ceived the letter Matilda had written from Tunis—she gave it him to read.
Matilda had briefly given an account of her voyage and arrival at Tunis, the civilities of the captain, and dangerous state of Mr. Weimar. She mentioned, that she had reason to suppose she was descended from a noble family, in Naples; that a short time would relieve her doubts; and, at any rate, she would write again, if not join them, in a very little while.
Lovers, who are ever industrious to torment themselves, would perhaps, like the Count, have conjured up a thousand fears to distract their minds. "Is this all your good news? (cried he) alas! I see little to depend upon here; "she has hopes" she belongs to some noble family,—a scheme of that villain Weimar's, to keep her easy 'till he recovers; besides, what dependence can be placed on a corsair? Ah! if these are all your hopes of safety, they are small indeed." "Upon my