gloom, whose only goal might be the grave. She, too, felt something of that dreamy sorcery which lies in the one word—"together."
Nearing them came the clamour of the shrill Italian voices; behind them, from the cell where Giulio Villaflor was stretched senseless, the shouts of those who found their lord lie dying as they deemed, rang the alarm through the whole monastery, till the stones echoed with the outcry. From the stillness of slumber and the drowsy monotone of prayer, the whole silence teemed with noise and tumult; the whole building was alive with men, who started from their first stupor of sleep in vague terror and senseless excitation, while above all thundered the roll of the hound's bay, attacked at his post and giving challenge to his menacers.
"If he can guard the gates, we are free!"
The cry broke from her with the agony of a prayer as they pressed on into the great hall, where the single swinging entrance lamp burned dully through night and day. Hope almost died in him as he saw the crowd of monks that filled it, while before the unbarred door the dog couched like a lion ready to spring, with his mane erect, and his eye-balls red with fire, and his mighty teeth gleaming white under his black-bearded muzzle, holding
