The effect will be throwing her into strong convulsions for an hour: after which her blood will gradually cease to flow, and heart to beat; a mortal paleness will spread itself over her features, and she will appear a corse to every eye. She has no friends about her: you may charge yourself unsuspected with the superintendence of her funeral, and cause her to be buried in the vaults of

St. Clare. Their solitude and easy access render these caverns favourable to your designs. Give Antonia the soporific draught this evening: eight and forty hours after she has drank it, life will revive to her bosom. She will then be absolutely in your power: she will find all resistance unavailing, and necessity will compel her to receive you in her arms.”

“Antonia will be in my power!” exclaimed the monk; “Matilda, you transport me! At length then, happiness will be mine, and that happiness will be Matilda’s gift, will be the gift of friendship! I shall clasp Antonia in my arms, far from every prying eye, from every tormenting intruder! I shall sigh out my soul upon her bosom; shall teach her young heart the first rudiments of pleasure, and revel uncontrouled in the endless variety of her charms! And shall this delight indeed by mine? Shall I give the reins to my desires, and gratify every wild tumultuous wish? Oh! Matilda, how can I express to you my gratitude?”