“Without reserve or subterfuge? Without future appeal to the divine mercy?”

The last chain fell from the door of the prison: the key was heard turning in the lock: already the iron door grated heavily upon its rusty hinges.

“I am yours forever and irrevocably!” cried the monk wild with terror: “I abandon all claim to salvation! I own no power but yours! Hark! Hark! They come! Oh! save me! Bear me away!”

“I have triumphed! You are mine past reprieve, and I fulfil my promise.”

While he spoke, the door unclosed. Instantly the daemon grasped one of Ambrosio’s arms, spread his broad pinions, and sprang with him into the air. The roof opened as they soared upwards, and closed again when they had quitted the dungeon.