"Most happily," replied Leonora; "Mona Francesca--it was but yesterday--had made a great exertion for her, and shown me all the apartments of the villa, the passages, the corridors, and even the private way, which her husband constructed before his death, from the old part of the villa to the monastery above. He was a very pious man, she said, and often ascended by that passage to pray alone in the church. I know not why, but I had remarked the passage particularly and the secret door that led to it; and, without any reason that I know of, I had opened and shut the door several times, as if to make myself completely mistress of the means. It would almost seem that I had a presentiment that my safety might depend upon it; and yet I do not remember any such feeling at the time. Now, however, when I heard the footsteps of the three men following me fast, I darted past my own room, and, winged with fear, fled through the corridors toward the apartments of Mona Francesca; but I heard voices and loud words in that direction, and, turning sharply to the right through the old stone hall, I came suddenly on the secret door, and had opened, passed in, and closed it before I well knew what I was doing. I stopped as soon as I had entered the passage, and leaned against the wall for support, for I was terrified and out of breath with the rapidity of my flight. Every moment I expected to hear them at the door, and, though it was well concealed in the masonry, feared they might discover it and break in. I suppose that my quickness in threading passages which they did not know had puzzled them, for I heard no steps approach the door while I stood there. But other and terrible sounds met my ear. I heard the shrieks of women. Oh! dear Lorenzo, I heard the voice of my own poor girl Judita crying for mercy; and I fled onward to the monastery; hoping that the good monks might be able to give that help which I could not give. I know not well how I came hither, but it was through long passages, and up many flights of steps, and at last I found myself in the church. Nor can I well describe to you all that followed, for my brain seemed confused and stupified with terror. The prior, and, indeed, all the monks, were very kind to me; but when I besought them to go down and help the poor people in the villa, they shook their heads sadly, and pointed to the red light that was rising up over the tree-tops. The prior, however, brought me along these passages to a room beyond--it is in one of the towers upon the walls, I believe--and, leaving me there told me I should be safe, and that he would go to see what could be done for my poor kinswoman. Oh, Lorenzo, what a terrible half hour I passed there; and, at length, sorrow was added to fear, for they bore in upon a pallet poor Mona Francesca, living, it is true, and, I trust, likely to live, but dreadfully burned; her neck, her face, her hands, all scorched and swollen, to that you would not know her.