When the marquis read the answer of the Abate, all the baleful
passions of his nature were roused and inflamed to a degree which
bordered upon distraction. In the first impulse of his rage, he would
have forced the gates of the monastery, and defied the utmost malice
of his enemy. But a moment's reflection revived his fear of the
threatened secret, and he saw that he was still in the power of the
Superior.
The Abate procured the necessary dispensation, and preparations were
immediately began for the approaching ceremony. Julia watched the
departure of those moments which led to her fate with the calm
fortitude of despair. She had no means of escaping from the coming
evil, without exposing herself to a worse; she surveyed it therefore
with a steady eye, and no longer shrunk from its approach.
On the morning preceding the day of her consecration, she was informed
that a stranger enquired for her at the grate. Her mind had been so
long accustomed to the vicissitudes of apprehension, that fear was the
emotion which now occurred; she suspected, yet scarcely knew why, that
the marquis was below, and hesitated whether to descend. A little
reflection determined her, and she went to the parlour--where, to her
equal joy and surprise, she beheld--Ferdinand!
During the absence of the marquis from his castle, Ferdinand, who had
been informed of the discovery of Julia, effected his escape from
imprisonment, and had hastened to the monastery in the design of
rescuing her. He had passed the woods in disguise, with much
difficulty eluding the observation of the marquis's people, who were
yet dispersed round the abbey. To the monastery, as he came alone, he
had been admitted without difficulty.
When he learned the conditions of the Abate's protection, and that
the following day was appointed for the consecration of Julia, he was
shocked, and paused in deliberation. A period so short as was this
interval, afforded little opportunity for contrivance, and less for
hesitation. The night of the present day was the only time that
remained for the attempt and execution of a plan of escape, which if
it then failed of success, Julia would not only be condemned for life
to the walls of a monastery, but would be subjected to whatever
punishment the severity of the Abate, exasperated by the detection,
should think fit to inflict. The danger was desperate, but the
occasion was desperate also.
The nobly disinterested conduct of her brother, struck Julia with
gratitude and admiration; but despair of success made her now hesitate
whether she should accept his offer. She considered that his
generosity would most probably involve him in destruction with
herself; and she paused in deep deliberation, when Ferdinand informed
her of a circumstance which, till now, he had purposely concealed, and
which at once dissolved every doubt and every fear. 'Hippolitus,' said
Ferdinand, 'yet lives.'--'Lives!' repeated Julia faintly,--'lives, Oh!
tell me where--how.'--Her breath refused to aid her, and she sunk in
her chair overcome with the strong and various sensations that pressed
upon her heart.