
contended, that for a ghost to knock for admittance was a proceeding till then
unwitnessed, and totally incompatible with the immaterial nature of a spirit.
They were still discussing the subject, when the page appeared with Cunegonda,
and cleared up the mystery. On hearing his deposition, it was agreed
unanimously, that the Agnes whom Theodore had seen step into my carriage must
have been the bleeding nun, and that the ghost who had terrified Conrad was no
other than Don Gaston's daughter.
    The first surprise which this discovery occasioned being over, the baroness
resolved to make it of use in persuading her niece to take the veil. Fearing
lest so advantageous an establishment for his daughter should induce Don Gaston
to renounce his resolution, she suppressed my letter, and continued to represent
me as a needy unknown adventurer. A childish vanity had led me to conceal my
real name even from my mistress; I wished to be loved for myself, not for being
the son and heir of the marquis de las Cisternas. The consequence was, that my
rank was known to no one in the castle except the baroness, and she took good
care to confine the knowledge to her own breast. Don Gaston having approved his
sister's design, Agnes was summoned to appear before them. She was taxed with
having meditated an elopement, obliged to make a full confession, and was amazed
at the gentleness with which it was received: but what was her affliction, when
informed that the failure of her project must be attributed to me! Cunegonda,
tutored by the baroness, told her, that when I released her I had desired her to
inform her lady that our connexion was at an end, that the whole affair was
occasioned by a false report, and that it by no means suited my circumstances to
marry a woman without fortune or expectations.
    To this account my sudden disappearing gave but too great an air of
probability. Theodore, who could have contradicted the story, by Donna
Rodolpha's order was kept out of her sight. What proved a still greater
confirmation of my being an impostor, was the arrival of a letter from yourself,
declaring that you had no sort of acquaintance with Alphonso d'Alvarada. These
seeming proofs of my perfidy, aided by the artful insinuations of her aunt, by
Cunegonda's flattery, and her father's threats and anger, entirely conquered
your sister's repugnance to a convent. Incensed at my behaviour, and disgusted
with the world in general, she consented to receive the veil. She passed another
month at the castle of Lindenberg, during which my non
