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in the arms of one more fortunate. He shuddered at the void which her absence would leave in his bosom; he looked with disgust on the monotony of a convent, and breathed a sigh towards that world from which he was for ever separated. Such were the reflections which a loud knocking at his door interrupted. The bell of the church had already struck two. The abbot hastened to enquire the cause of this disturbance. He opened the door of his cell, and a lay-brother entered, whose looks declared his hurry and confusion.
"Hasten, reverend father!" said he, "hasten to the young Rosario: he earnestly requests to see you; he lies at the point of death."
"Gracious God! where is father Pablos? Why is he not with him? Oh! I fear, I fear———"
"Father Pablos has seen him, but his art can do nothing. He says that he suspects the youth to be poisoned."
"Poisoned? Oh! the unfortunate! It isthen
