A Sicilian Romance

Hippolitus, who had languished under a long and dangerous illness

occasioned by his wounds, but heightened and prolonged by the distress

of his mind, was detained in a small town in the coast of Calabria,

and was yet ignorant of the death of Cornelia. He scarcely doubted

that Julia was now devoted to the duke, and this thought was at times

poison to his heart. After his arrival in Calabria, immediately on the

recovery of his senses, he dispatched a servant back to the castle of

Mazzini, to gain secret intelligence of what had passed after his

departure.

The eagerness with which we endeavour to escape from

misery, taught him to encourage a remote and romantic hope that Julia

yet lived for him. Yet even this hope at length languished into

despair, as the time elapsed which should have brought his servant

from Sicily. Days and weeks passed away in the utmost anxiety to

Hippolitus, for still his emissary did not appear; and at last,

concluding that he had been either seized by robbers, or discovered

and detained by the marquis, the Count sent off a second emissary to

the castle of Mazzini. By him he learned the news of Julia's flight,

and his heart dilated with joy; but it was suddenly checked when he

heard the marquis had discovered her retreat in the abbey of St

Augustin. The wounds which still detained him in confinement, now

became intolerable. Julia might yet be lost to him for ever. But even

his present state of fear and uncertainty was bliss compared with the

anguish of despair, which his mind had long endured.

As soon as he was sufficiently recovered, he quitted Italy for Sicily,

in the design of visiting the monastery of St Augustin, where it was

possible Julia might yet remain. That he might pass with the secrecy

necessary to his plan, and escape the attacks of the marquis, he left

his servants in Calabria, and embarked alone.

It was morning when he landed at a small port of Sicily, and proceeded

towards the abbey of St Augustin. As he travelled, his imagination

revolved the scenes of his early love, the distress of Julia, and the

sufferings of Ferdinand, and his heart melted at the retrospect. He

considered the probabilities of Julia having found protection from her

father in the pity of the Padre Abate; and even ventured to indulge

himself in a flattering, fond anticipation of the moment when Julia

should again be restored to his sight.

He arrived at the monastery, and his grief may easily be imagined,

when he was informed of the death of his beloved sister, and of the

flight of Julia. He quitted St Augustin's immediately, without even

knowing that Madame de Menon was there, and set out for a town at some

leagues distance, where he designed to pass the night.