e said that his frenzied passion awoke to the same
ardour daily and lasted through five years. Only in 1829 did the Duc de
Navarreins hear by chance that his daughter had travelled to Spain as
Lady Julia Hopwood's maid, that she had left her service at Cadiz, and
that Lady Julia never discovered that Mlle Caroline was the illustrious
duchess whose sudden disappearance filled the minds of the highest
society of Paris.

The feelings of the two lovers when they met again on either side of the
grating in the Carmelite convent should now be comprehended to the full,
and the violence of the passion awakened in either soul will doubtless
explain the catastrophe of the story.

In 1823 the Duc de Langeais was dead, and his wife was free. Antoinette
de Navarreins was living, consumed by love, on a ledge of rock in
the Mediterranean; but it was in the Pope's power to dissolve Sister
Theresa's vows. The happiness bought by so much love might yet bloom
for the two lovers. These thoughts sent Montriveau flying from Cadiz to
Marseilles, and from Marseilles to Paris.

A few months after his return to France, a merchant brig, fitted out and
munitioned for active service, set sail from the port of Marseilles for
Spain. The vessel had been chartered by several distinguished men, most
of them Frenchmen, who, smitten with a romantic passion for the East,
wished to make a journey to those lands. Montriveau's familiar knowledge
of Eastern customs made him an invaluable travelling companion, and at
the entreaty of the rest he had joined the expedition; the Minister
of War appointed him lieutenant-general, and put him on the Artillery
Commission to facilitate his departure.

Twenty-fours hours later the brig lay to off the north-west shore of an
island within sight of the Spanish coast. She had been specially chosen
for her shallow keel and light mastage, so that she might lie at anchor
in safety half a league away from the reefs that secure the island from
approach in this direction. If fishing vessels or the people on the
island caught sight of the brig, they were scarcely likely to feel
suspicious of her at once; and besides, it was easy to give a reason for
her presence without delay. Montriveau hoisted the flag of the United
States before they came in sight of the island, and the crew of the
vessel were all American sailors, who spoke nothing but English. One
of M. de Montriveau's companions took the men ashore in the ship's
longbo