“All is ready for your escape, my dearest Agnes. At twelve tomorrow night I shall expect to find you at the garden door: I have obtained the key, and a few hours will suffice to place you in a secure asylum. Let no mistaken scruples induce you to reject the certain means of preserving yourself and the innocent creature whom you nourish in your bosom. Remember that you had promised to be mine, long ere you engaged yourself to the church; that your situation will soon be evident to the prying eyes of your companions; and that flight is the only means of avoiding the effects of their malevolent resentment. Farewell, my Agnes! my dear and destined wife! Fail not to be at the garden door at twelve!”

As soon as he had finished, Ambrosio bent an eye stern and angry upon the imprudent nun.

“This letter must to the prioress!” said he, and passed her.

His words sounded like thunder to her ears: she awoke from her torpidity only to be sensible of the dangers of her situation. She followed him hastily, and detained him by his garment.