'Thank God only two; who, moreover, are no great loss!' answered the clerk, turning again to show them the way. 'An officer, wishing to instruct us how to blow out the ore, so managed that instead of the ore he blew himself into the air, and a piece of the roof of the mine with him.' 'The explosion was too violent for a mere removal of ore,' remarked Swedenborg. 'Very true, most honored sir,' answered the clerk. 'There also went with it a small cask of powder which was standing near.' By this time they had arrived at the place. The thick smoke almost suffocated them. The torches of the miners, hurrying to and fro, like nebulous stars, faintly lighted the scene of destruction. A monstrous mountain mass, consisting mostly of rocks and stones, had become loosened by the force of the shock, and covered the bottom to a great height with fragments, through the fissures of which little flames were seen playing. 'They will lie quietly in this coffin until the last day!' observed the clerk. 'In God's name!' shrieked Christine, 'who is the other sufferer?' 'The brigand leader, who was sentenced here for life,' answered the clerk, with indifference. 'Mac Donalbain!' murmured the poor wife, sinking lifeless to the earth. CHAPTER LIII. Christine lay at the parsonage in that last hard struggle which releases the soul from its earthly imprisonment. At her bed-side sat Arwed, with humid eyes, his hands in the cold grasp of hers. Near her pillow stood Swedenborg, with his piercing prophet-glance fixed immovably upon the sufferer. 'The symptoms of death are already observable,' whispered he to the weeping curate. 'Her end is near.' 'She has suffered so much,' said Arwed, 'that if her heart were iron it must break under these hard and repeated blows.' At this moment Christine suddenly rose in her bed, turned her beauteous eyes with heavenly tenderness upon Arwed, and eagerly pressed his hand to her bosom.