o quit them without
permission, she began to tremble at the possible violence of an
ill-regulated mind. She endeavoured to interest her attendant in her
behalf; but the matron was too well schooled to evince any feeling
or express any opinion on the subject; and indeed, at length, fairly
informed Iduna that she was commanded to confine her conversation to the
duties of her office.

The Lady Iduna was very unhappy. She thought of her father, she thought
of Iskander. The past seemed a dream; she was often tempted to believe
that she was still, and had ever been, a prisoner in the Serail of
Adrianople; and that all the late wonderful incidents of her life were
but the shifting scenes of some wild slumber. And then some slight
incident, the sound of a bell or the sign of some holy emblem, assured
her she was in a Christian land, and convinced her of the strange truth
that she was indeed in captivity, and a prisoner, above all others,
to the fond companion of her youth. Her indignation at the conduct of
Nicaeus roused her courage; she resolved to make an effort to escape.
Her rooms were only lighted from above; she determined to steal forth at
night into the gallery; the door was secured. She hastened back to her
chamber in fear and sorrow, and wept.

Twice in the course of the day the stern and silent matron visited Iduna
with her food; and as she retired, secured the door. This was the only
individual that the imprisoned lady ever beheld. And thus heavily rolled
on upwards of a week. On the eve of the ninth day, Iduna was surprised
by the matron presenting her a letter as she quitted the chamber for
the night. Iduna seized it with a feeling of curiosity not unmixed
with pleasure. It was the only incident that had occurred during her
captivity. She recognised the hand-writing of Nicaeus, and threw it down
with; vexation at her silliness in supposing, for a moment, that the
matron could have been the emissary of any other person.

Yet the letter must be read, and at length she opened it. It informed
her that a ship had arrived from Athens at the coast, and that to-morrow
she must depart for Italy. It told her also, that the Turks, under
Mahomed, had invaded Albania; and that the Hungarians, under the
command of her father, had come to support the Cross. It said nothing of
Iskander. But it reminded her that little more than the same time that
would carry her to the coast to embark for a foreign land, would, were
she wise,