urnal interviews,
and great was the rage of Don Alphonso. The lovers were seized, brought
back in tribulation to the castle, and imprisoned, one in her chamber,
the other in a dungeon. But love finds many devices: whether it was a
golden key that opened her door, or whether it was her eloquent tongue
and pleading looks, I know not, but certain it is that in the dead of
night, when all but two in the castle were sunk in profound slumber, a
fair lady softly stepped into her father's apartment, drew a large bunch
of keys from under his pillow, and proceeding down to the dungeons by
the secret passage, set Don Fernando at liberty! Soon did they breathe
the sweet, fresh air of freedom: soon did they find their way to the
territory of the Count de Velasquez, and to the chapel where an obedient
priest spoke over their kneeling forms those words which can never be
unsaid, by which Holy Mother Church sanctions the union of loving
hearts.

And the father? He stormed considerably--we fathers generally do in such
cases. But, upon mature consideration, he concluded that amiability was,
under the circumstances, the best policy: and being in reality a
kind-hearted man, he forgave the young couple, and invited them to
dinner! And thus ended the ancient feud between the houses of Alcantra
and Velasquez!

After the termination of the tale, Senor Baptista retired, and the Conde
and his daughters remained chatting by the fire for some time; at length
the wasting embers, and the increasing chilliness of the air, warned
them that it was time to seek repose. With a reverence unhappily too
much wanting in our land of youthful independence, Clara and Magdalena
knelt before their father, and as he imprinted the warm kiss upon their
brows, and uttered the heart-felt "God bless you, my daughters!" their
feelings, both of piety and of filial love, feelings, how closely
united! were certainly freshened.

Taking their little night-lamps, they proceeded up the staircase, but
soon parted, as their rooms were situated in different galleries. From
the dim light, and the many branching corridors, Magdalena mistook her
way, and was just convinced of her mistake, when a sudden puff of wind
put out her lamp. Feeble glimmering as it gave, it yet would have
enabled her to find her way, and she was just on the point of calling
out for aid, when she perceived a light approach from an adjacent
gallery. She thought it must be a servant, but upon stepping wher