On this occasion Carwin had received Pleyel's greeting with a
certain distance and solemnity to which the latter had not been
accustomed. He had waived noticing the inquiries of Pleyel
respecting his desertion of Spain, in which he had formerly
declared that it was his purpose to spend his life. He had
assiduously diverted the attention of the latter to indifferent
topics, but was still, on every theme, as eloquent and judicious as
formerly. Why he had assumed the garb of a rustic Pleyel was
unable to conjecture. Perhaps it might be poverty; perhaps he was
swayed by motives which it was his interest to conceal, but which
were connected with consequences of the utmost moment.
Such was the sum of my friend's information. I was not sorry to be
left alone during the greater part of this day. Every employment
was irksome which did not leave me at liberty to meditate. I had
now a new subject on which to exercise my thoughts. Before evening
I should be ushered into his presence, and listen to those tones
whose magical and thrilling power I had already experienced. But
with what new images would he then be accompanied?
Carwin was an adherent to the Romish faith, yet was an Englishman
by birth, and, perhaps, a Protestant by education.
Pages:
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407