Borzinski now arose, pulled off his boots, and though every step was made with difficulty, he ascended the stairs leading to the first story.  He went along the passage way until he came to a door leading into corridors where the cloister brethren lodged.  But the trembling fit came over him again, with indescribable anguish, as he sought to open the door with a key with which he had been furnished.  He soon rallied again, and, like a spectre, gliding by the doors of the brethren, who occupied the second and third corridors, many of whom had lights still burning, he came with his boots in one hand, and his bundle in the other, to a fourth passage way, in which was an outside window he was trying to reach.  The cord was soon fastened to the window frame, yet still in bitter apprehension; for this window was seldom opened, and opened hard, and with some noise.  It was also only two steps distant from the apartment of the cloister physician, where there was a light, and it was most likely that, on the first grating of the window, he would rush out and apprehend the fugitive.  However the window was opened without raising any alarm, and now it was necessary to see that no one was passing below; for though the spot is not very much frequented, yet the streets cross there, and people approach it from four different directions.  During these critical moments, one person and another kept passing, and poor Borzinski tarried shivering in the window for near a quarter of an hour before he ventured to let himself down.  While he was waiting his opportunity he heard the clock strike the third quarter after nine and knew that he had but fifteen minutes to reach the house where he was to conceal himself, which would be closed at ten.  When all was still, he called most fervently on the Saviour, and grasping the cord, slid down into the street.  He could scarce believe his feet were on the ground.  Trembling now with joy and gratitude rather than fear, he ran bareheaded to his place of refuge, where he received a glad welcome.  Having changed his garb, and tarried till three o’clock in the morning, he took leave of his friends and passing through the gloomy old capital of Bohemia, he reached the Portzitscher Gate, in order to pass out as early as possible.  Just then a police corporal let in a wagon, and Borzinski, passed out unchallenged.  It is needless to follow him further in his flight.  We have given enough, of his history to prove that conventual establishments are at this moment what they ever have been—­dangerous alike to liberty and life.  American and foreign Christian union.

In place of labored arguments we give the following history of personal suffering as strikingly illustrative of the spirit of Romanism at the present day.

APPENDIX VII

Narrative op signorina FLORIENCIA D’ Romani, A
native of the city of Naples.