“You mistake my business,” replied Lorenzo; “I am no emissary of the cruel prioress. I pity your sorrows, and come hither to relieve them.”

“To relieve them?” repeated the captive; “Said you, to relieve them?”

At the same time starting from the ground, and supporting herself upon her hands, she gazed upon the stranger earnestly.

“Great God! It is no illusion! A man! Speak! Who are you? What brings you hither? Come you to save me, to restore me to liberty, to life and light? Oh! speak, speak quickly, lest I encourage an hope whose disappointment will destroy me.”