In an instant, she was on her knees before the image of her God, pouring forth the whole of her innocent and spotless soul, in the holiest of supplications. She prayed for aid from on high to preserve her unstained virtue; she prayed for strength from on high to resist temptation; she prayed for pardon from on high for her sins and errors past, for grace that she might err no more in future; she prayed that HE, who alone could pity human suffering--for that he had suffered as no man suffereth--would touch the hearts of her ruthless persecutors, through his Virgin Mother; she prayed that he would console her sorrowing parents, and him whom she scarcely dared think of, so terrible she knew must be his anguish; lastly, she prayed for pardon to her persecutor, and that, if she were doomed that night to perish, her soul might be received to grace, through the intercession of the saints, and her, the ever-blessed, the Virgin Mother Mary! Her prayer, if in form it were erroneous, in spirit was sincere and fervent; and, as sincere and fervent prayers _will_ ever, surely _must_ hers have found a hearing at the throne of mercy, for she arose from her knees confirmed, if not consoled, and strengthened in her virtuous principles, and calm by the very strength of her resolves. Then, opening the oriel window, she stepped out into the little balcony, or bartizan, which projected out beyond the face of the wall--perhaps in the hope of finding some means of escape; but, alas! if such a hope had flattered her, it was delusive; for there was no egress from it, nor any method of descending; and it impended far over the broad, deep moat, a hundred feet or more above its dark, clear waters--which, she remembered to have heard men say, were fifty feet in depth to the bottom of their rock-hewn channel. Long, long she gazed over the lovely sunlit valley of her birth, which all lay mapped out in the glorious glow before her eyes; the happy home among the limes, beneath which she was born; the happier home of promise, into which she had hoped that day to be led by him whom she loved the best; the little chapel in the dell, among the oaks, in which she had plighted, that very morn, her faith for ever, until death, and death alone, should dissolve the bonds. “And death alone,” she exclaimed, as the thoughts swelled upon her soul, “and death alone shall dissolve them! But I must not look upon these things--I must not think of him--or my spirit will sink into utter weakness!” Then she paused, and, leaning over the low breastwork of the bartizan, looked down with a steady eye into the abyss, and crossing herself as she rose--“May God assoil my soul, if I be driven to do this thing, as do it of a surety I will, if otherwise I may not save my honor!”