Lorenzo looked round him eagerly, and was on the point of yielding to the fears which already had possessed the women. Universal silence prevailed. He examined the vault, but nothing was to be seen. He now prepared to address the nuns, and ridicule their childish apprehensions, when his attention was arrested by a deep and long-drawn groan.

“What was that?” he cried, and started.

“There, señor!” said Helena; “Now you must be convinced! You have heard the noise yourself! Now judge, whether our terrors are imaginary. Since we have been here, that groaning has been repeated almost every five minutes. Doubtless, it proceeds from some soul in pain, who wishes to be prayed out of purgatory: but none of us here dares ask it the question. As for me, were I to see an apparition, the fright, I am very certain, would kill me out of hand.”