Ida prayed long and fervently.—When she arose, she found that her last taper was exhausted, and had left her in total darkness; this however gave her little concern. The religious duties, in which she had just been engaged, had inspired her heart with enthusiastic courage: besides, she knew well, that of the three ways branching out of the circular vault in which she was at that moment, she had only to chuse the middle one, which (as Father Hilarius had informed her) would conduct her straight to the outlet of the subterraneous passages. She ascertained easily by examining the walls, which of the three was the proper path to take, and then hastened boldly forwards; for she was now persuaded, that the invisible spirits of her ancestors hovered over her, and she dreaded no danger, while protected by those celestial guardians. The Monk had told her true—the way was straight and unembarrassed with windings: it soon began to ascend, and the delighted wanderer could at length discover the faint glimmering of day-light, through the distant opening. But alas! however near may be the goal of our wishes, who shall dare to count himself secure of reaching it!—Ida had for some minutes heard a dead hollow noise behind her, and the ill-boding sounds had already occasioned her sufficient anxiety to make her double her speed. Still the noise became more audible: and now she could plainly distinguish the steps of men, whose arms clattered, as they past along. She looked back, and could perceive the glimmering of faint lights at a distance. She rushed forwards with increased rapidity: the sounds, which became every moment louder, convinced her, not only that she was pursued, but that her pursuers gained upon her.—Fortunately, the opening was now at hand; she summoned up all her strength and activity to reach it, sprang through it, and found herself once more restored to air and light. —“Praised be Heaven, I am safe!” she exclaimed: when at that moment she felt a cold hand seize her by the arm.—She shrieked, and fell on the earth senseless. It was long, before her recollection returned. When she again unclosed her eyes, she found herself no longer in the open air. She was placed upon a kind of couch, in what she supposed to be a tent; a group of men of terrible and savage aspect surrounded her; and seated on a chest at no great distance, she perceived a warrior in complete armour, whose raised visor showed a countenance wild, ’tis true, but still noble and commanding. —“At length then we have found her!” said the warrior in a tone of exultation—“the lovely pilgrim is in our power, whom we so long sought in vain through yon gloomy vaults and subterraneous passages.—You are welcome, fair lady: Father Hilarius gave us notice, that we might expect your visit; and I rejoice to find, that the description which he gave us of your charms, was far from exaggerated.”—