poor. He was away all summer at some pleasure, I suppose; now he is back again; yes, he is there; he is not alone, he is never alone; he is a gay gentleman, and handsome as a camellia-tree in carnival.'
Saturnino said nothing; he slid his hand within his clothes to feel his dagger-hilt.
Musa was not near enough to hear the woman's words. She saw him change the direction of his steps, and she saw a dark grand pile, with a vast doorway and Gothic statues of saints along its roof, that stood at the further end of a narrow piazza, great trees of the gardens behind it making a black cloud against the evening sky. Then for a moment her eyes grew dim, her brain grew dizzy; she felt that she was near Este.
And if she could not save him! if she had chosen a foolish, useless way! if she had erred when she had been afraid to strike her knife into his enemy's breast lest the blow should fail from any feebleness of her hand!
This was all she thought of; that her lover had forgotten her she never remembered; a great love is an unchanging pardon. Strained to the uttermost it will not fail or faint; it will endure all things.
She quickened her steps, and, trusting
