The Monk - Matthew Gregory Lewis [80]
Being now left alone with my deliverer, I took the opportunity of thanking him in more express terms than I had done hitherto; but he begged me to be silent upon the subject.
“I esteem myself happy,” said he, “in having had it in my power to render you this little service; and I shall think myself eternally obliged to my daughter for detaining me so late at the convent of St. Clare. The high esteem in which I have ever held the marquis de las Cisternas, though accident has not permitted our being so intimate as I could wish, makes me rejoice in the opportunity of making his son’s acquaintance. I am certain that my brother, in whose house you now are, will lament his not being at Madrid to receive you himself: but, in the duke’s absence, I am master of the family, and may assure you, in his name, that every thing in the hotel de Medina is perfectly at your disposal.”
Conceive my surprise, Lorenzo, at discovering, in the person of my preserver, Don Gaston de Medina. It was only to be equalled by my secret satisfaction at the assurance, that Agnes inhabited the convent of St. Clare. This latter sensation was not a little weakened, when, in answer to my seemingly indifferent questions, he told me that his daughter had really taken the veil. I suffered not my grief at this circumstance to take root in my mind: I flattered myself with the idea, that my uncle’s credit at the court of Rome would remove this obstacle, and that, without difficulty, I should obtain for my mistress a dispensation from her vows. Buoyed up with this hope, I calmed the uneasiness of my bosom; and I redoubled my endeavours to appear grateful for the attention, and pleased with the society, of Don Gaston.
A domestic now entered the room, and informed me that the bravo whom I had wounded, discovered some signs of life. I desired that he might be carried to my father’s hotel, and said that, as soon as he recovered his voice, I would examine him respecting his reasons for attempting my life. I was answered that he was already able to speak, though with difficulty. Don Gaston’s curiosity made him press me to interrogate the assassin in his presence; but this curiosity I was by no means inclined to gratify. One reason was, that, doubting from whence the blow came, I was unwilling to place before Don Gaston’s eyes the guilt of a sister. Another was, that I feared to be recognized for Alphonso d’Alvarada, and precautions taken in consequence to keep me from the sight of Agnes. To avow my passion for his daughter, and endeavour to make him enter into my schemes, what I knew of Don Gaston’s character convinced me would be an imprudent step; and considering it to be essential that he should know me for no other than the condé de las Cisternas, I was determined not to let him hear the bravo’s confession. I insinuated to him, that as I suspected a lady to be concerned in the business, whose name might accidentally escape from the assassin, it was necessary for me to examine the man in private. Don Gaston’s delicacy would not permit his urging the point any longer, and, in consequence, the bravo was conveyed to my hotel.
The next morning I took leave of my host, who was to return to the duke on the same day. My wounds had been so trifling, that, except being obliged to wear my arm in a sling for a short time, I felt no inconvenience from the night’s adventure. The surgeon who examined the bravo’s wound declared it to be mortal: he had just time to confess, that he had been instigated to murder me by the revengeful Donna Rodolpha, and expired in a few minutes after.
All my thoughts were now bent upon getting to the speech of my lovely nun. Theodore set himself to work, and, for this time, with better success. He attacked the gardener of St. Clare so forcibly with bribes and promises, that the old man was entirely gained over to my interests; and it was settled that I should be introduced into the convent in the character of his assistant. The plan was put into execution without delay. Disguised