arose in the mind of Cecilia, and 
 shrinking from (he contemplation of the 
 dreadful possibility that her present pro- 
 tector might once have stained his conscience 
 with the commission of some act of hor- 
 ror, she essayed to calm the thrilling emo- 
 tions of her soul by prayer ; but the morn- 
 ing light gleamed through the curtained 
 lattices of the room, ere she sank into ha- 
 rassed sh.nibers, which contiiiued to pre- 
 sent nought but visions of trouble and ter- 
 ror to her imagination: 
 
 The entrance of Lodeili awakened her 
 from the disturbed sle^p which raiher wea- 
 ried than refreshed her; anti, on rising, 
 she found herself so indisposed, ar?d so re- 
 luctant to meet Ottavania at breakfast, 
 that she was on the point of directing her 
 attendant to request, fcom herself, that she 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 
 
 might be permitted to take the morning 
 repast in her own room ; fiutere she began 
 to speak on the subject, LodelH informed 
 her that the marchesa desired her presence 
 to breakfast alone with her in the private 
 apartment of that lady, who was, owing to 
 the shock shehad received on the preceding 
 evening, too ill to join the company still 
 in the pallazo. Cecilia immediately pre- 
 pared to attend the marchesa, for whose 
 invitation she felt truly grateful, justly 
 attributing this attentioif to her amiable 
 protectress's considerative wishes that she 
 should not, unsupported by her presence, 
 be exposed to encounter the rude insolence 
 of Ottavania. 
 
 Cecilia, who had as yet forborne to make 
 any enquiry respecting the health of the 
 marchese, lest she should leani thjit his 
 disorder had increased—a circumstance 
 which would have given her the greatest 
 uneasiness, as she considered herself in 
 some di gree as the cause of his illness, was 
 now informed by Lodelli that the marchese 
 was so much recovered that no alteration 
 would take place in the arrangements made 
 for quitting the pallazo in the evening for 
 the Villa di Rovenva, unless a return of 
 the indisposition of the marchese should 
 retard their departure. Lodelli would 
 then have fain expatiated, in her curious 
 style, on the fits, as she termed them, to 
 which the Marchese di Rovenza was sub- 
 ject ; but the haste which Cecilia thought 
 proper to make in dressing, to attend the
 
 2VJ 
 
 niarchesa^ prevented her loquacious ser- 
 vant from saj iiig much ; and she was com- 
 pelled to content herself with observing, 
 that the ghost which the major-domo had 
 seen in the vestibule had not again ap- 
 peared. 
 
 When Cecilia reached the apartment of 
 the marchesa, she experienced considei'able 
 surprise and emotion/ on finding the mar- 
 chese himself in the dressing-room of his 
 ^ady. Cecilia hesitated to enter, and would 
 nave retired. The niarchese requf sted her 
 to return. She obeytd, and vvas presently 
 seated on a sofa beside the mart:hcsa, svhile 
 the marchesc, whose pallid and dejected 
 looks evinced how much he had surFered^ 
 addressing her in a tone of kindiC^s, said, 
 in reply to the enquiries Cecilia had timely 
 made respecting his recovery — '' The con- 
 cern depicted in the expressive features of 
 our 2immh\e protegee is so flattering a proof 
 that her wishes for the restoration of n\y 
 health are sincere, that I must be ungrat(3- 
 ful indeed, were I not sensibly pleased with 
 the interest she feels on the subject ; and I 
 believe I cannot reiider my atknov/lcdg- 
 ments less acceptable by inft^rmiug her, 
 that I yesterday evening employed agents 
 to r^scover the Sigv^ora di Berlotti ; and 
 as these people possess extraordinary ta- 
 lents for investigation, I trust we shall 
 soon receive the wished- for intelligence 
 that the signora may still be recoverable 
 from the power of her enemies." 
 
 Th3 matchese paused ; and Cecilia,
 
 220 
 
 stru<rplin«: with the confusion which the 
 
 too o , f -I % > 
 
 internal consciousness of her mother s 
 safety, and the present necessity of dissem- 
 bling, occasioned her to feel, endeavoured 
 to thank him as warmly as her fears of his 
 succeeding in his researches, perhaps to the 
 injury of her mother, would permit. 
 
 The marchese then politely apologised 
 for the alarm he had given her on the pre- 
 ceding evening * and while, with a deep 
 sigh, he lamented the possibility that, on 
 some future trivial occasion, she might 
 perhaps behold him in a similar slate, he 
 added a petition, that she would not suffer 
 herself to he much affected by a sight 
 which he felt convinced must be most dis- 
 tressing to her feelings : — r**^ And I have been 
 informed that I sometimes utter the most 
 strange and dreadful expressions," he con- 
 tinued, observing Cecilia with a penetrat- 
 ing look ; '' but it is impossible at all 
 times to account for the wild flights of a 
 distempered imagination. I can, however, 
 in the prenent instance explain wherefore I 
 was last right so deeply affected.'* The 
 looks of the marchese now became more 
 pale -and scrutinizing as he proceeded to 
 say, '^ I had returned from the people 
 whom I had been directing in their re- 
 searches after the signora your mother. I 
 had been under the necessity of swallowing 
 a few goblets of VTine, and my mind was 
 already confused and disordered when I 
 entered the saloon, where you were exert - 
 iug your bewitching talents to the adaiira-
 
 S5l 
 
 tion of my friends. I trembleJ, and scarcely 
 dared to advance beyond the fo'dir g en- 
 trance doors; for the angelic voice which 
 thrilled through my soul resembled that of 
 a beloved relative^ who, alas ! is dead. 
 The air, the expression, were the same. 
 I rushed silentlj' forward : my strps were 
 unheeded by those who, equally fas( inated 
 as myself, were absorbed in the pleasure 
 of seeing and hearing you. I too soon be- 
 held you. The hour — the white drapery 
 of your dress — your waving hair, half 
 shading your fiice, and inin-hng wiUi the 
 folds of your white veil — the bendiiig atti- 
 tude^ which spoke so muvh modi sty and 
 se-isibility — all revived the idea of ap* 
 image deeply imprintt;d on \n\ h^^art^ and 
 in that instant I believed I b. held her 
 whose perfi^ct rcf-cmblanceyou then seemed ; 
 and no wojider that the recollection vvhich 
 then seized my tortured mind shmld drive 
 me into madness ; for she was baselj mur- 
 dered!" 
 
 The a;^ilation of Rovenza had arisen to 
 such a height while speaking, that both 
 the march( sa and C^m ilia trembled h^st he 
 should relapse ir.to all the horrors of insa- 
 nity The former, hastily rising from the 
 couchj flew to the assistance of her lord^ 
 whose fevered head rested against one of 
 the marble pilasters which alorned the 
 window, vvhile his eyes were rivetfed in the 
 vacant ST^ze of internal abstraction. 
 
 The sound of the marchesa's voice, 
 whichj while tears, flowing fast down her 
 l3
 
 222 
 
 pate cheeks^ impeded her utterance^, was 
 tluis rendered scarcely artiiulate^ recalled 
 the march ese to recv>l lection. He turned 
 on her a h^ok whose mournful smile ex- 
 pressed so much of wretchedness, that Ce- 
 cilia could not refrain from shedding Th;»se 
 tears which pity and grief for his situation 
 excited. 
 
 The marchese perceived her emotion; 
 he watched her in silence for a moment. 
 Perceiving she was ohserved, Cecilia en- 
 deavour* d to check and conceal her sym- 
 pathizing sorrow. 
 
 ^' Oh ! do rot seek to qtiell these feel- 
 ings,'* S3 id the marchese, ( agerly taking 
 hti hand: '' the lenienibrance of these 
 tears uiav be fixed on my heart at a uio» 
 ment when yon may most need—'* 
 
 He suddenly paused; and, earnestly 
 pressing her hand, al)rnptly quitted the 
 room, while the marchesa, attempting not 
 to detain him^ remaiiicd much agitated, 
 and in tears. 
 
 Some few moments had elapsed after the 
 marrhosf 's departure, ere the marchesa or 
 Cecilia found power to speak. At length 
 the former turned her tearful eyes impres- 
 sively on her young prolegeCj and said : 
 '' Do not, my dear Cecilia, permit the 
 sceiie vou have iust witnessed to thus over- 
 power your spirits. The marchese is now 
 prepared to exreet and to guard against 
 the effects whi« h your occasional resem- 
 blance of one who was most dear to him 
 might otherwise produce on his mind. 
 
 1
 
 223 
 
 Change of scene^ and the gaiety which 
 usually prevails when we are at the Villa 
 di Rovcnza^ will also contribute to his 
 tranquillity ; and as he is much recovered^ 
 we shall leave Venice this evening : and 
 now, niv dear young friend/' continued the 
 maichesa, '" 1 must enter on the subject 
 whii'h occasioned me the early visit of the 
 mirciiese this morning; but first we will 
 breakfatt/* 
 
 The niarchesa led the way into an ad- 
 joining apartment, where breakfast was pre- 
 pared. On the conciusian of the meal_, 
 they returned into the dressing-room; and 
 the niarchesa, beiiig now alone with Ceci- 
 lia, said: ^' The subject on which I am 
 about to speak, you may not fiiid of so 
 much importance as your look, my young 
 frtond, seems to imply that you do at pre- 
 sent. It merely relates to the trifling ar- 
 rangements vvhich, as you are under the 
 protection of the marchcse and myself, it 
 is our duty to make prior to y ur accom- 
 panying us to the Villa di Ro\enza; and 
 first I must inform you that I he inarchese 
 has given sncli an account of the circum- 
 stances which obliged you to accept an 
 asylnm under our roof, as is best calcu- 
 lated to preyct your being exposed to the 
 curious impertinence of ijiquisitive idlers, 
 and to secure you the respect and consi- 
 deration of our friends; foi at the same 
 time that he has briefly stated his manner 
 of finding you, he has positively declared 
 l4
 
 2«4 
 
 that your birth is noble ; and as, in conse- 
 quence, be deeir.s it necessary that you 
 should appear according to your rank, I 
 am rommissiored by him to request your 
 acceptance of «his casket/* [here the mar- 
 chesa took a v^ry elegas t one oiF a table 
 that stood near her] " and to inform you 
 that I shall take Ihe iiberty of assisti;^g 
 you in the choice of a wardrobe suited to 
 your condiiion." 
 
 Astonishsnent took from Cecilia the ca- 
 pability of immediately replying; but 
 when at length she recovered in some mea- 
 sure from her ti st emotions, she earnestly 
 begged to decline the casket, which she 
 feared might contain jewels, or some other 
 ornaments, but consputed to receive some 
 small additions to her wardrobe, which 
 certainly was not exactly suitable to her 
 residence in the Pailazo diRovcnza. 
 
 The marchesa, however, peremptorily 
 insisted on her receiving the casket ; and 
 Cecilia, fearing that any further hesitation 
 might offend, reluctantly accepted it, after 
 obtaining a promise from the amiable lady 
 that she would herself select the attire 
 which her young fiiend had consented to 
 assume. 
 
 Cecilia testified her gratitude more by 
 looks than by words; but she could not 
 avoid obeving the impulse which impelled 
 her to uttei several expressions of regret 
 for the trouble she occasioned, and even 
 ventured to hint her wish that she might
 
 ^225 
 
 have been permittrd to reside ia a convent 
 till such timo a 5 the signora her mother and 
 herself could be restored to each other. 
 
 The marchese looked keenly observant 
 at her, as she timidly gave utterance to 
 these wishes, and, in replv, said, '' You 
 can have no occasion to desire to remove 
 from beneath my immediate protection, but 
 what may result fr un the conduct of Ot- 
 tavania; and I had indulged a hope that 
 Cecilia di Berlotti had a mi?;d capable of 
 overlooiiiiig the defects of the da^jghter, 
 from tlie consideration that her society 
 might alleviate the sorrows of the parent." 
 
 This gentle reproof, so afftcti^giv pro- 
 nounced, penetrated the heart of Cecilia. 
 The blush of self-dissntisfarfion coloi* ed 
 her cheek, as faiteringlv she apologized 
 for her apparent ingratitude, and sincerely 
 assured her protectress that she was ready 
 to encounter the severest niortificador s, if, 
 by so doios:, she could command the means 
 of lessening in the slightest degree h^r un- 
 easiness. 
 
 The marchesa a^Tcctioria^ejy en»bra< ed 
 ht^r, and, after inform ng her that sh;^ was 
 expected to be in readiruss to join the 
 party, who were to set off early in the 
 evening, permitted her to retire to her 
 chamber. Cecilia, however, had not I ;< g 
 returned to her own room ere the mar- 
 ch' sa, followed by several of her female 
 attendants loaded wit'; elegant materials 
 requisite for her wear, entered. 
 
 Embarrassed and uaeasy by distinctioiis 
 L 5
 
 2m 
 
 wLich she would willingly have dispensed 
 with, Cecilia would soon have concluded 
 the arrangements respecting her dress by a 
 very sparing selection ; but the marchesa 
 would not permit this ; and the amazed 
 girl at length found herself in possession of 
 a wardrobe, the variety and elegance of 
 which was indeed worthy the spirit of the 
 donor. 
 
 Once more alone to her reflections, Ce- 
 cilia dwelt with increased emotions of sur- 
 prise and bewildered conjecture on her si- 
 tuation, and knew not how to account for 
 the treatment she experienced but by the 
 supposition that the marchese must be se- 
 cretly well informed as to the real rank of 
 h^r family ; but how far his knowledge on 
 this subject might affect her mother, it was 
 not possible to clearly comprehend; yet the 
 consideration and kindness which she her- 
 self experienced seemed to imply the most 
 friendly senfimenls towards the signora. 
 
 As this idea became by reflection more 
 firmly impressed on the mind of Cecilia, 
 she began to thit^k most favourably of the 
 marchese, whose candid and affecting ad- 
 vertence to the murdered relati\e to uhom 
 she bore an accidrntal resemblance, preju- 
 diced her considerably in his favour, and 
 efloctually banished all the harrowing* sur- 
 mises of his guilt, which had tortured her 
 during the night. From this subject the 
 thoughts of Cecilia again wanders d to her 
 mother — the scenes of her early days — and 
 the mysterious ciftumstances which bad
 
 227 
 
 separated her from iha;: rev^f^d and be- 
 loved parent; nor did these sad m^^fjitarions 
 cease till a summons to dhii.er ended 
 them. 
 
 Cecilia found the same party assembled 
 at dinner whom she had seen on the pre- 
 ceding day, and was met with such smiies 
 of welcome from the amiable Sigtmra deJla 
 Albina and the Cmnt Carraci as assured 
 her that she air ady possessed some portion 
 of (heir esteem and re^-ard ; an assurince 
 which, while it gave a most pleasiuabie 
 gratification to her mind, assisted in ena- 
 bling her to avoid being distressed by the 
 jealous solicitude of Faenza and Leonardo, 
 or the still- continued ill huoimr of OtU- 
 \ania, and the sly impertinence of th S'g- 
 nora B'^lltnzetto, her friends But ii' Ceci- 
 lia had some slight cause foe dissatisfaf - 
 lion during dinner^ the attmtive kindi ess 
 with which the marchese, who was pres*^' t, 
 and his lady, behaved to her, could sea <^ly 
 fail in reconciling her to the endurance of 
 what they could not, she knew, whoUj 
 prevent. 
 
 Ni;thing material occurred for t'ne re- 
 mainder of this dav ; and at the appj* ;d 
 hour the gondolas were ready to corvcy 
 the march"se, marche^a, their company^ 
 and atteudants, from Venice,
 
 228 
 
 CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 Far d iff rent were the sensations with 
 which Cecil a quitted the Pailazo di Ro- 
 Venza from those wa h wh'ch she had en- 
 tered it; and she now fullj experienced 
 the benefit she derived from the inter^ial 
 knowledge of her ni Iher's safitj, in find- 
 ing hei- spirits freed fiom that heavy de- 
 pression which, on hrr first enterii g Ve- 
 nice, had rendrrrd her wholly inattentive 
 to those (»bjecis which now irresistibly at- 
 tricted her notice, and she ventured to 
 g«ze on the lofty marble arch of the rialto 
 — the magnificent palaces aqd churches — 
 the nuu erous gtmdolas and boats gliding 
 along the canal, whose snoolh surface, 
 u 'uffiid by »he oars, r^fiected «he rays of 
 il'^. setting sun with emotions of mingled 
 surprise and a^mijation: nor was she less 
 charmed by t' e distant pr<»spects of those 
 beautiful and varied shores and islands 
 wJ-i<h aimost surround the laguna. The 
 attei'tion ot Cf« ilia was not, however, long 
 permitted (o rest on those charni'rg scenes; 
 for the Signor Faenza, escapinn: from the 
 side of Ottavania, who had vainly endea- 
 voured to secure his attendance to horself, 
 advanced to the seat whi< h Cecilia and the 
 Signora della Alba a occupied ; and as he 
 was pef fleetly well r^ceivod by the latter 
 lady, who appeared to entertain a \eYy fa-
 
 229 
 
 vourable opinion of him, he at length drew 
 her joung companion into conversation. 
 
 The Signor Faenza, with spirits elated 
 bj having obtained some degree of notice 
 from Cecilia, indulged in a display of all 
 the natural gaiety of his disposition^ and 
 for some time pursued a conversation which 
 he animated by a thousand lively sallies of 
 wit and pleasantry. 
 
 Leonardo di Rovenza, equally anxious 
 to obtain the envied distinction of Cecilia's 
 attention, possessed not, however, the lively 
 talents of his friend ; and, although he had 
 contrived to be near her^ he sat a silent and 
 internally mortified listener to a discourse 
 in which he could not join ; but he had 
 the good sense to perceive that she seemed 
 to regard Faenza with modest indifference, 
 and that she seldom spoke but in reply to 
 something said either by the Signora della 
 Aibina. or the Count Carraci. 
 
 Meanwhile Ottavania, and her insepa- 
 rable friends, the Bellinzettoes, seated at 
 a distance, indulged the mean propensities 
 of their nature in a multiplicity of invi- 
 dious remarks and innuendoes ; and the 
 marchese and marchesa were so deeply en- 
 gaged on some interesting subject, which 
 in low yet earnest tones they were dis- 
 cussing, that they were totally unobservant 
 of the re*^t of the p*rty. 
 
 At length the marchese was the first who 
 dst orbed tlie anangemont of these little 
 groups, which he did by infaminr the 
 Signor Faenza that the marchesa wished
 
 230 
 
 to converse with him for a few moments. 
 Faenza most reluctantlj arose to attend the 
 summons of the marchesa ; and the mar- 
 chese immediately took possession of the 
 seat he now left vacant. 
 
 The presence of the marchese gave a 
 different turn to the discourse. He intro- 
 duced serious and interesting subjects, 
 and gave the now exulting Leonardo op- 
 portuuities of displaying considerable taste 
 and knowledge on various topics. 
 
 From this moment the marchese scarcely 
 quitted the side of Cecilia during the 
 whole of the little voyage, which, howeve^ 
 was not of very long continuance, the Villa 
 di Rovenza being situated but a few miles 
 up the Brenta. 
 
 It was nearly dark when the party dis- 
 embaiked. Carriages were found in wait- 
 ing to convey the company to the Villa di 
 Rovenza, which stood about half a mile 
 from the banks of the river. A long and 
 shady avenue, leading up a gradual ascent, 
 was swiftly passed through, and the airy 
 porticoes of the edifice soon became visible 
 by the clear moonlight, which dijscovered 
 its marble walls and pillars. Lights from 
 the interior glittered at intervals between 
 the luxuriant foliage of the high shrubs 
 and trees that skirted the lawn ; and, on a 
 nearer approach, several domestics appeared 
 with torches under the front portico, avvait- 
 ing the arrival of the carriages. 
 
 Though few of the beauties of this 
 charming place could be seen by Cecilia
 
 S31 
 
 at such an hour, yet the elegant architec- 
 ture of the villa, the dark outline of the 
 waving woods and heights which extended 
 far behind it, and the soft murmur of a 
 fairy torrent, that rushing along its craggy 
 bed, mingled with the flowing waters of 
 the Brenta, and now glittered in the bright 
 moon-beam, together with the rich fra- 
 grance of the orange and lemon groves, 
 added to the perfume of a thousand flowers 
 and shrubs whose dewy essence scented the 
 calm air, soothed all her feelings, and en- 
 chanted her senses with a combination of 
 objects, to which imagination added new 
 charms ; for sufficient was perceptible to 
 give the most pleasing ideas of what was 
 yet to be beheld. 
 
 The interior of this villa was not calcu- 
 lated to disappoint the expectations which 
 the approach to it had excited. The fold- 
 ing entrance doors opened from the portico* 
 into a noble hall, the pavement of which 
 exhibited a beautiful mosaic of green and 
 white marble : alternate pillars of the same 
 supported a lofty dome, from which was 
 suspended by chains of green and silver 
 three resplendent lustres of curiously cut 
 glass, which reflected in innucierable glit- 
 terijjg hues the lights with which they 
 were illuminaied. 
 
 The form of the hall was an octagon. 
 Four sides were occupied bv large folding- 
 doors, which, except th • front entrance, 
 were entirely of glass;. Those or. two op- 
 posite sides were open, and admiUed par-
 
 233 
 
 tial views of the light and elegant saloons 
 to which they belonged. The door oppo- 
 site the entrance led further into the in- 
 terior of the building throug*h another hall 
 of smaller dimensions than the firsts and 
 was surrounded on three sides by the cor- 
 ridor of the upper apartments ; while the 
 fourth was occupied by a pair of folding- 
 doors, opening into a long marble arcade^ 
 and two broad flights of marble stairs, 
 ornamented with balusters of gilt bronze, 
 and illuminated by gilt lamps^ impending 
 from between the marble pillars that sup^ 
 ported the corridor. 
 
 From the front hall^ the marchesa and 
 her guests proceeded into one of the sa- 
 loons, where they found an elegant and 
 luxurious collation prepared. The coup 
 de ceil of this apartment was striking. 
 Cecilia, who was the only one of the party 
 who beheld it under the advantages which 
 novelty is said to confer, viewed it with 
 admiration. 
 
 The saloon was entirely of white mar- 
 ble ; the pure and glossy surface of which 
 was adorned with the most exquisite sculp- 
 ture, representing festooned wreaths of 
 laurel, the lively green of which, contrast- 
 ing with the polished white of the marble, 
 added animation to beauty. Lari*^e win- 
 dows, reaching from the floor to the ceil- 
 ing, admitted from beyond the coionade a 
 moonlight view of the lawn, the Brenta 
 flowing at its sloping foot ; and the out- 
 Jiae of thick woods and groves, fronci
 
 233 
 
 amidst whose luxuriant foliage^ partially 
 visible as the bright rays of the moon tell 
 on the white domes or turrets, appeared 
 tha neighbouring viUas that extended along 
 the river*s banks. From a transient glance 
 towards the prospect the eyes of Cecilia 
 again contemplated the interior of the sa- 
 loon. The elegantly festooned window 
 curtains, the covers of the sr.fas and chairs, 
 were of white satin^ richly embroidered 
 with green a-.d silver. The two extre- 
 mities} of the apartment displayed ranges of 
 white marble vases on silver tripod stands, 
 and containii^g the most rare and odorife- 
 rous plants^, both exotic and native. Su- 
 perb lustres, silver lamps and branches, 
 diifused air animated and brilliant light 
 around, and fully displayed the masterly 
 paintingswhich adorned the concave ceiling. 
 The tasteful arrangement of the elegant 
 and varied repast next engaged her atten- 
 tion ; but it was the chearful hilarity which 
 began to pervade the countenances, even 
 of Ottava^ia and her friends, that could 
 not fail to impart to the artless mind of 
 Cecilia a considerable degree of satisfac- 
 tion She suspected not that the Signora 
 di Rovenza's good humour proceeded from 
 the attentions which Faenza, piqued with 
 her own indifference, now thought proper 
 to pay to Ottavania; and, unconscious of 
 the cause, she began to indulge a hope 
 that the haughty insolence of the latter 
 might subside, while surrounded by the 
 unrestrained and elegant gsiiety which the
 
 234 
 
 marchese declared should distinguish their 
 stay at the villa. The spirits of the mar« 
 chese during supper were, iudeed^ consi- 
 dcrvibly elevated: he talked more than 
 usual ; spoke of balls and fetes, and seeded 
 to regard his son with particular marks of 
 satisfaction. Seated near Cecilia, and at- 
 tesitive only to her slight^ st look, Leonardo 
 scarcely perceived a difterence in his fa- 
 ther's manner, which was usually reserved 
 and commanding towards himself; but 
 now, vvhenever the marchese addressed 
 him, there was so evident a condescending 
 kiudnesr, in his tone, that at length even 
 the young Rovenza could not avoid no- 
 ticing it. This circumstance of the mar- 
 che'se's behaviour to Leonardo did not, 
 however, seem to create any jea'ous emo- 
 tions in the mi id of Ottavania, who seemed 
 to lose, in the delight she received from 
 Faenza's assiduities, every other feeling. 
 Indeed, before supper ended, her siilv ex- 
 ultation, and the looks of triuiuph which 
 she sometimes directed towards Cecilia, at 
 length suggested to the latter that Otta- 
 vania was most partial to the Signora Fa- 
 enza, and she immediately resolved to re- 
 press the slightest attention that he might 
 ever seem inclined to pay to herself; a 
 determination by no means disagreeable 
 for Cecilia to make, as the modest timidity 
 of her disposition at all times inclined her 
 to shrink from the idea of being an object 
 of notice. As to the distinguishing good 
 nature with which the marchese so singu-
 
 235 
 
 larly behaved to his son, Cecilia attributed 
 that to his probably having perceived soroe 
 piea-ing alteration in the naauners of Leo- 
 nardo, who now, indeed, appeared to be a 
 most tractable aud complacent character. 
 
 Almost immediately after supper, the 
 marchese, apologising for his abrupt 'de- 
 parture, bade hisadieas for the night ; il- 
 leging, in excuse for his early retiriiig, 
 a slight indisposition and fatigue. 
 
 To the surprise of Cecilia, allthechear- 
 ful hil irity which had so agreeably ani- 
 mated the little party while supper lasted, 
 seemed to vanish with the marchese. The 
 placid smile languished on the features of 
 the marchesa ; conversation soon became 
 broken and uninteresting, and each person 
 seemed pleased when the hour of retiring 
 gave them a plea to break up a party no 
 longer pleasing or enlivening. 
 
 CHAP. XXVUI, 
 
 Cecilia, as she was conducted to the 
 elegant apartment appropriated to her use, 
 could not forbear observing the splendour 
 which on every side met her view : — sta- 
 tues, paintings, gilding, and all the con- 
 comitants of wealth and taste, richly 
 adorned the halls and galleries through 
 which she was led to her room. 
 
 Her conductresses, two female domestics
 
 236 
 
 of the villa, omitted not to point out to her 
 notice the most rare and striking pictures 
 and ornaments ; and Cecilia mentally pro- 
 mised herself much future satisfaction in 
 the cX'smi iatjon of some of thv^ paintings^ 
 many of which were by the first masters of 
 the lialiao and Fiemish schools. But 
 amidst all this splendid profusion, the re- 
 collection of the unhappincss of the illus- 
 trious possessors of so much magnificence 
 anfj wealth, arose to the mind of Cecilia^ 
 with the conviction that grandeur is, in- 
 deeci, insufficient to create content orpeace^ 
 and 1 here fore not to he envied. 
 
 On reaching the apartment assigned her, 
 she found that it was perfectly correspon- 
 dent wiih those she had already seen — 
 tastefully superb and elegant. A bed- 
 chamber, dressing-room, and an oratory 
 beyond the latter, comprised the apart- 
 ments. Pale rose coloured silk hangings, 
 sofas, chairs, ornamented with the same 
 materials ; lofty mirrors, tapestried car- 
 petings, representing the most beautiful 
 flowers, alike adorned the dressing room 
 and bed chamber, while, surrounding the 
 bed, at a small distance from it, were af- 
 fixed from the ceiling to the floor wide 
 shades of transparent gauze, which, while 
 intended to guard the lovely sleeper from 
 the intrusion of those insects which the 
 warmth of an Italian climate but too often 
 renders obnoxious, excluded not the air, 
 nor concealed the magnificent bed, the
 
 237 
 
 flowing silk curtains^ drawn back and fes- 
 tooned with tasselsj nor the elegant de- 
 corations which otherwise adorned it. 
 
 The pensive eye of Cecilia glanced 
 mournfully arx)und the apartments : she 
 thought of her mother; and the sigh 
 which swelled her hearty assured her that 
 she could not enjoy, or scarcely admire, 
 those splendid scenes when that dear pa- 
 rent was not present. 
 
 From the dressing-room the officious at- 
 tendants eagerly led Cecilia into the oratory. 
 The walls of this small room were exqui- 
 sitely painted in religious subjects, each 
 side representing a different scene : on one, 
 the penitent Magdalen prostrate at the feet 
 of the Saviour after his resurrection. 
 
 This piece was of the most sublime and 
 affecting nature : astonishment, awe, ado- 
 ration, and the troubling rapture at be- 
 holding her Lord, indeed, arisen from the 
 grave, were admirably depicted in the 
 lovely countenance of Mary Magdalen, 
 while her attitude, and the tears that ap- 
 peared to pause on her cheek, seemed to 
 tell that the pangs of a ccatrite heart were 
 suspended by the conviction of that won- 
 drous truth which forms the foundation of 
 our faith and of our hopes ; while the looks 
 of her divine Master, beaming all the min- 
 gled majesty and benignity of omnipotent 
 love aiid mercy, pronounced pardon and 
 peace to the penitent! 
 
 Cecilia, devoutly pious, contemplated 
 this adnairable painting with feelings such
 
 238 
 
 as the reverential recollection of the great 
 event to which it alluded alone can inspire. 
 When one of the attendants called her at- 
 tention to another picture, she turned with 
 reluctance from viewing the first, while 
 she mentally aspirated a fervent petition io 
 heaven, that the wounded heart of guilt 
 might ever experience that sincere repent- 
 ance is, indeed, an acceptable sacrifice. 
 She then directed her looks to the painting 
 which the domestic had pointed out us 
 worthy her observation : it was a fine re- 
 presentation of the nativity. The figure 
 and countenance of the Virgin, as, with 
 awakened emotions of maternal love, she 
 bent over the divine infant, sleeping on her 
 lap, was characteristic of all that chastity, 
 modesty, and tenderness, which distin- 
 guished her nature. Tears almost ob- 
 scured the sight of Cecilia as, while gazing 
 on the holy fan?ily reclined on straw, sur- 
 rounded by the unconscious animals who 
 shared with such guests the rustic manger, 
 she tremulously exclaimed : *' Oh, pride, 
 this is a scene which should become the 
 object of thy contemplation, that the soul 
 of arrogance might be subdued by such a 
 lesson of humility !'* 
 
 '' Ay, ay, signora mio,*' now exclaimed 
 LodtUi, who had followed her lady and 
 the two attendants into the oratory, '' such 
 humbling lessons are badly enough wanted 
 by some people, I believe ; for if ever there 
 was a proud, ill-natured, good-for-nothing 
 thing, it is that—"
 
 239 
 
 ^'Be sileiitj I comraand you/' interrupted 
 Cecilia^ whose pious reflections were effec- 
 tually checked by the exclamation of her 
 imprudent and loquacious servant, and her 
 own fears that Lodelli's words alluded to 
 Ottavania. 
 
 '' Why, dear me, signora, I wasn't going 
 
 to say any harm — I was only going to^ '* 
 
 Cecilia, more terrified, looked extremely 
 displeased ; and Lodelli, now completely 
 siKnced, stole out of the oratory ; while 
 her lady, thanking the attendants for the 
 trouble they had taken^ dismissed them 
 both. 
 
 Cecilia remained for some time alone in 
 the oratory. Her devotion, ardent and 
 unstudied, soon calmed the perturbation 
 of her spirits; and when she entered her 
 chamber, she felt herself much more com- 
 posed than she had hitherto been ; yet she 
 found herself under the necessity of assum- 
 ing a serious gravity of looks and manners^ 
 in the hope that such an indication of dis- 
 approbation would be the means of render- 
 ing Lodelli more circumspect for the fu- 
 ture. But this was a veil with which the 
 ingenuous Cecilia could not long conceal 
 her native sweetness; for, on perceiving 
 the tears stealing down the cheeks of her 
 faithful attendant, who, silent and sorrow- 
 ful, seemed to feel the reproof in her hearty 
 she spoke in a tone of unfeigned kindness, 
 and dissipated the troubles of Lodelli by 
 a declaration of forgiveness ; nor could 
 she forbear a smile^ asr the whimsically-
 
 240 
 
 turned features of the young woman 
 changed their expression from grief to joy. 
 Lodelli had indeed a counteijauce perfectly 
 calculated to produce risibility in those 
 who took the trouble to examine it. There 
 was such an arch, laughing expression in 
 her lively black eyes^ her nose was so co- 
 mically turned up, and her broad, dimpled 
 cheeks^ and usually half open mouth, gave 
 such an idea of mingled cunning, good na- 
 ture, and simplicity, that few who had ob- 
 served her had ever mistaken her disposi- 
 tion. Her figure was as grotesque as her 
 face, being short and rather clumsy ; and 
 if poor Lodelli could boast of any attrac- 
 tions, they certainly consisted in her eyes 
 and the black curling hair which hung 
 over her forehead. Such had been the 
 eflfect of her appearance on the marthese's 
 household, that they had already singled 
 her out as a fit object for their mirth and 
 ridicule; but as Lodelli did not want for 
 some portion of discernment, she had soon 
 discovered their intentions. The Signora 
 Ottavania's women had been foremost in 
 this design. Lodelli had quarrelled with 
 them, in consequence; and it was to the 
 principal attendant of the signora that she 
 had alluded, when she so abruptly inter- 
 rupted the remarks of Cecilia in the 
 oratory. 
 
 Cecilia was no sooner made acquainted 
 with this circumstance than she perempto- 
 rily commanded Lodelli to avoid all further 
 altercation with any of the domestics.
 
 241 
 
 " A.nd am I to stand by like a fool, sjg- 
 nora; when I hear your name taken up in 
 such a manner?" was Lodelii's reply and 
 question. 
 
 '' You must not provoke people to use 
 my name/* said Cecilia, mildly. 
 
 '' Provoke, signora ! Why, it was they 
 that provoked me. I'm sure I would bite 
 my tongue through and through before I 
 would provoke any body to say such 
 Vicked things. Why, do you know^ sig- 
 nora, that that vile Ursula, Signora Otta- 
 vania's chief woman, began it all by say- 
 ing that her young lady would be sur(? to 
 charm all the fine elegant signors and ca^ 
 valiers that will be visiting here, in sprie 
 of the arts of any cunning young upstart 
 from the mountains, that his exceilenza the' 
 marchese chuses to bring into his family, 
 and make such a fuss about. Ay, signora, 
 and she said: ' It's well if my lord mar- 
 chese don't repent it soon,' for that the 
 signora was taken in already by she knew 
 who. Well, signora, I could'nt be such a 
 fool as not to know who she^ meant, and 
 I did give it her nicely in return. I let 
 her know that you •" 
 
 Shocked at having been made the sub- 
 ject of such a dispute, Cecilia had scarcely 
 power to check Lodelii's volubility, which 
 at length, however, she did, by a positive 
 command that she should never a2:ain trou« 
 ble her with such accounts. She then dis- 
 missed Lodclli with a reiterated command 
 
 vol". I. m
 
 242 
 
 to shiiii all further conversation with any 
 of the domestics. 
 
 This circumstance, although considered 
 by her as below her attention, was, how- 
 ever, sufficiently explanatory of the senti- 
 ments with which Ottavania regarded her ; 
 for Cecilia could not doubt but that Ur- 
 sula's insolent remarks were merely the, 
 echo of her lady's observations. This con- 
 viction determined Cecilia to maintain the 
 utmost reserve in her manners towards both 
 Leonardo and the male guests of the mar- 
 phese, as by such a conduct only she could 
 hope to evince to Ottavania that the de- 
 sire of attracting admiration was, indeed, 
 foreign to her nature. At length the al- 
 most unceasing anxiety of her mind was 
 suspended by the approach of sleep, and 
 on this night Cecilia enjoyed the luxury of* 
 undisturbed repose. 
 
 CHAP. XXIX. 
 
 On ihe following morning she again 
 met the usual party at breakfast. She v>as 
 received by the marchese and marchesa 
 With distinguishing kindness; and, to her 
 extreme astonishment, Ottavania addressed 
 her in a style equally polite and friendly. 
 This latter circumstance affected the art- 
 les- iVAiid of Cecilia with varied emotions ; 
 for as she now contemplated the animated 
 features of the Signora di Rovenzj^ and
 
 243 
 
 listened to the tone of her voice, '^^^hich, 
 although evidently affected, was still soft 
 and obliging:, she could hardly imagine 
 how it was possible for any human being 
 to assume an appearance of so much ami- 
 ableness, when their real character was so 
 opposite. Such, however, was the case. 
 Cecilia, with a sigh^ of deep regret, was 
 forced to acknowledge this to herself^ and 
 she could now only wonder what motive 
 could have induced Ottavania to adopt the 
 present system of dissimulation. 
 
 After breakfast, the marcliesa mentioned 
 her expectation of being visited by several 
 families in the neighbourliood in the even- 
 ing : Ottavania spoke of the party with 
 sufficient indication? of approving pleasure. 
 The marcbese testified an almost equal 
 degree of satisfaction; but Leonardo looked 
 giave, and was silent. 
 
 The marchesa soon proposed to walk, 
 and, leaninjr on the arm of Cecilia, led the 
 wav to the luxuriant oningcry, which was 
 formed into walks, shaded from the warm 
 siHi-beams by the umbrageous canoj)y of 
 intertwined branches th.it extended along 
 the alleys; but lovely a^ were the vista 
 prospects, this amusement soon tir^^J, and 
 the company separated to prepare for the 
 party expected in the evening. Tlie Sii? - 
 nora deila Albina, who appeared perfectly 
 indifferent as to the pleasures wliich the 
 gay concourse might bring with them to 
 the villa, recmined with the marchesa and 
 m2
 
 244 
 
 Cecilia, till a message from the marchese 
 compelled his lady to leave them. 
 
 The signora, with a friendly freedom 
 which pleased her young companion, now 
 proposed shewing the latter some parts of 
 the villa, which she had not as yet seen ; 
 and her offer was gratefully accepted by 
 Cecilia, who acquiesced more in thankful- 
 ness for the polite intention of amusing her, 
 than to gratify a curiosity which she did 
 not feel. 
 
 The signora conducted her through a 
 multiplicity of elegant rooms, till they 
 came to a remote apartment situated on the 
 samis side on which those of Cecilia were. 
 
 '' This room is really a nohle one," ob- 
 served the signora : '' it is a pity that the 
 njarchese will cot permit it to be used/* 
 
 Cecilia surveyed the room with atten- 
 tion. The furniture was costly, and in 
 every respect it equalled those apartments 
 she had already seen. After glancing her 
 eyes on some of the paintings which adorned 
 it, she enquired why the marchese had 
 thought proper to prohibit the use of this 
 room. 
 
 '' That is a question impossible to be 
 answered," returned the signora, '' as the 
 marchese has never deigned to gLve any 
 reason for this curious interdiction ; but 
 although this room is never used, it is, 
 you may perceive, very carefully pre- 
 served. Superstition might pronounce it 
 haunted ; but it is never locked up ; and
 
 245 
 
 who would think of a ghost in a room that 
 was not locked up ?" 
 
 Cecilia smiled at the raillery of the sig- 
 nora^ but she could not forbear remarking 
 that the room had somewhat of a gloomy 
 aspect. 
 
 '' Why, I think it has/' said the sig- 
 nora^ looking around her. " This room/* 
 she added, '' once formed the suite of the 
 apartments which you now occupy, my 
 young friend. Look/' she continued; 
 "^ this door (and she approached one) 
 '' opens into th« oratory." The signora 
 then threw open the door, and Cecilia fol- 
 lowed her into the sacred recess. The 
 attention of the latter was instantly rivetted 
 by the sudden view of the window of Uie 
 oratory, which, on the precedii»g night, 
 she could not observe. It was high, and 
 the Gothic arched frame contained a case- 
 ment, on which was painted in glowing 
 colours, and evidently by a masterly band, 
 a striking representation of the crucifixion. 
 
 Cecilia gazed for a moment on the awful 
 scene^ now rendered doubly impressive by 
 being illumniated by the full blaze of tlie 
 sun, which added to the brilliant colour- 
 ing of the stained glass. Trembling, awe- 
 struck, full of pious humilit}, sorrow^ 
 love, and veneration, she ventured not long 
 to look intently on that tremendous scene. 
 Her eyes, dimmed with tears, now fell on 
 the altar beneath the window. It was co- 
 vered with black velvet : an image of the 
 Virgin, an hour-glass, and a memento 
 M 3
 
 246 
 
 morij with an open prayer-book, were 
 placed upon it. 
 
 Fain would she have enquired wlio had 
 (Occupied the apartments prior to herself; 
 for the sight of the memento mGri iiripUed 
 that some person had been engaged in pe- 
 nitential devotion whenever they had vi- 
 sited the oratory. 
 
 The signora «parcd Cecilia the trouble 
 of enquiries, b^ expressing lier owii sur- 
 prise at the view of the skull a.ud cross- 
 bones. *' It is Very singular !" exclaimed 
 the former : '' It never could have been 
 placed there when the rooms were used 
 
 by "* And here the signora suddenly 
 
 checked herself, on perceiving the look of 
 afixious attenticn with which Cecilia was 
 observing her. After a momentary pause, 
 the sigucra seemed to recover from her 
 transient confusion; and looking on her 
 you rig companion with a mildly-serious 
 and impressive glance, slie said — 
 
 '' My very blameable curiosity and in- 
 advertence has betrayed me into an error 
 Avhich might be injurious to you, if not 
 timely informed thai the most disagreeable 
 consequences might result from making 
 enquiries relative to any mystery perceiva- 
 ble, in the family or residences of the mar- 
 chese. (Circumstances have occurred to 
 him in his life, to which, although many 
 years are past, he cannot bear the slightest 
 reference ; and therefore in pity to the 
 feelings of one, whose virtues are predo- 
 minant over his weaknesses, those subjects
 
 247 
 
 are carefully avoided by his friends : his 
 domestics, of coarse, dare not revert to 
 them. You^ amiable Cecilia, are doubt- 
 less wholly unacquainted with those events ; 
 and, as such is the case, exposed to the 
 too probable danger of Avounding his feel- 
 ings by some unconscious observations or 
 enquiries, which may better be avoided, 
 permit me then to take the liberty of a 
 friend", and gently caution you to be re- 
 served, even on the most trivial points. 
 \ou will pardon my freedom^ and the 
 seeming ambiguity of my expressions, 
 should you ever learn to what I allude.'* 
 
 Cecilia warmly testified her grateful 
 acknowledgments for tlie signora's hints, 
 and promised to remember them. 
 
 *^' And now wc will leave (his place,*' 
 said the signora, sighing and looking 
 mournfully around. 
 
 They then proceeded to the dressing- 
 room ; and the signora almost immediately 
 after retired from the apartments of Ce- 
 cilia, leaving the latter a prey to new con,- 
 jectures; but as conjecture never satisfied 
 the mind of Cecilia, she essayed to repel 
 its misleadin«: influecce, bv direct^'uo- her 
 attention to the lovely views which the 
 windows of her apartments permitted her 
 to behold. Both the dressing-room and 
 chamber commanded a south-east aspect. 
 The prospects were varied and extensive. 
 The groves of orange, lemon, citron, and 
 myrtle, which almost encompassed the 
 vijla^ tilled ihe warm air with refreshing 
 IM 4 ' .
 
 MS 
 
 fragrance. Cecilia, while she lingered at 
 the open lattice^ almost forgot her cares^ 
 as her delighted eyes roved over the lux- 
 uriant scene. The distant vinevards — the 
 
 t/ 
 
 extended plantations of the glowing mul- 
 berry — the dark olive^ tall groyes of palm, 
 chesnut, cedar^ cypress^ and pities, from 
 amidst whose lofty shade, pavilions and 
 villas, seated on the wooded uplands^ and 
 which were partially discoverable, alter- 
 nately engaged the contemplation of Ceci- 
 lia; bather attention was at length wholly 
 fixed on a small temple, the marble columns 
 and dome of which, overshadowed by ma- 
 jestic plane trees, were so much concealed 
 by the surrounding groves, that she had 
 not at first observed it. This light and 
 elegant structure appeared to belong to the 
 Villa di Rovenza; for it stood on the 
 summit of the eminence, on the side of 
 which the villa was e'rected. The situation 
 of the temple seemed to promise even more 
 enchanting prospects than those she had 
 already beheld, and she resolved to visit 
 it as soon as a proper opportunity should 
 occur. Charmed, however, as was Ceci- 
 lia with the rich and varied country, yet 
 sighs of regret mingled with her emotions 
 of pleasure : she remembered the lovely 
 scenes of her earliest days; and; as ima- 
 gination contrasted the luxuriapt and sub- 
 lime shores of the LagoMaggiore with the 
 present prospect, she turned aside and 
 wept. 
 
 Atiainof mournfully-tender ideas now*
 
 249 
 
 ru*iliecl on her heart; but from the indul- 
 gence of the distressing, yet sadly pleasing- 
 emotions which they excited in her mind, 
 she was prevented by the necessity of pre- 
 paring to meet the family at dinner. 
 
 None but the usual party were assembled 
 at this repast. Chearfulness and good- 
 nature seemed to be still the prevailing 
 humour of the marchese, his family^ and 
 his guests ; and had not Cecilia been al- 
 ready acquainted with the real characters 
 of some present, she might have believed 
 them as amiable as they appeared to be 
 happy. 
 
 CHAP. XXX. 
 
 The expected visitors arrived at rather 
 an early hour in the evenings and were 
 received by the marchesa in a spacious and 
 magnificent saloon, which commanded a 
 full view of the Brenta, and of the nu- 
 merous parties which were beginning to 
 assemble on the luxuriant banks of the 
 river, all eager for pleasure, and seeking 
 the enjoyment of it in all the delights of 
 music, the dance, the promenade, or the 
 conversation group. 
 
 This was the first time that Cecilia had 
 ever found herself in such a crowded as- 
 sembly ; and although supported by the 
 avowed friendship and attention with whicli 
 the marchese and marchesa distinguished 
 M 5
 
 2bO 
 
 her, she yet experienced a degree of timi- 
 dity and restraint which she could not 
 conquer. Her beauty^ which could scarce- 
 ly receive addition from the advantages of 
 dress^ was so striking — the graceful mo- 
 desty and elegance of her person and air 
 so impressive and attracthig, that she soon 
 found herself an object of general curio- 
 sity, admiration, and attention. The mar- 
 ehesa had introduced her to her friends as 
 a young lady of noble birth, and every 
 person present became anxious to discover 
 to what family she was related ; but as de- 
 corum forbade all importunate enquiries, 
 they were obliged to rest satisfied with the 
 idea that her rank and connexions must 
 indeed be exalted, as she seemed to be re- 
 garded by the Marchese and Marchesa di 
 Rovenza with so much friendship and 
 respect; 
 
 From the painful examination to which 
 slie was exposed, Cecilia was at length re- 
 lieved, when the elegantly-illuminated 
 sa*!oons and gardens were thrown open to 
 the company, some of whom preferred' the 
 charms of music, in the cool and airy pa- 
 vilions, to the attractions of play. Ceci- 
 lia, however, remained almost the whole 
 of the evening by the side of the marchesa, 
 who never engaged in any of the amuse- 
 ments of chance, to which she latterly had 
 an extreme dislike ; and thus her young 
 companion became secured from the im- 
 portunate attentions of many gentkmen, 
 who seemed anxious to address ler. The
 
 251 
 
 situation of Cecilia permitted lier also the 
 advantage of being at liberty to attempt to 
 form some opinion of the gay assemblage 
 by which she was surrounded ; but her in- 
 experience, and the simple ingenuousness 
 of her disposition^ prevented her being ca- 
 pable of discerning those seemingly trifling 
 traits, which betray, in some measure, to 
 the eye of discrimination some part of the 
 real dispositions of most people. Leonardo 
 di Rovenza^ however, would have fully 
 informed her of the characters of almost 
 all who were present ; but, in consequence 
 of her previous resolution to repel his as- 
 siduities, she aftected so cool a reserve to- 
 wards him, that he would soon have been 
 compelled to retire from her in despair, 
 had not even the marchese called him aside, 
 and, in a low but authoritative tone, com- 
 manded him to abstain from any particular 
 attentions to the young Signora di Berlotti 
 for the remainder of the evening. Leonardo 
 bowed a reluctant obedience, and, strug- 
 gling with his surprise and vexation, flew 
 to kill reflection at the gaming-table. 
 
 The command of the marchese, direct- 
 ing the absence of his son^ had not been 
 delivered in so under a tone as to escape 
 the ear of Cecilia, who, imagining that 
 the latter had perceived how much she had 
 endeavoured to avoid the attentions of Leo- 
 nardo, attributed the marchese 's ordering 
 him away to a polite wish of contributing 
 to her ease. The marchese's motive for so 
 doing was,, however, very diiferent. At
 
 252 
 
 all events, the circumstance %vas peculiarly 
 pleasing to Cecilia. But while this lovelj 
 girl, undazzled by the novel splendour 
 which surrounded her, shrunk with timid 
 delicacj from the gaze of admiration^ Ot- 
 tavania di Rovenza displayed alternately^ 
 the most coquettish airs, and the boldest 
 levity of manners :— a levity which, while 
 it frequently caused the blush of displea- 
 sure and confusion to rise-op the pale cheek 
 of her mother, was yet sanctioned by the 
 approving smiles of the marchese, who be- 
 held, in the uncommon conduct of his 
 daughter, only the exuberance of high 
 spirits, animated by the gaiety of the scene. 
 Ottavania, however, still continued to 
 treat Cecilia with the apparent good-na- 
 tured familiarity which she had adopted in 
 the morning ; but the latter could not help 
 fanc}'ing that she discerned a faint and 
 supercilious sneer mingling with her hy- 
 pocritical smile. 
 
 The generous and noble mind of Cecilia 
 recoiled from the appearance of intimacy 
 with such a being. Most ardently did she 
 .%igh for the arrival of that hour which 
 niight restore her to the arms of that af- 
 fectionate parent, who had ever taught her 
 to consider dissimulation as one of the mean- 
 est and most degrading vices. Disgust and 
 dissatisfaction soon assailed her heart, and 
 her eyes wandered over the brilliant scene 
 without encountering one object which 
 could either arouse or interest her, till the 
 Hjarchesa, who was now jaified by several
 
 253 
 
 ladies, proposed visUing the gardens, where 
 a few select groups were entertaining 
 themselves with music and walking. 
 
 The mind of Cecilia was now soon 
 calmed bj the soothing influence of the 
 sweet and plaintive melody which resounded 
 from the portico of a pavilion at one of the 
 extremities of the gardens ; and as she 
 drew nearer to the sounds, she distinguished 
 that they were repeated bj an echo, whose 
 soft reverberations, replying to the harmo- 
 nious voices of the singers and the dulcet 
 tones of the instruments, produced the most 
 charming effect. 
 
 The marchesa, and the ladies who had 
 accompanied her into the gardens^ paused 
 in their walk to speak to some gentlemen 
 who met them at the turning of the path, 
 which at this spot terminated in an oval 
 space, in the middle of which was a mar- 
 ble fountain surrounded by tall cypress- 
 trees. The effect of the water, as it rose 
 in a shining column to a considerable 
 height, and returned into the spacious ba- 
 son, reflecting the brilliance of innumera- 
 ble lampS;, and glittering amid the dark 
 and waving branches of the cypress-trees, 
 was so beautiful, that Cecilia, while the 
 marchesa was conversing with the group 
 they had met, lingered to observe it. The 
 gentle dashing- of the fountain, mingling 
 with the melodious strains of the music, 
 combined to aid the pensive sadness of her 
 heart; and for some moments she was un- 
 conscious that she no longer heard the
 
 254 
 
 voices of the niarcliesa and her friends. 
 When^ however, she recovered from her 
 transient reverie/ she found herself alone 
 on the brink of the fountain. An invo- 
 luntary tremor seized her frame ; but soon 
 ashamed of suffering so trivial a circum- 
 stance to aftect her in such a manner^ she 
 essayed to recal her compo^ure^ and in- 
 stantly looked around to discover the path 
 the raarchesa and her companions had pur- 
 sued. Her perplexity and uneasiness re- 
 turned^ on perceiving that four shaded 
 alleys^ which/ how^ever^ were partly illu- 
 minated, terminated around the space in 
 which the fountain was placed. Unknow- 
 ing which direction the marchesa had taken^ 
 she could not decide which alley to ^nter, 
 and was on the point of trying to return 
 to the villa^ when the Signor Faenza^ sud- 
 denly emerging from one of the walks, 
 perceived her. Starting, and uttering an 
 exclamation indicative of surprise and 
 pleasure, he addressed her, by enquiring 
 whether he could be of any service, as he 
 observed she appeared distressed and em- 
 barrassed. 
 
 Cecilia replied, by informing him how 
 she had missed the marchesa ; and, after a 
 momentary pause, he requested permission 
 to conduct her to that lady. 
 
 Cecilia did not positively decline his of- 
 fer ; but she evinced her reluctance to 
 accept of it, by requesting him to merely 
 direct her to the walk which the marchesa 
 had taken. Faenza could not exactly say
 
 2o3 
 
 wliicb, but lie presumed it must be tbe one 
 leading to tbe pavilion ; and be again en- 
 treated permission to attend ber thitber. 
 Sbe now perceiving tbat, sbould sbe any 
 longer besitate to sufter bis attendance^ sbe 
 sbould only expose berself to a tbousand 
 importunities, therefore timidly assented, 
 and be immediately conducted ber into one 
 of the covered walks. Tbe alley was not 
 of any considerable lengthy and as they 
 proceeded^ the music was now more clearly 
 heard. 
 
 Cecilia expressed a hope that it would 
 terminate near the pavilion. Tbe Signor 
 Faenza said that was not the case^ as they 
 must traverse several others ere they could 
 reach the pavilion, the paths leading to 
 which were very circuitous. The walk 
 seemed wholly deserted, and Cecilia men- 
 tally regretted that she had ventured into 
 it. Suddenly the music ceased. An idea 
 that the party might be leaving the pavi- 
 lion occurred to her. She mentioned her 
 conjecture, and begged to be conducted 
 back to tbe villa. The Signor Faenza as- 
 sured her that she was mistaken : they often 
 paused, he said, to select new pieces. He 
 represented that, as she was now just at 
 the termination of the walk, it would be 
 better to proceed to the pavilion than to 
 rt'.turn. His polite and respectful manner 
 induced Cecilia to assent to their proceed- 
 ing, and in a few moments they quitted 
 tbe walk, and entered tbe winding path of 
 a small wilderness; composed of the most
 
 256 
 
 beautiful groves of myrtles^, laurels^ rose- 
 trees^ and a variety of other shrubs. 
 
 '' We shall but ascend the path to yon- 
 der summit/' said Faenza^ '' and then 
 shall reach the pavilion/' 
 
 The wild loneliness of the path — the few 
 lamps, but thinly scattered amid the dark 
 foliage — and the air of desertion which pre- 
 vailed around, struck Cecilia with a ter- 
 rific sense of her own imprudence and 
 impropriety in accompanying a stranger to 
 such a spot. She paused, and declared 
 she must return. She could not perceive 
 the features of the Signor Faenza ; but she 
 could easily comprehend, from the tone of 
 his voice, that he did not approve her de- 
 claration. He begged her to ascend a 
 little higher, and assured her she would 
 then behold the lights in the building. 
 Cecilia, fearing to betray her own alarms, 
 proceeded a few paces onv/ard, and she 
 then indeed plainly distinguished the bril- 
 liant lamps entwined around some pillars, 
 which she imagined to belong to the por- 
 tico of the pavilion. With quickened 
 steps she now pursued the path, and in a 
 few minutes found herself at the summit 
 of the eminence, and at the foot of the 
 marble steps of the lonely templfe she had 
 so much admired from the window of her 
 apartment. 
 
 The indignant consternation into which 
 she was plunged by this discovery, could 
 only be exceeded by her terror and amaze- 
 ment. For some moments she was inca-
 
 257 
 
 pable of replying to Faenza, wlio^ now 
 bending on his knee before her^ was eagerly 
 imploring her pardon^ and beseeching her 
 to attribute the deception he had used to 
 the excess of that passion which had im- 
 pelled him to seize the present^ and per- 
 haps the only opportunity he might ever 
 find of conversing with her alone^ or of 
 assurino; her that he could not live without 
 her. He then proceeded to request her 
 permission to apply to the marchese, or 
 any other friend she should name^ whose 
 approbation might be necessary to their 
 union. 
 
 This curious and confident declaration 
 and request restored Cecilia to recollection^ 
 and instantly perceiving the necessity of 
 repelling his advances with calm firmness^ 
 she endeavoured to conquer the agitation 
 and terror of her mind ; and without 
 deigning to reply to iii§ speech, she de- 
 manded to be instantly conducted to the 
 villa. 
 
 '' Not till you have pronounced my 
 pardon^ and afforded me some sweet as- 
 surance that I may hope to obtain your 
 favour, can I consent to your leaving this 
 spot, enchanting and lovely Cecilia !" said 
 Faenza ; and catching the corner of her 
 robe, he attempted to detain her^ as, with 
 a sudden motion, she endeavoured to fly 
 down the path. 
 
 '' Release rae, signor, I command V* 
 cried the still more alarmed Cecilia, seek- 
 ing to disengage her drapery from his rude
 
 258 
 
 grasp : *' jou cimnot imagine that such 
 base and di?]i: nourable conduct should in- 
 cline me to hear you." 
 
 '' Charming Cecilia! impute this con- 
 duct to the loxc.c. of those feclinfrs which 
 devour me. Say but that you pardon me, 
 and will perr ^t me to hope, and I will in- 
 stantly attenci you to the villa/' 
 
 '' Suffer me to go hence, and then I will 
 pardon you/' returned the trembling Ce- 
 cilia. 
 
 '' And you will be mine?" 
 
 '' Yours ! never ! Unhand me, signer ! 
 How can you presume to treat me thus? 
 [[struggling to release her hand, which he 
 now seizedj The Marchose di Rovenza 
 will highly resent this insolence to one un- 
 der his protection." 
 
 '* Lovely, angelic girl! canyon suppose 
 that the fear of the marchese's indignation 
 — the indignation of the whole world, could 
 deter me from availing myself of this op- 
 portunity of pleading the ardent passion 
 with which you have inspired me ? No ! 
 Let all the powers of earth combine to 
 threaten me with even more than mortal 
 vengeance, still would I not desist. Urge 
 nie not then to despair, lest the impetuosity 
 of my feelings should drive me into mad- 
 ness." 
 
 '' Insolent absurdity !** exclaimed Ce- 
 cilia, while, animated by contempt and in- 
 dignation, she made a sudden effort to dis- 
 engage her liand from his, and succeeding, 
 rushed past him with the swiftness of
 
 ^59 
 
 lightning towards the path leading back 
 to the villa : but her flight was vain ; 
 Facnza, instantly recovering from the 
 emotion of surprise which her precipitation 
 had occasioned him^ pursued/ and quickly 
 overtaking the trembling fugitive^ caught 
 her in his arms, and^ unmindful of her 
 piercing shrieks, hurried her back, and 
 bore her up the steps of the light colonnade 
 that surrounded the temple. 
 
 The temple, of a circular form, was 
 entirely open. The cupola, which rose in 
 the middle, was supported by a circular 
 range of Corinthian coluums. Wreaths of 
 laurel were festooned between the columns, 
 and from these were suspended the coloured 
 lamps which illuminated the temple. 
 
 On passing the colonnade, Faenza re- 
 leased not the now almost fainting Cecilia 
 from his embrace; but scarcely had he 
 reached the interior of the temple, than a 
 loud and thrilling voice was heard to ex- 
 claim — " Ruffian, forbear \" and in the 
 next moment a tall gigantic figure rushed 
 forward from bt'tween the opposite pillars, 
 and ere Faenza could reply to this unex- 
 pected intruder, the trembling form . of 
 Cecilia was torn from his arms, and him- 
 self hurled, by the athletic arm of the 
 stranger, down the steps of the colonnade, 
 and from thence he fell headlong amidst 
 the thickly entwined shrubs that clothed 
 the almost perpendicular precipice on 
 which the temple stood. 
 
 Cecilia had fallen on the marble pave-
 
 260 
 
 ment, but she had not fainted ; and as she 
 now turned her grateful looks on her de- 
 liverer, and feebly assayed to rise^ she dis- 
 covered in the lofty form that stood beside 
 her the robber Arigeio, The long black 
 cloak he now wore was thrown open, anfl 
 the dreadful implements of deatli — the 
 glittering dagger^ the ci meter, and enor- 
 mous pistols^ were folly visible; while the 
 scarlet plume that waved in his cap and 
 o'ershadowed his brow, seemed to add a 
 deeper gloom to the wild ferocity of his 
 looks, which were now fixed on Cecilia 
 wiUi an expression of the most severe en- 
 quiry. 
 
 The mingled emotions of wonder, terror, 
 and gratitude wliich at this moment strug- 
 gled in the bosom of Cecilia, were poNver- 
 ful almost beyond endurance. Autj'elo 
 seemed struck by her agitation : he seized 
 hcT (:(;lu and treriibling hand, and raised her 
 from the chilling pavement. She was 
 nearly incapable of motion, and was com- 
 pelled to support herself against one of the 
 pillars, while Guicciardini, in hollow and 
 impressive accents, articulated — " Im- 
 prudent Cecilia ! could 'st thou not stand 
 the test of temptation for so short a space 
 of time ! — Could'st thou not resist the 
 artful voice of flattery that lured thee 
 here to meet destruction ? Speak," he add- 
 ed, in a tremulous tone, " and say, how 
 camest thou here ?'* 
 
 Cecilia was on the point of replying : 
 her trembling lips were opened to vindicate
 
 261 
 
 herself from those suspicions which^ even 
 in the robber Angelo, she felt were de- 
 grading to her name^ when she was pre- 
 vented speaking b^ hearing the sounds of 
 several loud voices^, which proclaimed some 
 persons approaching the temple. 
 
 Angelo wildly started. He cast a hur- 
 ried and ferocious glance around, and then 
 directing a look of terrific meaning to- 
 wards Cecilia, he muttered, in a hollow 
 whisper : '' Mention but the name of An- 
 gelo Guicciardini as your preserver, and 
 your ruin is inevitable. Be silent, as you 
 value the lives of your mother and vour- 
 .self.^^ 
 
 '' My mother ! Oh, I implore you, tell 
 me! Say, what of that dear parent?'* 
 cried Cecilia, with almost frantic eager- 
 ness, but the robber was already gone : he 
 had fled precipitately from the temple ; 
 and, in the next moment, Leonardo di 
 Rovenza, followed by Ottavania, and a 
 number of the visitors, rushed up the steps 
 of the colonnade. 
 
 " There! behold her, she is here!'* 
 exclaimed the Signora di Rovenza, in a 
 tone of mingled malice, anger, and exult- 
 ation, as she pointed to the almost lifeless 
 form of Cecilia, who, pale, agitated, and 
 motionless, again reclined her head against 
 one of the pillars. In an instant the lovely 
 girl was surrounded by the groups who 
 had entered, and now found herself Vlip- 
 ported by the friendly arm of the Signora 
 della Albina, who^ in a voice of earnest
 
 262 
 
 entreaty and anxiety, demanded therefore 
 she had strayed so far from the frequented 
 parts of the gardens. 
 
 Cecilia faintly articulated a scarcely 
 audible explanation of the accident which 
 had divided her from the marchesa and 
 her party, and then gave a brief account 
 of the conduct of the Signor Faenza, con- 
 cluding by saying she had been delivered 
 from the insolent importunities of the sip;- 
 iior by the appearance of a stranger, who 
 had driven him from the temple. 
 
 Leonardo, enraged by tbis detail, flew 
 oif in search of Faenza, while Ottavania, 
 -with a loud, insulting laugh, cried : 
 *^*^ Truly, the Signora Cecilia's tale is most 
 charmingly romantic; but it would be in- 
 finitely more to her advantage, had it been 
 distinguished for its veracity." 
 
 "■ And who shall doubt m}^ veracity, 
 signora ?* demanded Cecilia, amazement 
 and indignation inspiring her with a tran- 
 sient gleam of spirit. 
 
 '' Who \" retorted Ottavania, in a voice 
 of angry surprise : *' every person present ; 
 for they must suppose you voluntarily ac- 
 companied the signor hither." 
 
 '^' That is a point which the Signora 
 Cecilia does not dispute," observed the 
 Count Carraci ; '' but she w as led to do 
 so by the mistaken confidence that she 
 placed in the honour of the Signor Faenza, 
 wh^ declared he would conduct her to the 
 pavilion." 
 
 Again Ottavania laughed spitefully;
 
 263 
 
 but ere she could make any further ma- 
 licious remarks, the Signer Faenza came 
 limping into the temple. His whole ap- 
 pearance was very much deranged, but 
 his countenance exhibited no marks of un- 
 easiness or vexation. Every eye was fixed 
 upon him as he entered. He looked round 
 and laufj:hed, and with an air of perfect 
 non-chakiLCc cast a glance on Cecilia ; 
 and then, affecting a leok of ludicrous 
 gravity, contemplated his own figure^ and, 
 Avith a shrug, drawled out — 
 
 '' I'm in a most woeful plight^, it is 
 true ; and if ever I indulge in the frolic of 
 running away with a peerless virgin again, 
 I hope I may encounter as formidable a 
 knight as the horrible one devoted to the 
 service of the Signora Cecilia di Berlotti/* 
 And now, with a ridiculously piteous look,, 
 he attempted to kneel at the feet of Ceci- 
 lia, who knew not how to fly from this 
 scene of insultitig mockery, but instantly 
 starting back, he exclaimed : ^^ It w^on't 
 do — 1 am so confoundedly crippled that, 
 by my life, signora, I cannot — I cannot 
 bend my knee with reference due to solicit 
 your pardon ; but I will have the honesty 
 to acknowledge that I deserve your resent- 
 ment for having so foolishly drawn you 
 hither; but, in fiict, when I met you alone 
 in that retired walk, I could not resist the 
 ardent desire which seized me to find out 
 how young and peerless maidens look and 
 behave, when some terrible enchanter car- 
 ries thern off to his castle in the clouds.
 
 264 
 
 and there makes love to them; and this 
 was my sole motive for conducting you to 
 this solitary and elevated spot. I must 
 confess that my expectations and hopes 
 were more than answered ; for I not only 
 had the gratification of beholding in you 
 all the fears and disdain which spotless 
 damsels of old were famous for on like 
 occasions ; but lo ! when I was on the 
 point of releasing my captive princess, her 
 true and valorous knight appears, and, 
 without deigning me an honorable chal- 
 lenge, seized me with an iron-handed grasp, 
 and sends me headlong amongst the thorns 
 and briars which compose the clievaux-de- 
 freize boundary of this my temporary cas- 
 tle; and, certes, I should have instantly 
 plunged into the horrible gulph below, had 
 not a friendly tree checked my fall. Here 
 I lay entangled for a moment, cursing my 
 silly head for engaging in such an adven- 
 ture, till my curiosity to discover who was 
 my gigantic rival enabled me to scramble 
 from among the bushes ; and although I 
 was lame, and knew not but that some fly- 
 ing dragon, or divers other monsters, fierce 
 as the one I had already encountered, 
 might oppose my return, I stole back to 
 the steps of the colonnade, but was only in 
 time to hear him say something about his 
 name being Angelo, and to see him vanish 
 like a ghost on hearing the voices of the 
 party now assembled in the temple, which 
 was, indeed, a most uncommon prank for 
 a knight to play, as he should, with all
 
 26d 
 
 due loyalty, have staidj and faced the 
 enemy.'* 
 
 The ludicrous turn which Faenza had 
 thus o'iven to his behaviour to Cecilia 
 might have led some of the company to 
 imagine that he had really hern in jest, 
 had not the very pointed admiration w^hich 
 he had betrayed, even from the_ fir^t mo- 
 ment of his having ^een her, rendered his 
 assertions dubious ; but as he now threw 
 aside his raillery, and made a very serious 
 apology for his conduct — and vrlijch apo- 
 logy was received by Cecilia, no further 
 notice could betaken of the aflair: and a^ 
 she was now sufficient! v rerovered from 
 her perturbation to quit the temple, the 
 company decided to return immediately to 
 the villa, many being eager to learn who 
 this mysterious knight would prove to be; 
 for as none but the Marcliese or Marchesa 
 di Rovenza were entitled to question Ce- 
 cilia on the stibject, hopes were entertained 
 that they would make some enquiries in 
 their presence, and thus afford an rppor- 
 tunitv for the o-rati fixation of curiositv. 
 
 CHAP. XXX 1, 
 
 In their way to the villa the whole parly 
 was tnet by the marchesa if.\\(\ srVerai other 
 ladies. At the sight of Cecilia tb4s ami- 
 able lady, who had suffered considerable 
 uneasiness while the latter was* missing, 
 
 Vi)L. I. N
 
 26(5 
 
 flew towards her }oung protegee, and 
 Avhile she testified the joy she felt on again 
 beholding her, discovered, bj her enqui- 
 ries, that she was still a stranger to the 
 recent adver.ture. 
 
 A whimsical account of the affair was 
 now given to the niarchesa. Cecilia, by 
 no means desirous of placing it in a more 
 serious point of view, endeavoured to 
 siiiile ; bnt when the marchesa eagerly en- 
 quired who was tlie person that had so 
 singularly conw to her relief, the confused 
 girl hesitated, &nd was under the necessity 
 of ^utreatiiig permission to be sileiit on 
 that subject. The marchesa secretly con- 
 demned herself for having as yet asked the 
 question, and instantly granted the request 
 of Cecilia; adding, with considerate at- 
 tention to the name of her young friend — 
 '' You will tell me then in private who is 
 this knight of wondrous prowess/' 
 
 At this moment the Mavchese di Ro- 
 venza appeared, followed by his son. The 
 looks of the marchese were sufficiently se- 
 vere and indignant, but the eyes of Leo- 
 nardo sparkled with fury when they en- 
 countered the Signor Faenza. 
 
 An explanation instantly took place ; 
 and an ample apology on the part of the 
 Signor Faenza to the marchese prevented 
 all danger of disagreeable consequences. 
 
 To the surprise of every one present 
 the marchese did not ask Cecilia a single 
 question relative to the affair. 
 
 The company now returned to the villa>
 
 S67 
 
 where an elegant collation awaited them, 
 and did not separate till the light of the 
 dawn warned them to retire. 
 
 Cecilia withdrew for a few hours to her 
 chamber ; but her reflections on the oc- 
 currences of the evening were but too well 
 calculated to banish repose from her pil- 
 low. The singular and sudden appearance 
 of the robber Angelo in the temple was a 
 circumstance almost beyond credibility^ 
 and his motive for being there incompre- 
 liensible. The recollection of his strange 
 promise of protection to herself was now 
 revived with impressive force in her mind. 
 In the recent instance he had undoubtedly 
 fulfilled that promise, by saving her from 
 the insults of Faenza ; but how to account 
 for Angelo's being near at such a moment^ 
 seemed wholly beyond her power. The 
 manner in which he had treated Faenza 
 implied an earnest intention of serving her, 
 and yet she could not possibly conceive 
 wherefore a man of such a character, and 
 of such pursuits, should run all the hazard 
 of encountering the danger which might 
 attend his having ventured into the gardens 
 of the Villa di Rovenza on such a night, 
 merely to watch over and guard her. The 
 horrible profession of Angelo Guicciardini 
 might be supposed to render his presence 
 repeatedly necessary in the haunts of his 
 desperate bands, and therefore nothing 
 could be more extraordinary than his lurk- 
 ing about the villa, unless, indeed, his so 
 doing might be attributed to some latent 
 n2
 
 26S 
 
 design against herself, or proceeded from 
 an intention of plunder. The fonner sur- 
 mise seemed the most consonant to proha- 
 bilitj. Ceciiia now started in affright. 
 Angeio had warned her in tlie most im- 
 pressive manner not to mention his being 
 the person who released her froni Faenza. 
 li was true he had also enforced his cau- 
 tion with tlie alarming threat that the lives 
 of both her mother and herself might pay 
 the forfeit of iier bre^aeh of silence* but 
 the lalter intimation might possibly have 
 been given merely to ensure her observance 
 of the taciturnity whichj from some secret 
 motive^ he wished her to maintain. 
 
 What might be that motivcy Cecilia 
 mentally asked herself^ while^ with shud- 
 dering iiorror^ her fancy now accused An- 
 geio Guicciardini as the author of all the 
 misfortunes which^ from the moment of 
 his having entered the cottage^ had over- 
 ^^ helmed her mother and herself with so 
 much trouble and affliction ; for who could 
 ]}e a more proper agent for the mysterious 
 Count de Weilburgh than the robber 
 Angeio. The recollection of all the opi- 
 iiions formed by the Father Ascollini and 
 the Marchese di Rovenza relative to An- 
 geio and the young Orazio — their repeated 
 assertions that perhaps both were the agents 
 of the Count de Weilburgh^ now rushed 
 on the mind of Cecilia^ and were mingled 
 with the terrific conviction that these con- 
 jectures were just. The promise of pro- 
 tection from Angeio — the tale of Orazio'a
 
 269 
 
 noble birth, and even the visit of th.e pil- 
 grim, now appeiired ]to the harrowed fancy 
 of Cecilia but as so manj evidences that 
 both Guicciardini and the latter were in- 
 deed the agents of that mysterious and 
 dreadful foe^ who had torn her beloved 
 parent from their peaceful and happy 
 home, and driven herself to seek protection 
 and security from the bounty of strangers. 
 The casket of jewels she had been pre- 
 sented \vith by the pilgrim, appeared^ 
 however, to give some contradiction to the 
 aiarmmg fear that now overwhelmed her; 
 but Cecilia was not in a frame of mind to 
 conclude herself in error from the recol- 
 lection of that circumstance. The jewels^ 
 she thought, might be false, and bear, 
 only an accidental resemblance to some 
 once beloDgifig to some friend of her mo- 
 ther's, and might have been presented to 
 her merely to further some secret schemes 
 of tije count. Plunged still deeper and 
 deeper in dread and woe by considering 
 Orazio as Due of the artful agents of her 
 own and beloved mother's inveterate foe, 
 she soon believed that the letter she had 
 received from the signora, if not a mere 
 forgery, was at least a false account of 
 her situation^ that she had possibly been 
 compelled to write, in order to give the 
 count an opportunity of ensnaring herself 
 into his power, and of facilitating her re- 
 moval from the protection of the Rovenza 
 family, by inducing her to place a mis- 
 taken confidence in those apparently em-
 
 270 
 
 plojed to secure some correspondence be- 
 tween her mother and herself. 
 
 Nearly distracted by the indulgence of a 
 train of reflections of such fearful import^ 
 she bewailed, with feelings of the deepest 
 mental anguish, the unaccountable and 
 fatal credulity which she imagined had so 
 long blinded her to the truth ; and in the 
 fust effervescence of her wild, enanguished 
 regrets, she resolved to acquaint the Mar- 
 chese di Rovenza with every particular 
 that she had hitherto withheld from his 
 knowledge; yet the fear of encountering 
 the indignant surprise which he might ex- 
 press, oa a discovery of her former strange 
 reserve, soon made her abandon her inten- 
 tion, and determine first to consult the 
 jnarchesa. Consoled by the hope of being 
 enabled to repair, in some degree, the er- 
 ror she believed she had committed, Cecilia 
 fouud her spirits more composed, and as the 
 sun was already risen, she quitted her 
 couch, and retired into the oratory, where 
 she continued for some time to implore the 
 guidance and protection of the Most High. 
 
 When she had concluded her devotions, 
 she proceeded to her dressing-room, in 
 order to take out of a cabinet the casket 
 of jewels given h^r by the supposed pil- 
 grim. The casket, however, was not to be 
 found in the cabinet; and after an unsuc- 
 cessful, search for it among her clothes, she 
 was compelled to wait till Lodelli made 
 her appearance. A short time elapsed ere 
 the young woman entered ; and when she
 
 271 
 
 did, her look and manner were so wild, 
 that Cecilia started on beholding her, and, 
 in the utmost alarm, enquired what had 
 occurred to throw her into such a state of 
 perturbation. 
 
 ''Enough, signora — enough, I'm sure!'* 
 was Lodelli's almost breathless reply.— 
 '' Whj, what an escape jou had last night 
 from that terrible robber Angelo Guicci- 
 ardini I I didn't suppose that you would 
 have let me go to bed without telling me 
 any thing about the matter ! 
 
 With trembling eagerness, Cecilia de- 
 manded how Lodelii had learned that she 
 had seen Angelo. 
 
 '' Why, signora,'* she replied, '^ I acci- 
 dentally overheard Signor Faenza telling 
 hi« excellenza the Marchese di Rovenza 
 all about it. They were both in the little 
 room that has a small grating in the door 
 which opens into one of the arched stone 
 passages that leads to the servant's hall. 
 That grating was made on purpose for 
 listening, I do verily believe. As I was 
 passing just now, I thought I heard some- 
 body speaking your name, signora : and 
 as it was the name of my own lady, I 
 thought, to be sure, there would be no 
 harm in listening a bit; for I wondered 
 who could be talking of you, signora. So 
 I stood on my tip-toes, and peeped in 
 through the grating ; and who should I 
 see in the little empty room but the mar- 
 chese and the Signor Faenza, who was 
 looking so pale and so spiteful, and spoke 
 so fast all the time; and '*
 
 272 
 
 '' But what did he say ?*' almost uncon- 
 sciously articulated Cecilia. 
 
 '' Whjj he saidj signora — no^ the mar- 
 chese said^ ' Are you certain, signor, that 
 the stranger called himself Angelo Guic- 
 ciardini?' And then the signer swore, 
 with a great oath, that he was sure, and 
 told him that he knew that the person who 
 had come to you in the temple last night 
 was the famous rohber Angelo ; but that 
 he would not say so before all the company ; 
 and then, signora, this wicked man advised 
 the marchcsa by all means to turn you out 
 of the villa; for he was sure you could 
 not be a proper person, when you was ac- 
 quainted with Angelo Guicciardini." 
 
 '' And what reply did the marchese give 
 to this advice, Lodelli ?'* faintly enquired 
 Cecilia. 
 
 " He said he would consider of it, my 
 dear young lady ; and then he thanked 
 that spiteful sign or, and begged him not 
 to say any thing about the aftair to any 
 one else ; and so he promised that he would 
 not, and they then came towards the door 
 to come out ; and I ran away as fast as I 
 could, to tell you. But, pray, signora, 
 what did that terrible Angelo say when — " 
 
 Lodelli was here interrupted by one of 
 the female domestics of the villa entering 
 to announce to Cecilia that the marchese 
 requested to see her immediately. 
 
 END OF VOL. I
 
 UNIVERSITY OP ILLINOIS-URBAN A 
 
 lillllllilllllli 
 
 3 0112 045844674 
 
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