amed with unearthly luster; then, bending
forward, he whispered a few words in the other's ear.

Wagner started with a cold and fearful shudder as if at some appalling
announcement; but he uttered not a word of reply--for his master
beckoned him imperiously away from the humble cottage.

CHAPTER I.

THE DEATH-BED--THE OATH--THE LAST INJUNCTIONS.

Our tale commences in the middle of the month of November, 1520, and at
the hour of midnight.

In a magnificently furnished chamber, belonging to one of the largest
mansions of Florence, a nobleman lay at the point of death.

The light of the lamp suspended to the ceiling played upon the ghastly
countenance of the dying man, the stern expression of whose features was
not even mitigated by the fears and uncertainties attendant on the hour
of dissolution.

He was about forty-eight years of age, and had evidently been wondrously
handsome in his youth: for though the frightful pallor of death was
already upon his cheeks, and the fire of his large black eyes was dimmed
with the ravages of a long-endured disease, still the faultless outlines
of the aquiline profile remained unimpaired.

The most superficial observer might have read the aristocratic pride of
his soul in the haughty curl of his short upper lip,--the harshness of
his domineering character in the lines that marked his forehead,--and
the cruel sternness of his disposition in the expression of his entire
countenance.

Without absolutely scowling as he lay on that bed of death, his features
were characterized by an inexorable severity which seemed to denote the
predominant influence of some intense passion--some evil sentiment
deeply rooted in his mind.

Two persons leant over the couch to which death was so rapidly
approaching.

One was a lady of about twenty-five: the other was a youth of nineteen.

The former was eminently beautiful; but her countenance was marked with
much of that severity--that determination--and even of that sternness,
which characterized the dying nobleman. Indeed, a single glance was
sufficient to show that they stood in the close relationship of father
and daughter.

Her long, black, glossy hair now hung disheveled over the shoulders that
were left partially bare by the hasty negligence with which she had
thrown on a loose wrapper; and those shoulders were of the most dazzling
whiteness.

The wrapper was confined by a broad band at the waist; and the slight
drapery set of