d made diligent inquiries to recover
his daughter, but in vain. Martha, the old duenna, from whom he might
have obtained a knowledge of the truth, had successfully baffled his
pursuit, the sanctimonious hag having embarked at Barcelona, for Italy.
The vessel was wrecked, and it was supposed she perished, as no
information of her could be afterwards obtained. Don Lope Gomez Arias
had all the time kept up a correspondence with the deluded and ill-fated
father, who, far from harbouring the least suspicion against the
betrayer of his daughter, considered him as one in whose advice and
services he could implicitly confide. Thus in proportion as the
intelligence from Gomez Arias grew more cold and less frequent, the
hopes of the old cavalier decreased, until he was at last reduced to a
state bordering upon distraction. He lay prostrate on the couch of
sickness; it was presaged he was doomed never more to rise. Slowly death
was stealing over him, and all his friends and dependants bitterly
deplored the causes which contributed to render so miserable the last
days of the good old cavalier. Indeed, it appeared as if the angel of
death hovered round his fated mansion, and awed all its inmates into a
melancholy tranquillity. At this time the sudden and unexpected
appearance of Theodora worked a powerful revolution in the feelings of
the family, whilst the frame of Don Manuel, instead of sinking under the
weight of the impression which it produced, seemed to revive. His latent
feelings were roused from their gloomy torpor, the slumbering energies
were called into action by the powerful excitement of new ideas, and the
mind rendered buoyant in proportion as new projects called for the
exertion of its faculties. The unparalleled effrontery and cruelty of
Gomez Arias formed the source from which the drooping frame of
Monteblanco gathered life. His wrongs, instead of accelerating the
progress of death, seemed instantly to check its strides, while the
desire of revenge so powerfully operated on his mind, that it warmed the
torpid energies of decaying mortality.

Three days had scarcely elapsed since the arrival of Theodora, when Don
Manuel already considered himself equal to the exertion of a journey to
Granada. The distance was short, and his feelings would not allow him a
longer delay; for he conceived every dilatory suggestion to be as
detrimental to the success of his design. The renegade, instead of
checking Monteblanco's views, co