s address. He took it up, and it brought to his recollection his
promise respecting a confessor. He passed a few minutes in doubt: but Antonia's
empire over him was already too much decided to permit his making a long
resistance to the idea which struck him. He resolved to be the confessor
himself. He could leave the abbey unobserved without difficulty: by wrapping up
his head in his cowl he hoped to pass through the streets without being
recognised: by taking these precautions, and by recommending secresy to Elvira's
family, he doubted not to keep Madrid in ignorance that he had broken his vow
never to see the outside of the abbey-walls. Matilda was the only person whose
vigilance he dreaded: but by informing her at the refectory, that during the
whole of that day business would confine him to his cell, he thought himself
secure from her wakeful jealousy. Accordingly, at the hours when the Spaniards
are generally taking their siesta, he ventured to quit the abbey by a private
door, the key of which was in his possession. The cowl of his habit was thrown
over his face: from the heat of the weather the streets were almost totally
deserted: the monk met with few people, found the strada di San Iago, and
arrived without accident at Donna Elvira's door. He rang, was admitted, and
immediately ushered into an upper apartment.
    It was here that he ran the greatest risque of a discovery. Had Leonella
been at home, she would have recognized him directly. Her communicative
disposition would never have permitted her to rest, till all Madrid was informed
that Ambrosio had ventured out of the abbey, and visited her sister. Fortune
here stood the monk's friend. On Leonella's return home, she found a letter
instructing her, that a cousin was just dead, who had left what little he
possessed between herself and Elvira. To secure this bequest she was obliged to
set out for Cordova without losing a moment. Amidst all her foibles, her heart
was truly warm and affectionate, and she was unwilling to quit her sister in so
dangerous a state. But Elvira insisted upon her taking the journey, conscious
that in her daughter's forlorn situation, no increase of fortune, however
trifling, ought to be neglected. Accordingly Leonella left Madrid, sincerely
grieved at her sister's illness, and giving some few sighs to the memory of the
amiable but inconstant Don Christoval. She was fully persuaded, that at first
she had made a terrible breach in his heart; but hearing nothing more of him,
she supposed
