—“There are few hearts,” said Guiderius, “so hardened as to resist the tears which flow from the eyes of women, or the voice of God when it speaks from the lips of his servants. I am thoroughly persuaded, that Count Donat’s fury would be this moment disarmed, could he witness the streams of anguish, which fear of his vengeance forces into eyes so bright; nor did he once see you kneeling at his feet, could he resist raising you, to fall himself at yours. But you are unconscious of the power which Heaven confided to you, when he formed you so lovely; or knowing it, you will not condescend to make it of use. Well then! Let us have recourse to some other means of softening Count Donat. Permit me to assemble the whole brotherhood of my convent in the Castle-chapel: these holy monks shall form around you with their prayers a wall more solid than one of brass; as soon as your dreaded foe approaches, I will place myself at their head, go forth with them to meet him, command him in the name of our patron-saint to lay aside his blood-thirsty designs, and you will be astonished to witness the effects of our interference.”— I consented to his proposal. Guiderius gave his orders; and it was not long before _the holy monks_ (no one but their Abbot could have had the assurance to call them holy) set forth on their march with all possible solemnity, and with every circumstance of pomp, which might make them appear of the more consequence in the eyes of him, to whom their embassy was addrest. They laid no slight stress upon the merit of this act of heroism, as they scrupled not to call their interference; and one of the most learned brethren went so far, as to compare their conduct with that of the Roman Deeii, who for the general good devoted themselves to the infernal gods; a comparison, which would have extorted a smile from Minna and myself, had any thing at that moment of danger been capable of making us smile. We waited for the return of these modern Deeii with inexpressible anxiety. Yet unhappy as we were, and much as we required all our strength of mind and body to support _ourselves_, we were compelled to exhaust our powers in the difficult task of preventing Ethelbert from sinking under his apprehensions of his foe’s approach, which he dreaded, as if it had been that of an avenging Deity. During the consultation, which took place on the proposition of Guiderius, we had been necessitated to leave the wretched sufferer to himself. After the departure of the monks, we found him to our great astonishment busied in removing the stone, which covered the mouth of that well, which I have already mentioned as being so terrible to him in his hours of distraction. A variety of circumstances, as well as some broken sentences, which at first escaped from him, left us no doubt, with what object he had sought that particular spot, and what would have been the event, had we not arrived in time to rescue him from his own fury.