answered--“Alonzo,” and passed me onward in a moment. I had then a few moments leisure to reflect on a destiny thus singularly entrusted to a being whose affections honoured humanity, and a being whose crimes disgraced it. I was suspended like Mahomet’s tomb between heaven and earth. I felt an antipathy indescribable to hold any communication with a monster who had tried to hide the stains of parricide, by casting over their bloody and ineffaceable traces the shroud of monasticism. I felt also an inexpressible terror of Juan’s passions and precipitancy; and I felt ultimately that I was in the power of all I dreaded most, and must submit to the operation of that power for my liberation. “I was in the cloisters the following evening. I cannot say I walked with a step so equal, but I am sure I did with a step much more artificially regular. For the second time the same person touched my habit, and whispered the name of Juan. After this I could no longer hesitate. I said, in passing, “I am in your power.” A hoarse repulsive voice answered, “No, I am in yours.” I murmured, “Well, then, I understand you, we belong to each other.”--“Yes. We must not speak here, but a fortunate opportunity presents itself for our communication. To-morrow will be the eve of the feast of Pentecost; the vigil is kept by the whole community, who go two and two every hour to the altar, pass their hour in prayer, and then are succeeded by two more, and this continues all night. Such is the aversion with which you have inspired the community, that they have one and all refused to accompany you during your hour, which is to be from two till three. You will therefore be alone, and during your hour I will come and visit you,--we shall be undisturbed and unsuspected.” At these words he quitted me. The next night was the eve of Pentecost, the monks went two and two all night to the altar,--at two o’clock my turn arrived. They rapped at my cell, and I descended to the church alone.” CHAPTER VIII. Ye monks and nuns throughout the land, Who go to church at night in pairs, Never take bell-ropes in your hands, To raise you up again from prayers. COLMAN.