_The Visit at the Convent._
The next day Mr. Stowe and myself set out for the convent in that
gentleman's carriage. Upon our arriving there we were shown into a
spacious parlor, at one end of which was a larger grated window,
opening into a smaller room. In a few moments the Lady Superior
entered. She was a tall, handsome woman, and surprised my Protestant
prejudices by receiving us very cordially, and immediately engaging
with Mr. Stowe in a very lively, animated conversation in Spanish.
Suddenly she turned toward me,
"My good friend, Senor Stowe, says that you wish to see Sister Agatha,
who was your cousin."
"Yes, senora."
"Well, the senor and myself are going to the school-room, and I will
send her to you; but you must not make love to your cousin--she is
very pretty, and you Americans have very sad morals;" and so saying,
the lively superior led the way to the school-room, followed by Mr.
Stowe.
After they had retired I went up to the grate, and waited several
minutes, until at last a door of the inner room opened, and a nun
entered. Her face bore the traces of deep melancholy; but
notwithstanding that, and the unbecoming dress which half concealed
her form, I thought I had never seen a woman so lovely, so completely
beautiful. I stood in mute wonder and admiration.
"Did you wish to see me, senor?" asked the nun, in a low, soft voice.
"I did, madam," I replied. "If you are Clara Garcia, allow me to
introduce myself as your cousin, Frank Byrne."
"_Madre di Dios!_" cried the nun, her face lighting up with a smile of
astonished delight, "can it be possible! How did you come here?"
"In one of my father's ships," I replied. "I am a seaman on board of
her."
"What, the Cabot?" asked Sister Agatha, suddenly, with a color in her
cheeks.
"No, a new ship--the Gentile."
The nun made many inquiries about my father and mother, and her
cousins in Boston; and we chatted away quite merrily for some minutes.
"You seem to take an interest in the world, after all," said I,
striving to lead the conversation so that I might introduce the matter
which was my business.
"Not much, generally," sighed Sister Agatha. "I sometimes think of
past times with regret, but I am for the most part very happy."
This was a stumper. I determined to see if all this composure was
real.
"Can any one hear us?" I whispered.
"No," answered the nun, opening her great eyes.
"Well, then, I've a great deal to tell you. Let me ask you, in the
first place, if you know where your brother Pedro is."
I was frightened at the expression which my cousin's face assumed.
"Yes!" she said, in a hoarse voice, "he is in the _Guarda-Costa_. My
God! Frank! I saw him a year ago in the streets, toiling as a
scavenger."
I saw that there was yet deep feeling under the cold, melancholy
exterior. I had but little time to work, and hastened to proceed.
"Cousin Clara," I resumed, "you are mistaken; your brother has escaped
from confinement, and is now on board my ship, the Gentile."
"Thank God!" cried the nun, clasping her hands, "now am I willing to
die."
"And further," said I, immediately continuing my revelations, "can you
repress your feelings?"
"What more can you have to tell me?" whispered Sister Agatha. "Go on,
I am not so nearly stone as I thought myself; but I can hear without
any dangerous outbreak of emotion whatever you have to say."
"Well," I resumed, "you were mistaken about Mr. Stewart's death--"
I had been too abrupt. The nun turned deadly pale, and clung to the
bars of the grate for support; but the emotion was momentary. "Go on,"
said she, in a hoarse whisper.
"Can you bear it?" I asked, anxiously.
"Yes, no matter what it may be."
"Command yourself, then; Mr. Stewart is not only alive, but well; he
loves you yet most ardently, but without hope; he is now on board of
the Gentile, he and Pedro--not three miles from you."
While thus by piecemeal I doled out my information, I watched the
effect on my auditor. There was no more fainting. Her lips parted, and
displayed her white teeth firmly set against each other, and her
little hands grasped the bars of the grate convulsively.
Quickly and concisely I stated my plan for her escape; but still she
maintained the same attitude; she did not even seem to hear me.
"Clara, do you consent?" I cried, in despair, for I heard the steps of
the Superior and Mr. Stowe.
Suddenly she extended her hand through the grate and grasped mine. "I
do," she said, "if I'm damned for it."
"Right, then; you shall be warned in time. Go now, for your features
are any thing but calm."
The nun vanished as the Superior entered.
"I have been taking advantage of your confidence, senora," said I; "I
have been trying to persuade my cousin that she is discontented and
unhappy, but without success."
"Ah! no fear of that, senor," cried the lady, with a smile, while Mr.
Stowe stood aghast; "girls who have been disappointed in love make
good nuns."
"Then you will dare to trust me to see her again. I promised that I
would call once more before I sail, with your permission."
"_Si, Senor_, whenever you please."
After partaking of some very fine fruit and wine, we took our leave
with many thanks.
"Well, Frank, how you startled me," said Mr. Stowe, as we drove off.
"You told the truth, I suppose; but the truth is not to be told at all
times."
"Oh!" said I, "I only told half the truth--"
"Is it possible that Sister Agatha consents to escape?"
"She has promised to do so," I replied.
Mr. Stowe expressed so much surprise that I found that he had had no
faith in my success--but the good gentleman was now overjoyed.
"Capital, Frank!" said he, "you would make a splendid diplomatist. Now
what do you say to going directly aboard ship and telling your tidings
to the officers and Pedro? We will take a boat at the mole and get
aboard in time for dinner."
"Agreed; how happy we shall make Mr. Stewart and Don Pedro."
Mr. Stowe prophesied correctly. The officers of the Gentile were at
dinner in the cabin when we suddenly burst upon them. I need not say
that all hands were no less surprised than delighted at the
intelligence we had to communicate. I thought my hands would be wrung
off, so severely were they shaken.
After dinner Mr. Stowe and myself returned on shore, and in a family
conclave there also stated the result of our visit to the convent.