such deadly peril, it will be noble, gracious, if you can prove his salvation, his guardian angel!"
Donna Lucretia smiled, and her features were flushed with enthusiasm.
"It will, it will," she murmured. "Show me the way!" and, again kissing her companion, she seated herself lovingly by his side.
"You will understand that this is not my work," and he drew forth the warrant. "You will not think that I have been plotting against so noble and worthy a man as Mercado? It is the work of the cardinals."
"I understand; but the way to save him—show me the way."
"Which I will do, if you will but listen to my story. Many years ago, a young Spanish nobleman,—or rather a priest,—who had then been several years in Rome, fell violently in love with a noble Italian lady, who was a widow, and the mother of one child, a daughter. He loved her with a fondness and devotion that amounted to adoration; but, strange to say, the lady did not return his passion. To the contrary, she repulsed his advances, and bade him bestow his love where it would meet with a return. Still he pressed his suit; and there is no knowing how it would have ended, had not the lady suddenly died"
"I have heard something like this before," interrupted Donna Lucretia, much agitated; "but go on. The lady died"
"And the child was adopted by the priest, who reared her as tenderly as father ever reared a daughter. He saw her budding into girlhood, and felt that her love and artless words of endearment repaid him for all his trouble,
