She was perfectly ignorant of all, that had passed during her captivity. She had given her gaoler’s assertions implicit credit, and firmly believed, that the few persons whom she loved were numbered among the dead.—With what joy did she hear from Helen’s lips the assurance, that Amalberga was alive and happy, and that she herself was indebted for her release to no other than Herman of Werdenberg!—In truth, she had hitherto been resolved to discourage the attachment of this unknown warrior; but this resolution only lasted, till she discovered his real name. Present gratitude and former affection now gave him a double interest in her heart: yet did it not so totally overpower all other feelings, as to determine her to forget entirely the injustice of his former conduct. She was resolved to put him to a severe trial; she was besides not quite certain, that his ancient prejudices might not still have some influence over him; but a few conversations with the Knight were sufficient to efface every suspicion on this subject. He frequently visited his unknown mistress at the Convent-grate, where (the better to elude a discovery) she never appeared without a veil: with every visit his attachment evidently increased in strength; yet even in her presence he frequently bestowed a sigh upon the rejected Emmeline, whom he never mentioned but in terms of interest and compassion. This conduct was not without its advantage, and when he was soon after compelled to fulfill his vow of assisting in the crusade against the infidel Albigese, he did not depart without hopes of being welcome at his return. During his absence the meeting took place between Emmeline and her beloved sister. Helen had at length gained such perfect mastery over her feelings, as to endure without agony the presence of Torrenburg and the happy Amalberga; and she and Urania were the delighted witnesses of a scene, which appeared rather calculated for the regions of light beyond the grave, than for the habitation of wretched mortality. Amalberga, clasped in the arms of that sister, whom she had so long numbered with the dead; Torrenburg, Urania, and Helen, the spectators of and the partners in their joy; and then the relation of Emmeline’s cruel sufferings; and then the description of Amalberga’s unclouded happiness; and then the brilliant prospects for the future which displayed themselves to both, and which for _this_ time were no illusions.... No, I will not trust my feeble pen with the description!