“And through this opening did a voice now reach me, whose melancholy tones seemed those of a female! It sounded so audibly, that all my doubts vanished at once, and all my sensations resolved themselves into the single eager enquiry—‘By what means I could assist the sufferer?’— —“Are you then come at last?” answered the voice; “but speak louder, for I cannot understand what you say!—My senses are so confused ... and my brain seems to whirl round and round so rapidly!”— “I repeated my enquiries, but with no better effect.” —“I hear the sound of your voice, but not your words,” answered the captive; “and weakness prevents my dragging myself nearer to the grate—Do you bring me food?—Alas! it is so long since you last visited me!—I was afraid, that you had died suddenly—Afraid, did I say?—Oh! Heaven, who would have suspected, that I should ever have dreaded Luprian’s death!”— “These words were pronounced slowly, and in broken sentences. I now stretched my voice to its utmost extent, and dwelt with peculiar emphasis on the words “Help” and “Liberty.” —“Liberty?” she repeated; “no, Luprian; at your price it would be too dearly purchased. Urge me no more to be the partner of your flight: could I have ever stooped to disgrace, I need not have languished so long in this dreary dungeon. If I have no choice left but death or infamy, I prefer the former; leave me, and let me die!—And yet.... Oh! God in Heaven! To part with even the most miserable existence is so bitter.... Oh! it is still so bitter!” “I saw, that it would be vain for me to labour any more at making myself understood; and the faint tone, in which these last words were uttered, alarmed me. Yet I spoke once again, but no answer was returned; I doubted not, that the unfortunate had fainted. “How I might effect her delivery with the utmost celerity, I knew not; yet in my anguish and uncertainty I accidentally struck upon that, which was most prudent: I hastened to the small temporary building inhabited by Abbot John and his Monks; I related in a few words what had happened, and requested their advice. “The Fraternity one and all hastened with me to the vault, every one bearing a mattock, a pick-axe, or some such instrument. They were holy benevolent men, resembling the original founders of their Order, and had escaped as it were by a miracle from the flames, in which their guilty brethren had perished. They were eager to redeem by their own conduct the slur, which the crimes of others had brought upon their Convent, and were as greedy of good actions, as most other Monks are of rich legacies and well-stored cellars.