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！'
  At　this　moment　the　Abbot　heard　the　sound　of　distant　voices。　　He
  flew　to　close　the　door　on　whose　concealment　his　safety　depended；
  and　which　Matilda　had　neglected　to　fasten。　　Ere　He　could　reach
  it；　He　saw　Antonia　glide　suddenly　by　him；　rush　through　the　door；
  and　fly　towards　the　noise　with　the　swiftness　of　an　arrow。　　She
  had　listened　attentively　to　Matilda：　　She　heard　Lorenzo's　name
  mentioned；　and　resolved　to　risque　every　thing　to　throw　herself
  under　his　protection。　　The　door　was　open。　　The　sounds　convinced
  her　that　the　Archers　could　be　at　no　great　distance。　　She
  mustered　up　her　little　remaining　strength；　rushed　by　the　Monk　ere
  He　perceived　her　design；　and　bent　her　course　rapidly　towards　the
  voices。　　As　soon　as　He　recovered　from　his　first　surprize；　the
  Abbot　failed　not　to　pursue　her。　　In　vain　did　Antonia　redouble　her
  speed；　and　stretch　every　nerve　to　the　utmost。　　Her　Enemy　gained
  upon　her　every　moment：　　She　heard　his　steps　close　after　her；　and
  felt　the　heat　of　his　breath　glow　upon　her　neck。　　He　overtook
  her；　He　twisted　his　hand　in　the　ringlets　of　her　streaming　hair；
  and　attempted　to　drag　her　back　with　him　to　the　dungeon。　　Antonia
  resisted　with　all　her　strength：　　She　folded　her　arms　round　a
  Pillar　which　supported　the　roof；　and　shrieked　loudly　for
  assistance。　In　vain　did　the　Monk　strive　to　threaten　her　to
  silence。
  'Help！'　She　continued　to　exclaim；　'Help！　Help！　for　God's　sake！'
  Quickened　by　her　cries；　the　sound　of　footsteps　was　heard
  approaching。　　The　Abbot　expected　every　moment　to　see　the
  Inquisitors　arrive。　　Antonia　still　resisted；　and　He　now　enforced
  her　silence　by　means　the　most　horrible　and　inhuman。　　He　still
  grasped　Matilda's　dagger：　Without　allowing　himself　a　moment's
  reflection；　He　raised　it；　and　plunged　it　twice　in　the　bosom　of
  Antonia！　　She　shrieked；　and　sank　upon　the　ground。　　The　Monk
  endeavoured　to　bear　her　away　with　him；　but　She　still　embraced　the
  Pillar　firmly。　　At　that　instant　the　light　of　approaching　Torches
  flashed　upon　the　Walls。　　Dreading　a　discovery；　Ambrosio　was
  compelled　to　abandon　his　Victim；　and　hastily　fled　back　to　the
  Vault；　where　He　had　left　Matilda。
  He　fled　not　unobserved。　　Don　Ramirez　happening　to　arrive　the
  first；　perceived　a　Female　bleeding　upon　the　ground；　and　a　Man
  flying　from　the　spot；　whose　confusion　betrayed　him　for　the
  Murderer。　　He　instantly　pursued　the　Fugitive　with　some　part　of
  the　Archers；　while　the　Others　remained　with　Lorenzo　to　protect
  the　wounded　Stranger。　They　raised　her；　and　supported　her　in　their
  arms。　　She　had　fainted　from　excess　of　pain；　but　soon　gave　signs
  of　returning　life。　　She　opened　her　eyes；　and　on　lifting　up　her
  head；　the　quantity　of　fair　hair　fell　back　which　till　then　had
  obscured　her　features。
  'God　Almighty！　　It　is　Antonia！'
  Such　was　Lorenzo's　exclamation；　while　He　snatched　her　from　the
  Attendant's　arms；　and　clasped　her　in　his　own。
  Though　aimed　by　an　uncertain　hand；　the　poignard　had　answered　but
  too　well　the　purpose　of　its　Employer。　The　wounds　were　mortal；　and
  Antonia　was　conscious　that　She　never　could　recover。　　Yet　the　few
  moments　which　remained　for　her　were　moments　of　happiness。　　The
  concern　exprest　upon　Lorenzo's　countenance；　the　frantic　fondness
  of　his　complaints；　and　his　earnest　enquiries　respecting　her
  wounds；　convinced　her　beyond　a　doubt　that　his　affections　were　her
  own。　　She　would　not　be　removed　from　the　Vaults；　fearing　lest
  motion　should　only　hasten　her　death；　and　She　was　unwilling　to
  lose　those　moments　which　She　past　in　receiving　proofs　of
  Lorenzo's　love；　and　assuring　him　of　her　own。　　She　told　him　that
  had　She　still　been　undefiled　She　might　have　lamented　the　loss　of
  life；　But　that　deprived　of　honour　and　branded　with　shame；　Death
  was　to　her　a　blessing：　　She　could　not　have　been　his　Wife；　and
  that　hope　being　denied　her；　She　resigned　herself　to　the　Grave
  without　one　sigh　of　regret。　　She　bad　him　take　courage；　conjured
  him　not　to　abandon　himself　to　fruitless　sorrow；　and　declared　that
  She　mourned　to　leave　nothing　in　the　whole　world　but　him。　　While
  every　sweet　accent　increased　rather　than　lightened　Lorenzo's
  grief；　She　continued　to　converse　with　him　till　the　moment　of
  dissolution。　　Her　voice　grew　faint　and　scarcely　audible；　A　thick
  cloud　spread　itself　over　her　eyes；　Her　heart　beat　slow　and
  irregular；　and　every　instant　seemed　to　announce　that　her　fate　was
  near　at　hand。
  She　lay；　her　head　reclining　upon　Lorenzo's　bosom；　and　her　lips
  still　murmuring　to　him　words　of　comfort。　　She　was　interrupted　by
  the　Convent　Bell；　as　tolling　at　a　distance；　it　struck　the　hour。
  Suddenly　Antonia's　eyes　sparkled　with　celestial　brightness：　　Her
  frame　seemed　to　have　received　new　strength　and　animation。　　She
  started　from　her　Lover's　arms。
  'Three　o'clock！'　She　cried；　'Mother；　I　come！'
  She　clasped　her　hands；　and　sank　lifeless　upon　the　ground。
  Lorenzo　in　agony　threw　himself　beside　her：　　He　tore　his　hair；
  beat　his　breast；　and　refused　to　be　separated　from　the　Corse。　　At
  length　his　force　being　exhausted；　He　suffered　himself　to　be　led
  from　the　Vault；　and　was　conveyed　to　the　Palace　de　Medina　scarcely
  more　alive　than　the　unfortunate　Antonia。
  In　the　meanwhile；　though　closely　pursued；　Ambrosio　succeeded　in
  regaining　the　Vault。　　The　Door　was　already　fastened　when　Don
  Ramirez　arrived；　and　much　time　elapsed；　ere　the　Fugitive's
  retreat　was　discovered。　　But　nothing　can　resist　perseverance。
  Though　so　artfully　concealed；　the　Door　could　not　escape　the
  vigilance　of　the　Archers。　　They　forced　it　open；　and　entered　the
  Vault　to　the　infinite　dismay　of　Ambrosio　and　his　Companion。　　The
  Monk's　confusion；　his　attempt　to　hide　himself；　his　rapid　flight；
  and　the　blood　sprinkled　upon　his　cloaths；　left　no　room　to　doubt
  his　being　Antonia's　Murderer。　　But　when　He　was　recognized　for　the
  immaculate　Ambrosio；　'The　Man　of　Holiness；'　the　Idol　of　Madrid；
  the　faculties　of　the　Spectators　were　chained　up　in　surprize；　and
  scarcely　could　they　persuade　themselves　that　what　they　saw　was　no
  vision。　　The　Abbot　strove　not　to　vindicate　himself；　but　preserved
  a　sullen　silence。　　He　was　secured　and　bound。　　The　same　precaution
  was　taken　with　Matilda：　　Her　Cowl　being　removed；　the　delicacy　of
  her　features　and　profusion　of　her　golden　hair　betrayed　her　sex；
  and　this　incident　created　fresh　amazement。　　The　dagger　was　also
  found　in　the　Tomb；　where　the　Monk　had　thrown　it；　and　the　dungeon
  having　undergone　a　thorough　search；　the　two　Culprits　were
  conveyed　to　the　prisons　of　the　Inquisition。
  Don　Ramirez　took　care　that　the　populace　should　remain　ignorant
  both　of　the　crimes　and　profession　of　the　Captives。　　He　feared　a
  repetition　of　the　riots　which　had　followed　the　apprehending　the
  Prioress　of　St。　Clare。　　He　contented　himself　with　stating　to　the
  Capuchins　the　guilt　of　their　Superior。　　To　avoid　the　shame　of　a
  public　accusation；　and　dreading　the　popular　fury　from　which　they
  had　already　saved　their　Abbey　with　much　difficulty；　the　Monks
  readily　permitted　the　Inquisitors　to　search　their　Mansion　without
  noise。　　No　fresh　discoveries　were　made。　　The　effects　found　in　the
  Abbot's　and　Matilda's　Cells　were　seized；　and　carried　to　the
  Inquisition　to　be　produced　in　evidence。　　Every　thing　else
  remained　in　its　former　position；　and　order　and　tranquillity　once
  more　prevailed　through　Madrid。
  St。　Clare's　Convent　was　completely　ruined　by　the　united　ravages
  of　the　Mob　and　conflagration。　　Nothing　remained　of　it　but　the
  principal　Walls；　whose　thickness　and　solidity　had　preserved　them
  from　the　flames。　　The　Nuns　who　had　belonged　to　it　were　obliged
  in　consequence　to　disperse　themselves　into　other　Societies：　　But
  the　prejudice　against　them　ran　high；　and　the　Superiors　were　very
  unwilling　to　admit　them。　　However；　most　of　them　being　related　to
  Families　the　most　distinguished　for　their　riches　birth　and　power；
  the　several　Convents　were　compelled　to　receive　them；　though　they
  did　it　with　a　very　ill　grace。　　This　prejudice　was　extremely　false
  and　unjustifiable：　　After　a　close　investigation；　it　was　proved
  that　All　in　the　Convent　were　persuaded　of　the　death　of　Agnes；
  except　the　four　Nuns　whom　St。　Ursula　had　pointed　out。　　These　had
  fallen　Victims　to　the　popular　fury；　as　had　also　several　who　were
  perfectly　innocent　and　unconscious　of　the　whole　affair。　　Blinded
  by　resentment；　the　Mob　had　sacrificed　every　Nun　who　fell　into
  their　hands：　They　who　escaped　were　entirely　indebted　to　the　Duke
  de　Medina's　prudence　and　moderation。　　Of　this　they　were
  conscious；　and　felt　for　that　Nobleman　a　proper　sense　of
  gratitude。
  Virginia　was　not　the　most　sparing　of　her　thanks：　　She　wished
  equally　to　make　a　proper　return　for　his　attentions；　and　to　obtain
  the　good　graces　of　Lorenzo's　Uncle。　In　this　She　easily　succeeded。
  The　Duke　beheld　her　beauty　with　wonder　and　admiration；　and　while
  his　eyes　were　enchanted　with　her　Form；　the　sweetness　of　her
  manners　and　her　tender　concern　for　the　suffering　Nun　prepossessed
  his　heart　in　her　favour。　　This　Virginia　had　discernment　enough　to
  perceive；　and　She　redoubled　her　attention　to　the　Invalid。　　When
  He　parted　from　her　at　the　door　of　her　Father's　Palace；　the　Duke