tolled ten as the carriage slowly ascended a steep which rose before it.
"But how do you suppose, my Matilda," said Verezzi, "that it will be possible for us to evade the scrutiny of the inquisition?"
"Oh!" returned Matilda, "we must not appear in our true characters—we must disguise them."
"But," inquired Verezzi, "what crime do you suppose the inquisition to allege against you?"
"Heresy, I suppose," said Matilda. "You know an enemy has nothing to do but lay an accusation of heresy against any unfortunate and innocent individual, and the victim expires in horrible tortures, or lingers the wretched remnant of his life in dark and solitary cells."
A convulsive sigh heaved Verezzi's bosom.
"And is that then to be my Matilda's destiny?" he exclaimed in horror. "No—Heaven will never permit such excellence to suffer."
Meanwhile they had arrived at the Brenta. The Brenta's stream glided silently beneath the midnight breeze towards the Adriatic.
Towering poplars, which loftily raised their spiral forms on its bank, cast a gloomier shade upon the placid wave.
Matilda and Verezzi entered a gondola, and the grey tints of approaching morn had streaked the eastern ether, before they entered the Grand Canal at Venice; and passing the Rialto, proceeded onwards to a small, though not inelegant mansion, in the eastern suburbs.
Everything here, though not grand, was commodious; and as they entered it, Verezzi expressed his approbation of living here retired.
Seemingly secure from the scrutiny of the inquisition, Matilda and Verezzi passed some days of uninterrupted happiness.
At last, one evening, Verezzi, tired even with mono-
