elf, her existence became unbearable: and after three
months she requested Father Mathias would find her some other place of
refuge; telling him frankly that her residence in that place was not
very likely to assist her conversion to the tenets of his faith.
Father Mathias fully comprehended her, but replied, "I have no means."

"Here are means," replied Amine, taking the diamond ring from her
finger: "this is worth eight hundred ducats in our country; here I
know not how much."

Father Mathias took the ring. "I will call upon you to-morrow morning,
and let you know what I have done. I shall acquaint the lady abbess
that you are going to your husband, for it would not be safe to let
her suppose that you have reasons for quitting the convent. I have
heard what you state mentioned before, but have treated it as scandal;
but you, I know, are incapable of falsehood."

The next day Father Mathias returned, and had an interview with the
abbess, who after a time sent for Amine, and told her that it was
necessary that she should leave the convent. She consoled her as well
as she could at leaving such a happy place, sent for some sweetmeats
to make the parting less trying, gave her her blessing, and made her
over to Father Mathias; who, when they were alone, informed Amine that
he had disposed of the ring for eighteen hundred dollars, and had
procured apartments for her in the house of a widow lady, with whom
she was to board.

Taking leave of the nuns, Amine quitted the convent with Father
Mathias, and was soon installed in her new apartments, in a house
which formed part of a spacious square called the Terra di Sabaio.
After the introduction to her hostess, Father Mathias left her. Amine
found her apartments fronting the square, airy and commodious. The
landlady, who had escorted her to view them, not having left her, she
inquired "what large church that was on the other side of the square?"

"It is the Ascension," replied the lady; "the music is very fine
there; we will go and hear it to-morrow, if you please."

"And that massive building in face of us?"

"That is the Holy Inquisition," said the widow, crossing herself.

Amine again started, she knew not why. "Is that your child?" said
Amine, as a boy of about twelve years old entered the room.

"Yes," replied the widow, "the only one that is left me. May God
preserve him." The boy was handsome and intelligent, and Amine, for
her own reasons, did everything she coul