"As soon as the child is born it is taken away, and carried we know not whither; for we never hear a syllable mentioned about it afterward. I have been in this house six years, was not fourteen when the officers took me from my father's house, and have had one child. There are, at this present time, fifty-two young ladies in the house; but we annually lose six or eight, though we know not what becomes of them, or whither they are sent. This, however, does not diminish our number, for new ones are always brought in to supply the place of those who are removed from hence; and I remember, at one time, to have seen seventy-three ladies here together. Our continual torment is to reflect that when they are tired of any of the ladies, they certainly put to death those they pretend to send away; for it is natural to think, that they have too much policy to suffer their atrocious and infernal villanies to be discovered, by enlarging them. Hence our situation is miserable indeed, and we have only to pray that the Almighty will pardon those crimes which we are compelled to commit. Therefore, my dear sister, arm yourself with patience, for that is the only palliative to give you comfort, and put a firm confidence in the providence of Almighty God." This discourse of Leonora greatly affected me; but I found everything to be as she told me, in the course of time, and I took care to appear as cheerful as possible before Mary. In this manner I continued eighteen months, during which time eleven ladies were taken from the house; but in lieu of them we got nineteen new ones, which made our number just sixty, at the time we were so happily relieved by the French officers, and providentially restored to the joys of society, and to the arms of our parents and friends. On that happy day, the door of my dungeon was opened by the gentleman who is now my husband, and who with the utmost expedition, sent both Leonora and me to his father's; and (soon after the campaign was over) when he returned home, he thought proper to make me his wife, in which situation I enjoy a recompense for all the miseries I before suffered. From the foregoing narrative it is evident, that the inquisitors are a set of libidinous villains, lost to every just idea of religion, and totally destitute of humanity. Those who possess wealth, beauty, or liberal sentiments, are sure to find enemies in them. Avarice, lust, and prejudice, are their ruling passions; and they sacrifice every law, human and divine, to gratify their predominant desire. Their supposed piety is affectation; their pretended compassion hypocrisy; their justice depends on their will: and their equitable punishments are founded on their prejudices. None are secure from them, all ranks fall equally victims to their pride, their power, their avarice, or their aversion.