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They had pursued for some time the way which they judged led to the monastery, when the note of the bell returned upon the wind, and discovered to them that they had mistaken their route. After much wandering and difficulty they arrived, overcome with weariness, at the gates of a large and gloomy fabric. The bell had ceased, and all was still. By the moonlight, which through broken clouds now streamed upon the building, they became convinced it was the monastery they had sought, and the duke himself struck loudly upon the gate., Was he to die, trapped like a rat? Was this the end of his adventure? It looked very much like it. But something would not let him give up. He would make one more attempt for his life and liberty., And all at once the truth smote him: he ought not to have done this; he had known all the time that he ought not, and yet—he had done it..