My dear mother was now as pale as death, and silent, for she saw that the priest was awfully enraged; for, although he feigned to smile, his smile was similar to that of the hyena when digging his prey out of the grave.  The priest’s dark and villainous visage had the effect of confirming in my mother’s mind all the truth regarding the plot to enslave me for life, and secure all my father’s estate to the pockets of the priests.  The confessor was now terribly mad, for two obvious reasons:  one was because he was not received by us with our usual cordiality and blind affection; the other, because, by the king’s pardon, I was not under the necessity to sacrifice my liberty and happiness for life to save my father from prison; and what tormented him the most was, that he believed that I, though young, could understand and thwart his hellish plans.  As my mother trembled and was silent, fearing the priest was cursing her and her only daughter in his heart,—­for the priests tell such awful stories about the effects of a priest’s curse that the great mass of the Italian people fear it more than the plague or any earthly misfortune.

The popish priests declare that St. Peter is the doorkeeper of the great city of God, the heavenly Jerusalem, that he has the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and has received strict orders not to admit any soul, under any circumstances, who has been cursed by a holy priest, unless that curse has been removed by the same priest in the tribunal of penance.  I was obliged to speak to his reverence, and I felt so free, so happy in Christ as my only hope, that I opened my mind to the priest very freely, and told him what I thought of him and his plot.  “Sir priest,” said I, “I shall never return to the convent to stay long.  As soon as the time for my education ends, I shall return to liberty and domestic life.  I am not made of the proper material to make a nun of.  I love the social domestic circle; I love my father and mother, and all our domestics, even the dogs and the cats, pigeons, and canaries, the fish-ponds, play-grounds, gardens, rivers, and landscapes, mountain and ocean,—­all the works of God I love.  I shall live out of the convent to enjoy these things; therefore, reverend sir, if you value my peace and good-will, never speak to me or my parents on the subject of my becoming a nun in any convent.  I shall prefer death to the loss of my personal liberty.”

I was so decided, and had received such strength and grace from heaven, that the priest was dumbfounded,—­my smooth stone out of the sling had hit him in the right place.  After much effort to appear bland and good-natured, he drew near my chair, seized my hand, and said, “My dear daughter, you mistake me.  I love you as a daughter, I wish only your happiness.  Your god-father, the holy Bishop, does not intend that you shall remain a common nun more than a year.  After the first year you shall be raised to the highest dignity in the convent.  You shall be the Lady Superior, and all the nuns shall bow at your feet, and implicitly obey your commands.