About eight months ago I was returning to my hotel in a melancholy humour, having passed the evening at the playhouse. The night was dark, and I was unaccompanied. Plunged in reflections which were far from being agreeable, I perceived not that three men had followed me from the theatre; till, on turning into an unfrequented street, they all attacked me at the same time with the utmost fury. I sprang back a few paces, drew my sword, and threw my cloak over my left arm. The obscurity of the night was in my favour. For the most part the blows of the assassins, being aimed at random, failed to touch me. I at length was fortunate enough to lay one of my adversaries at my feet; but before this I had already received so many wounds, and was so warmly pressed, that my destruction would have been inevitable, had not the clashing of swords called a cavalier to my assistance. He ran towards me with his sword drawn: several domestics followed him with torches. His arrival made the combat equal: yet would not the bravoes abandon their design till the servants were on the point of joining us. They then fled away, and we lost them in the obscurity.
The stranger now addressed himself to me with politeness, and enquired whether I was wounded. Faint with the loss of blood, I could scarcely thank him for his seasonable aid, and entreat him to let some of his servants convey me to the Hotel de las Cisternas. I no sooner mentioned the name than he professed himself an acquaintance of my father’s, and declared that he would not permit my being transported to such a distance before my wounds had been examined. He added that his house was hard by, and begged me to accompany him thither. His manner was so earnest, that I could not reject his offer, and leaning upon his arm, a few minutes brought me to the porch of a magnificent hotel.
On entering the house, an old grey-headed domestic came to welcome my conductor: he enquired when the duke, his master, meant to quit the country, and was answered that he would remain there yet some months. My deliverer then desired the family surgeon to be summoned without delay. His orders were obeyed. I was seated upon a sofa in a noble apartment; and my wounds being examined, they were declared to be very slight. The surgeon, however, advised me not to expose myself to the night air; and the stranger pressed me so earnestly to take a bed in his house, that I consented to remain where I was for the present.
Being now left alone with my deliverer, I took the opportunity of thanking him in more express terms, than I had done hitherto: but he begged me to be silent upon the subject.
“I esteem myself happy,” said he, “in having had it in my power to render you this little service; and I shall think myself eternally obliged to my daughter for detaining me so late at the convent of St. Clare. The high esteem in which I have ever held the Marquis de las Cisternas, though accident has not permitted our being so intimate as I could wish, makes me rejoice in the opportunity of making his son’s acquaintance. I am certain that my brother in whose house you now are, will lament his not being at Madrid to receive you himself: but in the duke’s absence I am master of the family, and may assure you in his name, that everything in the Hotel de Medina is perfectly at your disposal.”
Conceive my surprise, Lorenzo, at discovering in the person of my preserver Don Gaston de Medina: it was only to be equalled by my secret satisfaction at the assurance that Agnes inhabited the convent of St. Clare. This latter sensation was not a little weakened, when in answer to my seemingly indifferent questions he told me that his daughter had really taken the veil. I suffered not my grief at this circumstance to take root in my mind: I flattered myself with the idea that my uncle’s credit at the court of Rome would remove this obstacle, and that without difficulty I should obtain for my mistress a dispensation from her vows. Buoyed up with this hope I calmed the uneasiness of my bosom; and I redoubled my endeavours to appear grateful for the attention and pleased with the society of Don Gaston.
A domestic now entered the room, and informed me that the bravo whom I had wounded discovered some signs of life. I desired that he
