desires were worked up to phrenzy。
'I yield！' He cried； dashing the mirror upon the ground：
'Matilda； I follow you！ Do with me what you will！'
She waited not to hear his consent repeated。 It was already
midnight。 She flew to her Cell； and soon returned with her
little basket and the Key of the Cemetery； which had remained in
her possession since her first visit to the Vaults。 She gave the
Monk no time for reflection。
'Come！' She said； and took his hand； 'Follow me； and witness the
effects of your resolve！'
This said； She drew him hastily along。 They passed into the
Burying…ground unobserved； opened the door of the Sepulchre； and
found themselves at the head of the subterraneous Staircase。 As
yet the beams of the full Moon had guided their steps； but that
resource now failed them。 Matilda had neglected to provide
herself with a Lamp。 Still holding Ambrosio's hand She descended
the marble steps； But the profound obscurity with which they were
overspread obliged them to walk slow and cautiously。
'You tremble！' said Matilda to her Companion； 'Fear not； The
destined spot is near。'
They reached the foot of the Staircase； and continued to
proceed； feeling their way along the Walls。 On turning a corner
suddenly； they descried faint gleams of light which seemed
burning at a distance。 Thither they bent their steps： The rays
proceeded from a small sepulchral Lamp which flamed unceasingly
before the Statue of St。 Clare。 It tinged with dim and cheerless
beams the massy Columns which supported the Roof； but was too
feeble to dissipate the thick gloom in which the Vaults above
were buried。
Matilda took the Lamp。
'Wait for me！' said She to the Friar； 'In a few moments I am here
again。'
With these words She hastened into one of the passages which
branched in various directions from this spot； and formed a sort
of Labyrinth。 Ambrosio was now left alone： Darkness the most
profound surrounded him； and encouraged the doubts which began
to revive in his bosom。 He had been hurried away by the delirium
of the moment： The shame of betraying his terrors； while in
Matilda's presence； had induced him to repress them； But now that
he was abandoned to himself； they resumed their former
ascendancy。 He trembled at the scene which He was soon to
witness。 He knew not how far the delusions of Magic might
operate upon his mind； and possibly might force him to some deed
whose commission would make the breach between himself and Heaven
irreparable。 In this fearful dilemma； He would have implored
God's assistance； but was conscious that He had forfeited all
claim to such protection。 Gladly would He have returned to the
Abbey； But as He had past through innumerable Caverns and winding
passages； the attempt of regaining the Stairs was hopeless。 His
fate was determined： No possibility of escape presented itself：
He therefore combated his apprehensions； and called every
argument to his succour； which might enable him to support the
trying scene with fortitude。 He reflected that Antonia would be
the reward of his daring： He inflamed his imagination by
enumerating her charms。 He persuaded himself that （as Matilda
had observed）； He always should have time sufficient for
repentance； and that as He employed HER assistance； not that of
the Daemons； the crime of Sorcery could not be laid to his
charge。 He had read much respecting witchcraft： He understood
that unless a formal Act was signed renouncing his claim to
salvation； Satan would have no power over him。 He was fully
determined not to execute any such act； whatever threats might be
used； or advantages held out to him。
Such were his meditations while waiting for Matilda。 They were
interrupted by a low murmur which seemed at no great distance
from him。 He was startled。 He listened。 Some minutes past in
silence； after which the murmur was repeated。 It appeared to be
the groaning of one in pain。 In any other situation； this
circumstance would only have excited his attention and curiosity：
In the present； his predominant sensation was that of terror。 His
imagination totally engrossed by the ideas of sorcery and
Spirits； He fancied that some unquiet Ghost was wandering near
him； or else that Matilda had fallen a Victim to her presumption；
and was perishing under the cruel fangs of the Daemons。 The
noise seemed not to approach； but continued to be heard at
intervals。 Sometimes it became more audible； doubtless as the
sufferings of the person who uttered the groans became
more acute and insupportable。 Ambrosio now and then thought
that He could distinguish accents； and once in particular He was
almost convinced that He heard a faint voice 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 bent over the place； muttered some
indistinct sentences； and immediately a pale sulphurous flame
arose from the ground。 It increased by degrees； and at length
spread its waves over the whole surface； the circles alone
excepted in which stood Matilda and the Monk。 It then ascended
the huge Columns of unhewn stone； glided along the roof； and
formed the Cavern into an immense chamber totally covered with
blue trembling fire。 It emitted no heat： On the contrary； the
extreme chillness of the place seemed to augment with every
moment。 Matilda continued her incantations： At intervals She
took various articles from the Basket； the nature and name of
most of which were unknown to the Friar： But among the few which
He distinguished； He particularly observed three human fingers；
and an Agnus Dei which She broke in pieces。 She threw them all
into the flames which burned before her； and they were instantly
consumed。
The Monk beheld her with anxious curiosity。 Suddenly She uttered
a loud and piercing shriek。 She appeared to be seized with an
access of delirium； She tore her hair； beat her bosom； used the
most frantic gestures； and drawing the poignard from her girdle
plunged it into her left arm。 The blood gushed out plentifully；
and as She stood on the brink of the circle； She took care that
it should fall on the outside。 The flames retired from the spot
on which the blood was pouring。 A volume of dark clouds rose
slowly from the ensanguined earth； and ascended gradually； till
it reached the vault of the Cavern。 At the same time a clap of
thunder was heard： The echo pealed fearfully along the
subterraneous passages； and the ground shook beneath the feet of
the Enchantress。
It was now that Ambrosio repented of his rashness。 The solemn
singularity of the charm had prepared him for something strange
and horrible。 He waited with fear for the Spirit's appearance；
whose coming was announced by thunder and earthquakes。 He looked
wildly round him； expecting that some dreadful Apparit