A friend would not have kept my dreadful punishment a secret; neither did it seem probable that an enemy would have taken pains to supply me with the means of existence. Upon the whole I was inclined to think that the domina’s designs upon my life had been discovered by some one of my partisans in the convent, who had found means to substitute an opiate for poison: that she had furnished me with food to support me, till she could effect my delivery: and that she was then employed in giving intelligence to my relations of my danger, and pointing out a way to release me from captivity. Yet why then was the quality of my provisions so coarse? How could my friend have entered the vault without the domina’s knowledge? And if she had entered, why was the door fastened so carefully? These reflections staggered me: yet still this idea was the most favourable to my hopes, and I dwelt upon it in preference.