As resistance was worse than useless, I complied, and soon found my poor feet aching with the cold on the bare stone floor.  I was soon made to feel the blessing of St. Francis with a vengeance.  My sufferings were indescribable.  It seemed as though ten thousand bees had stung me in every part.  I never closed my eyes for several nights.  I laid on my coarse straw and groaned and sighed for death to come and relieve me of my anguish.  As soon as the holy wax candle was left with me I took it in my hand and went forth to survey my dungeon; but I did not enjoy my ramble.  In one of the cells, I found my Tuscan friend—­that dear Christian sister—­in great agony, having had on the accursed garment for several days.  Her body was one entire blister, and very much inflamed.  Her bones were racked with pain, as with the most excruciating inflammatory rheumatism.  We recognized each other; she pointed to heaven as if to say ’trust in the Lord, my sister, our sufferings will soon be over.’  I kissed my hand to her and returned again to my cell.  I saw other victims half dead and emaciated that made my heart sick.  I refrained from speaking to any one for I feared my condition, wretched as it was, might be rendered even worse, if possible by the fiends who had entire power over me.  “O my God!” said I to myself, “why was I born?  O give my soul patience to suffer every pain.”

On the fourth day of my imprisonment the jailor brought me some water and soap, a towel, brush and comb, and the same clothes I wore when I entered the foul den.  They told me to make haste and prepare myself to appear before the holy Bishop.  Hope revived in my soul, for I always thought that my god-father had some regard for me, and had now come to release me from the foul den I was in.  Cold water seemed to afford much relief to my tortured body.  I made my toilet as quick as I could in such a place.  My feet were so numb and swollen that it was difficult for me to get my shoes on.  At last the Bishop arrived as I supposed, and I was conducted—­not into his presence as I expected, but into that of my bitterest enemy, the confessor.  At the very sight of the monster, I trembled like a reed shaken by the wind.  The priest walked to each of the doors, locked them, put the keys into a small writing desk, locked it, took out the key and placed it carefully in his sleeve pocket.  This he did to assure me that we were alone, that not one of the inmates could by any means disturb for the present the holy meditations of the priest.  He bade me take a seat on the sofa by him.  In kind soft words he said to me, that if I was only docile and obedient, he would cause me to be treated like a princess, and that in a short time I should have my liberty if I preferred to return to the world.  At the same time he attempted to put his arm around my waist.  In a moment I was on my feet.  While he was talking love to me, I was looking at two large alabaster vases full of beautiful wax flowers; one of them was as much as