rence of that People
of whom He was then the Idol. Conscience painted to him in glaring
colours his perjury and weakness; Apprehension magnified to him the
horrors of punishment, and He already fancied himself in the prisons of
the Inquisition. To these tormenting ideas succeeded Matilda's beauty,
and those delicious lessons which, once learnt, can never be forgotten.
A single glance thrown upon these reconciled him with himself. He
considered the pleasures of the former night to have been purchased at
an easy price by the sacrifice of innocence and honour. Their very
remembrance filled his soul with ecstacy; He cursed his foolish vanity,
which had induced him to waste in obscurity the bloom of life, ignorant
of the blessings of Love and Woman. He determined at all events to
continue his commerce with Matilda, and called every argument to his
aid which might confirm his resolution. He asked himself, provided his
irregularity was unknown, in what would his fault consist, and what
consequences He had to apprehend? By adhering strictly to every rule
of his order save Chastity, He doubted not to retain the esteem of Men,
and even the protection of heaven. He trusted easily to be forgiven so
slight and natural a deviation from his vows: But He forgot that
having pronounced those vows, Incontinence, in Laymen the most venial
of errors, became in his person the most heinous of crimes.

Once decided upon his future conduct, his mind became more easy. He
threw himself upon his bed, and strove by sleeping to recruit his
strength exhausted by his nocturnal excesses. He awoke refreshed, and
eager for a repetition of his pleasures. Obedient to Matilda's order,
He visited not her Cell during the day. Father Pablos mentioned in the
Refectory that Rosario had at length been prevailed upon to follow his
prescription; But that the medicine had not produced the slightest
effect, and that He believed no mortal skill could rescue him from the
Grave. With this opinion the Abbot agreed, and affected to lament the
untimely fate of a Youth, whose talents had appeared so promising.

The night arrived. Ambrosio had taken care to procure from the Porter
the Key of the low door opening into the Cemetery. Furnished with this,
when all was silent in the Monastery, He quitted his Cell, and hastened
to Matilda's. She had left her bed, and was drest before his arrival.

'I have been expecting you with impatience,' said She; 'My life depend