I prest my trembling friend to my heart with affection, recommended her the kindness of her attendants, and then hastened, where I was far less invited by courage and resolution than by urgent necessity and despair. We gave the reins to our coursers, flew over the plain, and soon reached the winding pass through the mountains, where our brave friends had been subdued by treachery and malice. Ah! what a dreadful sight! the place of combat floated with blood! various were the occasions presented to induce our pity to stop, in the hope of rescuing from death some of his yet lingering victims: but still more weighty considerations compelled us to close our ears against the cries of suffering humanity, and pursue our progress without delay. However, I failed not to leave some of my people behind to discharge those offices, which I would so much more gladly have fulfilled myself; and I charged them (in case any thing of importance could be learned from those who still survived) to lose no time in bringing me the information. It was from them, that I learned the road, which the forces of the Abbot of St. Gall (whose number trebled ours) had taken with the captive knights. It was not yet evening, when I reached the fortress, which had been pointed out to me as the prison of my friends. We prepared for storming the walls. I possest among my followers several experienced warriors, who supplied my want of intelligence in affairs of this nature, and who seemed to derive double strength from witnessing my resolution, the resolution of a distracted woman! It was not long, before we saw a white flag waved by the besieged; and soon after (having received our solemn promise for the security of his invaluable person) we beheld on the battlements the robber of my beloved friends, the oppressor of the unprotected innocent, in short the execrable Abbot of St. Gall. I had taken off my helmet to cool my burning cheeks; and my ringlets still adorned with flowers, which in my haste I had forgotten to remove, streamed freely in the wind of evening: the Abbot therefore easily guest at my sex and name. —“You are welcome, fair damsel of Sargans!” said the monk with a malicious smile; “the friends, of whom you are in pursuit, are no longer inmates of these walls: then forbear to persecute the innocent! lay aside that heavy armour, which so ill befits your sex, and enter to partake with us, poor monks, of a friendly though frugal entertainment!”—