"It is of no use," said I, despairingly, at last. "It must be midnight by this time. They are not coming, or they cannot find us." "They will surely come," said Amabel, firmly. "They can track us by our steps, the ground is so soft." She paused a moment, and then began, in her pure, sweet voice to chant the Miserere. "Have mercy upon me, O Lord!" How the words rung and echoed through those dismal vaults, and came back to us multiplied and changed by the echoes, till it seemed as if something or somebody was mocking us. I stopped once or twice; but Amabel sang on, holding my hand fast all the while. She told me afterward her chief fear was that I should break away from her in my terror, and that we should lose one another. We were just finishing the psalm, when Amabel's grasp on my hand tightened. I opened my eyes, which I had closed for a few moments, and saw a gleam of light. It flickered for a moment, glanced on the moist stones, and vanished. "What is it?" I whispered. "A death-light!" "Some one looking for us!" she replied. And, sure enough, in another moment a well-known voice called, "Children, where are you?" "Here, mother!" we both cried out at once; and I started to my feet and would have run forward, but Amabel checked me. "Wait!" said she. "Wait till we see the light, or we may be lost again." It could have been but a short time, but it seemed endless, till the voice called again, "Children!" And, joy of joys! We saw the light once more, and two dark figures coming through the gloom. "Here, dear mother, here we are!" cried Amabel, for I could not make a sound; and in a moment more we were in the arms of the Superior and Mother Prudentia. "Thank God, they are safe!" said the dear lady. "I feared we should have much more trouble in finding them. Hold the light well up, dear sister, and we will follow you. It will not do to miss our way again." Mother Prudentia went first with the light, and we followed, each clinging to a hand of Mother Superior. As we passed along, and I saw how many branching passages and alleys there were, I could not wonder that we had missed our way. At the entrance of one of the broadest of these, Mother Prudentia stopped short and, with a look I shall never forget, pointed out something on the ground to Mother Superior. I looked, but saw only the impress of our own wet and muddy footsteps upon the mouldy floor. "Holy Virgin!" said Mother Prudentia. "Surely you did not go down there!" "I don't know. I suppose so," answered Amabel, wearily, for she was not strong, and was growing very tired. "We went somewhere where the ground was all soft, and we began to sink in, and Lucy lost her shoes. Then we turned round and ran, till we came to where you found us." "Thank Heaven!" said the Superior again; and not another word was spoken till we reached the upper air, where Mother Bursar and the Mother Assistant, with two or three other elders, were waiting.