The Monk by Matthew Lewis Read Free Book Online

brother.
    The pious procession had now entered the abbey; the door was already closed upon it. The unknown immediately quitted his concealment, and hastened to leave the church: ere he could effect his intention, he descried Medina stationed in his passage. The stranger hastily retreated, and drew his hat over his eyes.
    “Attempt not to fly me!” exclaimed Lorenzo; “I will know who you are, and what were the contents of that letter.”
    “Of that letter?” repeated the unknown. “And by what title do you ask the question?”
    “By a title of which I am now ashamed; but it becomes not you to question me. Either reply circumstantially to my demands, or answer me with your sword.”
    “The latter method will be the shortest,” rejoined the other, drawing his rapier; “come on, Segnor Bravo! I am ready.”
    Burning with rage, Lorenzo hastened to the attack: the antagonists had already exchanged several passes, before Christoval, who at that moment had more sense than either of them, could throw himself between their weapons.
    “Hold! hold! Medina!” he exclaimed; “remember the consequences of shedding blood on consecrated ground!”
    The stranger immediately dropped his sword.
    “Medina?” he cried. “Great God, is it possible! Lorenzo, have you quite forgotten Raymond de las Cisternas?”
    Lorenzo’s astonishment increased with every succeeding moment. Raymond advanced towards him; but with a look of suspicion he drew back his hand, which the other was preparing to take.
    “You here, Marquis? What is the meaning of all this? You engaged in a clandestine correspondence with my sister, whose affections———”
    “Have ever been, and still are mine. But this is no fit place for an explanation. Accompany me to my hotel, and you shall know every thing. Who is that with you?”
    “One whom I believe you to have seen before,” replied Don Christoval, “though probably not at church.”
    “The condé d’Ossorio?”
    “Exactly so, marquis.”
    “I have no objection to entrusting you with my secret, for I am sure that I may depend upon your silence.”
    “Then your opinion of me is better than my own, and therefore I must beg leave to decline your confidence. Do you go your own way, and I shall go mine. Marquis, where are you to be found?”
    “As usual, at the hotel de las Cisternas; but remember that I am incognito, and that, if you wish to see me, you must ask for Alphonso d’Alvarada.”
    “Good! good! Farewell, cavaliers!” said Don Christoval, and instantly departed.
    “You, marquis,” said Lorenzo in the accent of surprise; “you, Alphonso d’Alvarada?”
    “Even so, Lorenzo: but unless you have already heard my story from your sister, I have much to relate that will astonish you. Follow me, therefore, to my hotel without delay.”
    At this moment the porter of the Capuchins entered the cathedral to lock up the doors for the night. The two noblemen instantly withdrew, and hastened with all speed to the palace de las Cisternas.
    —
    “Well, Antonia,” said the aunt, as soon as she had quitted the church, “what think you of our gallants? Don Lorenzo really seems a very obliging good sort of young man: he paid you some attention, and nobody knows what may come of it. But as to Don Christoval, I protest to you, he is the very phœnix of politeness; so gallant! so well-bred! so sensible, and so pathetic! Well! if ever man can prevail upon me to break my vow never to marry, it will be that Don Christoval. You see, niece, that every thing turns out exactly as I told you: the very moment that I produced myself in Madrid, I knew that I should be surrounded by admirers. When I took off my veil, did you see, Antonia, what an effect the action had upon the condé? And when I presented him my hand, did you observe the air of passion with which he kissed it? If ever I witnessed real love, I then saw it impressed upon Don Christoval’s countenance!”
    Now Antonia had observed the air with which Don