of us?” till he had worked himself into a state of fury; and, suddenly turning on me, he exclaimed, “Wretch! renounce your horrible resolution,--renounce it this moment! I give you but five minutes for consideration.” “Five thousand would make no change.” “Tremble, then, lest you should not have life spared to see the fulfilment of your impious purposes.” “As he uttered these words he rushed from my cell. The moments I passed during his absence were, I think, the most horrible of my life. Their terror was aggravated by darkness, for it was now night, and he had carried away the light along with him. My agitation did not at first permit me to observe this. I felt I was in the dark, but knew not how or why. A thousand images of indescribable horror rushed in a host on me. I had heard much of the terrors of convents,--of their punishments, often carried to the infliction of death, or of reducing their victim to a state in which death would have been a blessing. Dungeons, chains, and scourges, swam before my eyes in a fiery mist. The threatening words of the Superior appeared emblazoned on the darkened walls of my cell in characters of flame. I shuddered,--I cried aloud, though conscious that my voice would be echoed by no friendly answering tones in a community of sixty persons,--such is the sterility of humanity in a convent. At last my very fears recovered me by their excess. I said to myself, “They dare not murder me,--they dare not incarcerate me;--they are answerable to the court to which I have appealed for my forthcoming,--they dare not be guilty of any violence.” Just as I had come to this comfortable conclusion, which indeed was the triumph of the sophistry of hope, the door of my cell was thrown open, and the Superior, attended by his four satellites, re-entered. My eyes were dim from the darkness in which I had been left, but I could distinguish that they carried with them a rope and a piece of sackcloth. I drew the most frightful presages from this apparatus. I altered my reasoning in a moment, and instead of saying they dare not do so and so, I instantly argued, “What dare they not do? I am in their power,--they know it. I have provoked them to the utmost,--what is it monks will not do in the impotence of their malignity?--what is to become of me?” They advanced, and I imagined the rope was to strangle me, and the sackcloth to inclose my murdered body. A thousand images of blood swam before me,--a gush of fire choaked up my respiration. The groans of a thousand victims seemed to rise from the vaults of the convent, to which they had been hurried by a fate like mine. I know not what is death, but I am convinced I suffered the agonies of many deaths in that moment. My first impulse was to throw myself on my knees. I said, “I am in your power,--I am guilty in your eyes,--accomplish your purpose, but do not keep me long in pain.” The Superior, without heeding, or perhaps hearing me, said, “Now you are in