head, and ministered to his relief. With the diligent affection of a son, Di Rinal dini watched over him; nor, save in the hour of transient slumber, one moment did he steal for Adelheida; then, secure in the humane attentions of Father Giacome, he would fly to Montranzo, or meet his beloved, attended by Vannina, in the forest. The efficacy of physic, the strength of constitution, or rather, the patience of resignation and unmurmuring endurance, banished the fell powers of sickness, and restored Father Luitfrido to health and to exertion. Huberto returned to the Castle, and hope's warm glow of happiness revived. But, alas! the Conte Alverani still viewed him with coldness and dislike: his conferences with his confessor became longer and more frequent: sometimes he would start, as though in mental derangement, strike his hand against his forehead, or utter an incoherent expression of despair'; sometimes sometimes he would shrink from the pitysearching eye of Di Rinaldini, as though a serpent had crossed his path, and hurry to the obscurity of his chamber. The enfeebled debility of the canon, now gradually yielding to convalescence, was the sole existing plea for procrastination; and Adelheida, who, with painful exertion, had endured the arduous task of concealment, and whose pregnancy still eluded the glance of suspicion, sighed at the delay. One evening, an hour previ ous to her joining the supper-table, feeling her drooping spirits almost subdued, she had recourse to a restorative, to which she had before applied. The vial was empty. Huberto heard the complaint, and, with the tenderest anxiety, flew to the dispensary to get it replenished. "What seek you, my son?" enquired a voice. Di Rinaldini raised his lamp, and beheld the the Conte and Father Brazilio. Starting, and veiling his confusion, he replied,. « A simple, father, of the mildest na ture." "Are you then ill?" demanded the monk. "Not ill, but needing a restorative.” “And you must needs seek it yourself," eyeing him attentively. "I thought you a philosopher, but I knew not you were a physician." "A physician, father!" "Yes, my son," smiling with unusual condescension: "remember the materia medica is my province; give me your vial, and I will mingle the ingredients." "Ingredients are not necessary, father, for spirits depressed; a little sal volatile is all that is required.' "Spirits depressed !” repeated the Conte; "why, Huberto, how long have you laboured under that malady?” " The spirits, as the health, fluctuate, my Lord," said Di Rinaldini: "sal vola tile tile is a remedy to which I have before applied." A low knock at the door checked any further enquiry; it was Benevento, the page, come to acquaint Huberto that a, messenger from the Camaldoli convent awaited him in the hall. "Go, my son," said the monk; "and if your spirits still need a restorative, seek it here." Di Rinaldini hastened to the hall: the messenger was the bearer of a friendly note from the canon, in which he declared his intention of visiting Montranzo the following morning, and revealing the marriage to the Conte. Gratified with the intelligence, and hoping all from the exertions and interference of Father Luitfrido, Di Rinaldini returned to the dispensary, received from the hand of the Conte Alverani the vial he had left, and flew to the apartment |