I am in doubt as to Donat’s reasons for not immediately proceeding to the last extremities with his wife: that sentiment towards her, which he had chosen to dignify with the name of love, had long ago disappeared; and his late atrocious act, which had proved the destruction of the whole Orders of Curwald and St. Roswitha, had left him no scruples to overcome. One murder more or less, what did that signify to a man, who had arrived at so dreadful a height of guilt?—The most probable cause for Donat’s moderation was, _fear_: Helen was the Count of Homburg’s daughter; was niece to the Count of Mayenfield; and had been affianced to the Count of Torrenburg, who it was well known, would not suffer her to be injured with impunity. These considerations made Donat hesitate, as to the course which he was now to pursue. Donat past two days in resolving, whether it would not be possible to bring Helen to confess herself guilty. This would justify him in the eyes of her relations for any severity, which he might think proper to inflict upon her; but when he considered his wife’s character, he saw little prospect of persuading her to declare herself infamous. In the mean while Helen was suffered to remain tranquil in her dungeon; and her husband was still meditating how to avoid the vengeance of her friends, when the Castle was unexpectedly attacked by enemies incensed upon a different account. He might indeed have foreseen, that the Bishop of Coira would not pass over the destruction of Cloister-Curwald in silence; occupied however by his anger against Helen, Donat had bestowed no thought upon the Bishop; and the avengers of the Monks of Curwald were at the gates of Sargans, before any one had even bestowed a thought on the possibility of such an attack.