accompanied the worthy woman from the apartment, she
shuddered involuntarily as she passed the frame which was covered with
the black cloth, and which seemed ominous amidst the blaze of light that
filled the room.

CHAPTER X.

FRANCISCO, WAGNER AND NISIDA.

On the ensuing evening, Francisco, Count of Riverola, was seated in one
of the splendid saloons of his palace, pondering upon the strange
injunction which he had received from his deceased father, relative to
the mysterious closet, when Wagner was announced.

Francisco rose to receive him, saying in a cordial though melancholy
tone, "Signor, I expected you."

"And let me hasten to express the regret which I experienced at having
addressed your lordship coldly and haughtily last night," exclaimed
Wagner. "But, at the moment, I only beheld in you the son of him who had
dishonored a being very dear to my heart."

"I can well understand your feelings on that occasion, signor," replied
Francisco. "Alas! the sins of the fathers are too often visited upon the
children in this world. But, in whatever direction our present
conversation may turn, I implore you to spare as much as possible the
memory of my sire."

"Think not, my lord," said Wagner, "that I should be so ungenerous as to
reproach you for a deed in which you had no concern, and over which you
exercised no control. Nor should I inflict so deep an injury upon you,
as to speak in disrespectful terms of him who was the author of your
being, but who is now no more."

"Your kind language has already made me your friend," exclaimed
Francisco. "And now point out to me in what manner I can in any way
repair--or mitigate--the wrong done to that fair creature in whom you
express yourself interested."

"That young lady is my sister," said Wagner, emphatically.

"Your sister, signor! And yet, meseems, she recognized you not----"

"Long years have passed since we saw each other," interrupted Fernand;
"for we were separated in our childhood."

"And did you not both speak of some relative--an old man who once dwelt
on the confines of the Black Forest of Germany, but who is now in
Florence?" asked Francisco.

"Alas! that old man is no more," returned Wagner. "I did but use his
name to induce Agnes to place confidence in me, and allow me to withdraw
her from a scene which her wild grief so unpleasantly interrupted; for I
thought that were I then and there to announce myself as her brother,
she might not bel