Victoria seized the hint, and with the rapidity of thought, made her arrangements. By means of the kite, the following night, a stouter line was raised to the aperture, and from this, one still stronger; and by means of the last, the prisoner drew up several other cutting implements--a boring auger, and several parcels of gunpowder. Lastly, a still larger cord was drawn up; and it was then arranged that on the following night, the attempt should be made to blast the massive walls of the tower. The next day, Victoria was busily employed in arranging the means of escape. She had procured the dress of a friar, both for herself and husband, and wore one over the other; and at midnight, she again took her station below the tower. Again she established the communication between herself and husband; and having raised to himself several other packets of gunpowder, lastly had fastened to the cord the lighted match. But at the very moment of success, she found a strong arm grasping her, and two ruffian soldiers, with unsheathed weapons, close at her breast. She screamed fearfully. The words--“bind her,” startled her still more, for it was the voice of Montalbert, the wretch who had caused the imprisonment of her husband. “Drag her away,” said the count. Victoria clung to the projecting walls of the castle, having fixed her fingers within a clamping-iron, and hung to it with the tenacity of one who clings to life; while her screams and lamentations filled the air. Albert heard it, and judged of the cause. He applied the match to the mine he had pierced through the stones of the tower. With a tremendous crack and explosion, the ancient walls opened, shook, collapsed, and fell. The tower was shattered to its foundation; and prisoner and dungeon, turret and battlement, fell down in one prodigious ruin, and with an uproar that shook the city. Montalbert lay dead among the ruins. The faithful Victoria was miraculously saved, and Albert rose from the fallen stones uninjured. He clasped his beloved wife to his heart, and without losing a moment’s time, both escaped in the confusion and consternation that followed. They soon proceeded far from Italy, to a land where imprisonment for conscience sake is unknown, where spiritual domination cannot usurp nature’s rights; and where the children of God can walk in security and peace; and that land was England. Here they lived the remainder of their days in all the enjoyment which this country of true liberty always affords to the fugitive and stranger. * * * * * A POINTED BLOW.--An invalid sent for a physician, the late Dr. Wheelman, and after detaining him for some time with a description of his pains, aches, &c., he thus summed up with-- “Now, Doctor, you have humbugged me long enough with your good-for-nothing pills and worthless syrups; they don’t touch the real difficulty. I wish you to strike the cause of my ailment, if it is in your power to reach it.”