The Monk - Matthew Gregory Lewis [79]
I now bent my course towards Spain with all diligence. Lucas with my baggage had joined me during my abode at Lindenberg. I arrived in my native country without any accident, and immediately proceeded to my father’s castle in Andalusia. The remains of Beatrice were deposited in the family vault, all due ceremonies performed, and the number of masses said which she had required. Nothing now hindered me from employing all my endeavours to discover the retreat of Agnes. The baroness had assured me, that her niece had already taken the veil: this intelligence I suspected to have been forged by jealousy, and hoped to find my mistress still at liberty to accept my hand. I enquired after her family; I found that before her daughter could reach Madrid, Donna Inesilla was no more: you, my dear Lorenzo, were said to be abroad, but where I could not discover: your father was in a distant province, on a visit to the duke de Medina; and as to Agnes, no one could or would inform me what was become of her. Theodore, according to promise, had returned to Strasbourg, where he found his grandfather dead, and Marguerite in possession of his fortune. All her persuasions to remain with her were fruitless: he quitted her a second time, and followed me to Madrid. He exerted himself to the utmost in forwarding my search: but our united endeavours were unattended by success. The retreat which concealed Agnes remained an impenetrable mystery, and I began to abandon all hopes of recovering her.
About eight months ago I was returning to my hotel in a melancholy humour, having passed the evening at the play-house. The night was dark, and I was unaccompanied. Plunged in reflections which were far from being agreeable, I perceived not that three men had followed me from the theatre, till, on turning into an unfrequented street, they all attacked me at the same time with the utmost fury. I sprang back a few paces, drew my sword, and threw my cloak over my left arm. The obscurity of the night was in my favour. For the most part the blows of the assassins, being aimed at random, failed to touch me. I at length was fortunate enough to lay one of my adversaries at my feet: but before this I had already received so many wounds, and was so warmly pressed, that my destruction would have been inevitable, had not the clashing of swords called a cavalier to my assistance. He ran towards me with his sword drawn: several domestics followed him with torches. His arrival made the combat equal: yet would not the bravoes abandon their design, till their servants were on the point of joining us. They then fled away, and we lost them in the obscurity.
The stranger now addressed himself to me with politeness, and enquired whether I was wounded. Faint with the loss of blood, I could scarcely thank him for his seasonable aid, and entreat him to let some of his servants convey me to the hotel de las Cisternas. I no sooner mentioned the name than he professed himself an acquaintance of my father’s, and declared that he would not permit my being transported to such a distance, before my wounds had been examined. He added, that his house was hard by, and begged me to accompany him thither. His manner was so earnest, that I could not reject his offer; and, leaning upon his arm, a few minutes brought me to the porch of a magnificent hotel.
On entering the house, an old grey-headed domestic came to welcome my conductor: he enquired when the duke, his master, meant to quit the country, and was answered, that he would remain there yet some months. My deliverer then desired the family surgeon to be summoned without delay: his orders were obeyed. I was seated upon a sopha in a noble apartment; and my wounds being examined, they were declared to be very slight. The surgeon, however, advised me not to expose myself to the night air; and the stranger pressed me so earnestly to take a bed