In consequence of this avowal, his sentence was immediately pronounced. He was ordered to prepare himself to perish in the auto da fé, which was to be solemnized at twelve o’clock that night. This hour was chosen from the idea that the horror of the flames being heightened by the gloom of midnight, the execution would have a greater effect upon the mind of the people.

Ambrosio rather dead than alive was left alone in his dungeon. The moment in which this terrible decree was pronounced had nearly proved that of his dissolution. He looked forward to the morrow with despair, and his terrors increased with the approach of midnight. Sometimes he was buried in gloomy silence: at others he raved with delirious passion, wrung his hands, and cursed the hour when he first beheld the light. In one of these moments his eye rested upon Matilda’s mysterious gift. His transports of rage were instantly suspended. He looked earnestly at the book; he took it up, but immediately threw it from him with horror. He walked rapidly up and down his dungeon: then stopped, and again fixed his eyes on the spot where the book had fallen. He reflected that here at least was a resource from the fate which he dreaded. He stooped, and took it up a second time.