exclaim,

'God! Oh! God! No hope! No succour!'

Yet deeper groans followed these words. They died away gradually, and
universal silence again prevailed.

'What can this mean?' thought the bewildered Monk.

At that moment an idea which flashed into his mind, almost petrified
him with horror. He started, and shuddered at himself.

'Should it be possible!' He groaned involuntarily; 'Should it but be
possible, Oh! what a Monster am I!'

He wished to resolve his doubts, and to repair his fault, if it were
not too late already: But these generous and compassionate sentiments
were soon put to flight by the return of Matilda. He forgot the
groaning Sufferer, and remembered nothing but the danger and
embarrassment of his own situation. The light of the returning Lamp
gilded the walls, and in a few moments after Matilda stood beside him.
She had quitted her religious habit: She was now cloathed in a long
sable Robe, on which was traced in gold embroidery a variety of unknown
characters: It was fastened by a girdle of precious stones, in which
was fixed a poignard. Her neck and arms were uncovered. In her hand
She bore a golden wand. Her hair was loose and flowed wildly upon her
shoulders; Her eyes sparkled with terrific expression; and her whole
Demeanour was calculated to inspire the beholder with awe and
admiration.

'Follow me!' She said to the Monk in a low and solemn voice; 'All is
ready!'

His limbs trembled, while He obeyed her. She led him through various
narrow passages; and on every side as they past along, the beams of the
Lamp displayed none but the most revolting objects; Skulls, Bones,
Graves, and Images whose eyes seemed to glare on them with horror and
surprize. At length they reached a spacious Cavern, whose lofty roof
the eye sought in vain to discover. A profound obscurity hovered
through the void. Damp vapours struck cold to the Friar's heart; and
He listened sadly to the blast while it howled along the lonely Vaults.
Here Matilda stopped. She turned to Ambrosio. His cheeks and lips
were pale with apprehension. By a glance of mingled scorn and anger
She reproved his pusillanimity, but She spoke not. She placed the Lamp
upon the ground, near the Basket. She motioned that Ambrosio should be
silent, and began the mysterious rites. She drew a circle round him,
another round herself, and then taking a small Phial from the Basket,
poured a few drops upon the ground before her. She be