But mutual confidence, that outpouring of the soul's heavy secrets, which so much alleviates the distress of the female mind, did not spring up between the countess and Flora; because the former shrank from revealing the narrative of her frailty, and the latter chose not to impart her love for the young Count of Riverola. Nevertheless, the countess gave her companion to understand that she had friends without, who were acquainted with the fact of her removal to the Carmelite convent, and on whose fidelity as well as a resolute valor she could reckon; for the promise made to her by the robber-captain, and the idea that the Marquis of Orsini would not leave her to the dreadful fate of eternal seclusion in that place, flashed to her mind when the first access of despair had passed. Flora was delighted to hear that such a hope animated the Countess of Arestino: and throwing herself at her feet, she said, "Oh! lady, should'st thou have the power to save me----" "Thinkest thou that I would leave thee here, in this horrible dungeon?" interrupted the countess, raising Flora from her suppliant position on the cold pavement of the cell, and embracing her. "No, if those on whom I rely fulfill the hope that we have entertained we shall go forth together. And, oh!" added the countess, "were all Florence to rise up against this accursed institution, pillage it, and sack it, and raze it to the ground, so that not one stone shall remain upon another, heaven could not frown upon the deed! For surely demons in mortal shape must have invented that terrible engine by means of which I was consigned to this subterrane!" The recollection of the anguish she had suffered during the descent, a mental agony that Flora herself could fully appreciate, she having passed through the same infernal ordeal, produced a cold shudder which oscillated throughout Giulia's entire form. But we shall not dwell upon this portion of our tale; for the reader is about to pass to scenes of so thrilling a nature, that all he has yet read in the preceding chapters are as nothing to the events which will occupy those that are to follow. We said then, at the opening of this chapter, that six days had elapsed since Flora became an inmate of the convent, and four since circumstances had given her a companion in the person of Giulia of Arestino. It was on the sixth night, and the two inmates of the gloomy cell were preparing to retire to their humble pallet, after offering their prayers to the Virgin, for adversity had already taught the countess to pray, and to pray devoutly, too, when they were startled and alarmed by the sudden clang of a large bell fixed in some part of the subterrane. The echoes which it raised, and the monotonous vibration of the air which it produced, struck terror to their souls. A minute elapsed, and again the bell struck. Flora and the countess exchanged glances of terror and mysterious doubt, so ominous was that sound.