Just as they came near the foot of the steps which led to their apartment, they saw, or thought they saw, a faint light gleam across a passage which led to another part of these gloomy habitations, and they imagined they perceived the figure of some one disappear at their approach. This alarmed the whole group, and they hurried up the stairs as hastily as their fears would let them. Having cautiously fastened the trap-door, they sat down to recover themselves, and recollected with a degree of horror and disgust the gloomy scenes they had visited; but the light, and the figure they had all caught a transient view of, dwelt most forcibly on their minds. Madeline declared she should never have sufficient resolution to re-visit these abodes of terror, contrived by the stern hands of despotism and ambition. "When we think, as we surely may, (said she,) with some degree of certainty, how many poor souls have languished out a life of misery in these gloomy cells, can we wonder if they are haunted by all they have entombed? Shut out not only from the world, but from every comfort, nature too recoils and shudders at the cruelties that may have been practised on the poor victims thus buried in the bowels of the earth." "All this may be very true, my sweet Madeline, (interrupted Edwin,) but I am determined to re-visit them. Perhaps some poor sufferers may still remain in the castle; if so, it would be delightful to soften the rigours of their fate." "True, my dear brother, (cried Roseline, her eyes illumined with the soft beams of genuine benevolence and philanthropy,) I will certainly attend you." "To quiet the fears of our lovely friend, (said Edwin,) I will request old Bertrand, who has lived in this castle from the time we came into it, to accompany and direct us in our search after misery. I am told too, (he added,) there is a passage which leads from this castle into the chapel of your nunnery. If I can find it out, I shall certainly pay you a visit, and steal you from your cell; for, my dear Madeline, whatever may be the truth and the virtues of our holy religion, it is doubtless one of its abuses to shut from the world those lovely works of the creation best calculated to enliven and adorn it. Can it be deemed a greater crime to doom a worthless, or, suppose I say, and innocent, man, to languish in a dungeon, that it is to compel an unfortunate female to waste her days in the austere walls of a nunnery,--kneel to the unfeeling image of a saint,--watch the midnight lamp,--seclude herself from all social enjoyments,--and linger through life in solitary sadness without a friend, or a lover, to cheer her on her way?" "Hush, for heaven's sake! (said the frightened Madeline;) if Father Anselm heard you talk thus lightly and profanely of our holy religion, I should be for ever debarred seeing you and Roseline again, for life shut out from the world, and compelled to take the veil."