A Sicilian Romance

'About a quarter of a league from the walls we stopped, and I assumed

the habit in which you now see me. My own dress was fastened to some

heavy stones, and Caterina threw it into the stream, near the almond

grove, whose murmurings you have so often admired. The fatigue and

hardship I endured in this journey, performed almost wholly on foot,

at any other time would have overcome me; but my mind was so occupied

by the danger I was avoiding that these lesser evils were disregarded.

We arrived in safety at the cottage, which stood at a little distance

from the village of Ferrini, and were received by Caterina's parents

with some surprise and more kindness. I soon perceived it would be

useless, and even dangerous, to attempt to preserve the character I

personated. In the eyes of Caterina's mother I read a degree of

surprise and admiration which declared she believed me to be of

superior rank; I, therefore, thought it more prudent to win her

fidelity by entrusting her with my secret than, by endeavouring to

conceal it, leave it to be discovered by her curiosity or discernment.

Accordingly, I made known my quality and my distress, and received

strong assurances of assistance and attachment. For further security,

I removed to this sequestered spot. The cottage we are now in belongs

to a sister of Caterina, upon whose faithfulness I have been hitherto

fully justified in relying. But I am not even here secure from

apprehension, since for several days past horsemen of a suspicious

appearance have been observed near Marcy, which is only half a league

from hence.' Here Julia closed her narration, to which madame had listened with a

mixture of surprise and pity, which her eyes sufficiently discovered.

The last circumstance of the narrative seriously alarmed her. She

acquainted Julia with the pursuit which the duke had undertaken; and

she did not hesitate to believe it a party of his people whom Julia

had described. Madame, therefore, earnestly advised her to quit her

present situation, and to accompany her in disguise to the monastery

of St Augustin, where she would find a secure retreat; because, even

if her place of refuge should be discovered, the superior authority of

the church would protect her. Julia accepted the proposal with much

joy. As it was necessary that madame should sleep at the village where

she had left her servants and horses, it was agreed that at break of

day she should return to the cottage, where Julia would await her.

Madame took all affectionate leave of Julia, whose heart, in spite of

reason, sunk when she saw her depart, though but for the necessary

interval of repose. At the dawn of day madame arose.