One day, however, when I had been there about ten days, I was alarmed at seeing four men approaching me. All of them had guns, as if out on a shooting excursion. They expressed much surprise and pity on finding me there, and pressed me with questions. I would not give them any satisfactory account of myself, my wants, or intentions, being only anxious that they might withdraw. I found them, however, too much interested to render me some service to be easily sent away; and after some time, thinking there would be no other way, I pretended to go away not to return. After going some distance, and remaining some time, thinking they had probably left the place, I returned; but to my mortification found they had concealed themselves to see whether I would come back. They now, more urgently than before, insisted on my removing to some other place, where I might be comfortable. They continued to question me; but I became distressed in a degree I cannot describe, hardly knowing what I did. At last I called the oldest gentleman aside, and told him something of my history. He expressed great interest for me, offered to take me anywhere I would tell him, and at last insisted that I should go with him to his own house. All these offers I refused; on which one proposed to take me to the Almshouse, and even to carry me by force if I would not go willingly. To this I at length consented; but some delay took place, and I became unwilling, so that with reluctance I was taken to that institution, which was about half a mile distant. [Footnote: See the affidavit of Mr. Hilliker, in Appendix. The letter to which he refers I had forgotten to mention. It contains a short account of the crimes I had witnessed in the nunnery, and was written on paper which "little Tommy" had bought for me.] CHAPTER XXVI. Reception at the Almshouse--Message from Mr. Conroy, a Roman priest in New York--His invitations to a private interview--His claims, propositions, and threats--Mr. Kelly's message--Effects of reading the Bible. I was now at once made comfortable, and attended with kindness and care. It is not to be expected in such a place, where so many poor and suffering people are collected and duties of a difficult nature are to be daily performed by those engaged in the care of the institution, that petty vexations should not occur to individuals of all descriptions. But in spite of all, I received kindness and sympathy from several persons around me, to whom I feel thankful. I was standing one day at the window of the room number twenty-six, which is at the end of the hospital building, when I saw a spot I once visited in a little walk I took from my hiding-place. My feelings were different now in some respects, from what they had been; for, though I suffered much from my fears of future punishment, for the sin of breaking my Convent vows, I had given up the intention of destroying my life.