On seeing a Stranger enter, Antonia uttered a cry of joy: But her hopes of receiving succour from him were soon dissipated. The supposed Novice, without expressing the least surprize at finding a Woman alone with the Monk, in so strange a place, and at so late an hour, addressed him thus without losing a moment. “What is to be done, Ambrosio? We are lost, unless some speedy means is found of dispelling the Rioters. Ambrosio, the Convent of St. Clare is on fire; The Prioress has fallen a victim to the fury of the Mob. Already is the Abbey menaced with a similar fate. Alarmed at the threats of the People, the Monks seek for you everywhere. They imagine that your authority alone will suffice to calm this disturbance. No one knows what is become of you, and your absence creates universal astonishment and despair. I profited by the confusion, and fled hither to warn you of the danger.” “This will soon be remedied,” answered the Abbot; “I will hasten back to my Cell: a trivial reason will account for my having been missed.” “Impossible!” rejoined Matilda: “The Sepulchre is filled with Archers. Lorenzo de Medina, with several Officers of the Inquisition, searches through the Vaults, and pervades every passage. You will be intercepted in your flight; Your reasons for being at this late hour in the Sepulchre will be examined; Antonia will be found, and then you are undone for ever!” “Lorenzo de Medina? Officers of the Inquisition? What brings them here? Seek they for me? Am I then suspected? Oh! speak, Matilda! Answer me, in pity!” “As yet they do not think of you, but I fear that they will ere long. Your only chance of escaping their notice rests upon the difficulty of exploring this Vault. The door is artfully hidden: Haply it may not be observed, and we may remain concealed till the search is over.” “But Antonia ..... Should the Inquisitors draw near, and her cries be heard ....” “Thus I remove that danger!” interrupted Matilda. At the same time drawing a poignard, She rushed upon her devoted prey. “Hold! Hold!” cried Ambrosio, seizing her hand, and wresting from it the already lifted weapon. “What would you do, cruel Woman? The Unfortunate has already suffered but too much, thanks to your pernicious consels! Would to God that I had never followed them! Would to God that I had never seen your face!” Matilda darted upon him a look of scorn. “Absurd!” She exclaimed with an air of passion and majesty which impressed the Monk with awe. “After robbing her of all that made it dear, can you fear to deprive her of a life so miserable? But ’tis well! Let her live to convince you of your folly. I abandon you to your evil destiny! I disclaim your alliance! Who trembles to commit so insignificant a crime, deserves not my protection. Hark! Hark! Ambrosio; Hear you not the Archers? They come, and your destruction is inevitable!”