The torches shed a partial light; and while she
anxiously looked round for the person of the duke, the whole party
entered the mansion. She listened to a confused uproar of voices,
which sounded from the room beneath, and soon after it sunk into a low
murmur, as if some matter of importance was in agitation. For some
moments she sat in lingering terror, when she heard footsteps
advancing towards the chamber, and a sudden gleam of torchlight
flashed upon the walls. 'Wretched girl! I have at least secured you!'
said a cavalier, who now entered the room. He stopped as he perceived
Julia; and turning to the men who stood without, 'Are these,' said he,
'the fugitives you have taken?'--'Yes, my lord.'--'Then you have
deceived yourselves, and misled me; this is not my daughter.' These
words struck the sudden light of truth and joy upon the heart of
Julia, whom terror had before rendered almost lifeless; and who had
not perceived that the person entering was a stranger. Madame now
stepped forward, and an explanation ensued, when it appeared that the
stranger was the Marquis Murani, the father of the fair fugitive whom
the duke had before mistaken for Julia.
The appearance and the evident flight of Julia had deceived the
banditti employed by this nobleman, into a belief that she was the
object of their search, and had occasioned her this unnecessary
distress. But the joy she now felt, on finding herself thus
unexpectedly at liberty, surpassed, if possible, her preceding
terrors. The marquis made madame and Julia all the reparation in his
power, by offering immediately to reconduct them to the main road, and
to guard them to some place of safety for the night. This offer was
eagerly and thankfully accepted; and though faint from distress,
fatigue, and want of sustenance, they joyfully remounted their horses,
and by torchlight quitted the mansion. After some hours travelling
they arrived at a small town, where they procured the accommodation so
necessary to their support and repose. Here their guides quitted them
to continue their search.
They arose with the dawn, and continued their journey, continually
terrified with the apprehension of encountering the duke's people. At
noon they arrived at Azulia, from whence the monastery, or abbey of St
Augustin, was distant only a few miles. Madame wrote to the Padre
Abate, to whom she was somewhat related, and soon after received an
answer very favourable to her wishes. The same evening they repaired
to the abbey; where Julia, once more relieved from the fear of
pursuit, offered up a prayer of gratitude to heaven, and endeavoured
to calm her sorrows by devotion. She was received by the abbot with a
sort of paternal affection, and by the nuns with officious kindness.
Comforted by these circumstances, and by the tranquil appearance of
every thing around her, she retired to rest, and passed the night in
peaceful slumbers.