she had reached, was not totally unknown to her. She stopped, and looking down discovered lying on the earth, torn from its hinges, and considerably shattered the low door of that dungeon, which Donat had destined for her grave. She now exerted her whole strength to pass onwards, without falling into an enormous chasm, which had been formed by the late convulsion, and which occupied almost the whole breadth of the passage. She shuddered, as she remarked, that the earth had fallen into the dungeon, and would infallibly have smothered her, had she remained there but a few minutes longer. She reached the opposite side of the chasm with much difficulty, but unhurt. She was now certain, that the Castle was at no great distance: but she dreaded either to miss the proper road, or to find it rendered impassable by earth and rubbish. Should either happen, she had no alternative left but perishing of hunger in these frightful dungeons: nor had she much time left her for deliberation, since her torch already began to draw towards its end. Observing this, she rushed forwards with desperate resolution, and committed herself to the guidance of chance. Accident, or rather a benevolent Providence directed her footsteps; and she reached the staircase and Urania’s chamber, before her strength entirely failed her. Here then she rested at length; but that rest was insensibility. After some time her recollection returned. She raised herself, and saw with surprise, that the chamber, which Donat to favour his escape had caused to be fastened so carefully, was filled with people. She felt, that they conveyed her to a couch, and rendered her every possible assistance; and she heard them make a thousand kind enquiries respecting her health and her wishes: but her strength both of mind and body was so completely exhausted, that she found it impossible to pronounce a word, or even make a sign, that she was sensible of their attentions. It was pain, which enabled her to give the first token of sensation. Her arms and bosom were much bruised, and the blood streamed copiously from a wound on her head. She has never been able to recollect, whether she received these injuries, when Donat threw her down the dungeon steps, or from her being struck by the falling stones while making her escape. The persons, who surrounded her couch, lost no time in binding up her wounds, and the pain of this operation forced from her a feeble cry. Finding that she was now sensible, they repeated their enquiries as to what had happened to her, and how she had been brought into so terrible a condition. She stammered out the word “earthquake!” Where was Count Donat, was the next demand, which she answered by pointing to the private door conducting to the vaults. She was soon removed to a more quiet chamber, and the care which was taken of her convinced her, that she had not fallen into the hands of enemies.