ant my request at that moment was
impossible; But She engaged to be in the same spot at eleven that
night, and to converse with me for the last time. Having obtained this
promise I released her hand, and She fled back with rapidity towards
the Convent.

I communicated my success to my Ally, the old Gardener: He pointed out
an hiding place where I might shelter myself till night without fear of
a discovery. Thither I betook myself at the hour when I ought to have
retired with my supposed Master, and waited impatiently for the
appointed time. The chillness of the night was in my favour, since it
kept the other Nuns confined to their Cells. Agnes alone was
insensible of the inclemency of the Air, and before eleven joined me at
the spot which had witnessed our former interview. Secure from
interruption, I related to her the true cause of my disappearing on the
fatal fifth of May. She was evidently much affected by my narrative:
When it was concluded, She confessed the injustice of her suspicions,
and blamed herself for having taken the veil through despair at my
ingratitude.

'But now it is too late to repine!' She added; 'The die is thrown: I
have pronounced my vows, and dedicated myself to the service of heaven.
I am sensible, how ill I am calculated for a Convent. My disgust at a
monastic life increases daily: Ennui and discontent are my constant
Companions; and I will not conceal from you that the passion which I
formerly felt for one so near being my Husband is not yet extinguished
in my bosom. But we must part! Insuperable Barriers divide us from
each other, and on this side the Grave we must never meet again!'

I now exerted myself to prove that our union was not so impossible as
She seemed to think it. I vaunted to her the Cardinal-Duke of Lerma's
influence at the Court of Rome: I assured her that I should easily
obtain a dispensation from her vows; and I doubted not but Don Gaston
would coincide with my views, when informed of my real name and long
attachment. Agnes replied that since I encouraged such an hope, I
could know but little of her Father. Liberal and kind in every other
respect, Superstition formed the only stain upon his character. Upon
this head He was inflexible; He sacrificed his dearest interests to his
scruples, and would consider it an insult to suppose him capable of
authorising his daughter to break her vows to heaven.

'But suppose,' said I interrupting her; 'Suppose that H