brought me hither. Now leave me, if thou canst!"

"Never, never!" cried Godolphin, clasping her to his heart. "It is fated,
and I resist no more. Love, tend, cherish thee, I will to my last hour.
I will be all to thee that human ties can afford--father, brother,
lover--all but----" He paused; "all but husband," whispered his
conscience, but he silenced its voice.

"I may go with thee!" said Lucilla, in wild ecstasy: that was _her_ only
thought.

As, when the notion of escape occurs to the insane, their insanity appears
to cease; courage, prudence, caution, invention (faculties which they knew
not in sounder health), flash upon and support them as by an inspiration;
so, a new genius had seemed breathed into Lucilla by the idea of rejoining
Godolphin. She imagined--not without justice--that, could she throw in
the way of her return home an obstacle of that worldly nature which he
seemed to dread she should encounter, his chief reason for resisting her
attachment would be removed. Encouraged by this thought, and more than
ever transported by her love since he had expressed a congenial
sentiment: excited into emulation by the generous tone of his letter, and
softened into yet deeper weakness by its tenderness;--she had resolved
upon the bold step she adopted. A vetturino lived near the gate of St.
Sebastian: she had sought him; and at sight of the money which Godolphin
had sent her, the vetturino willingly agreed to transport her to whatever
point on the road to Naples she might desire--nay, even to keep pace with
the more rapid method of travelling which Godolphin pursued. Early on the
morning of his departure, she had sought her station within sight of
Godolphin's palazzo; and ten minutes after his departure the vetturino
bore her, delighted but trembling, on the same road.