roken in upon and dominated by the wild, terrific cry of
"Fire! fire!"

"Oh! wherefore have I tarried here so long?" exclaimed the marquis; and
he was about to return to the chamber of penitence, when a sudden blaze
of light appeared at the mouth of the pit, thirty yards above. Looking
hastily up, he beheld the flames rolling over the entrance of that well
at the bottom of which he stood; and, in another minute, the forked fire
burst from the sides, forcing for itself a way through the wooden walls;
and the old dry timber and planks yielded to the devouring element as if
they had been steeped in oil.

But while the marquis was still standing at the bottom looking up the
pit, the clash of weapons, the tread of many steps, and the
vociferations of combatants appeared to grow nearer; then in another
moment he became aware that the hostile sounds came down the well, and
proceeded from the room far above, where the fire as well as the war was
raging.

Manuel had again turned around to hurry back to the chamber of
penitence, when a loud cry of despair came vibrating down, and in
another instant the heavy form of a man was precipitated into the well.
The wicker chair fortunately broke his fall, and he rose with a dreadful
imprecation.

"Piero!" cried the marquis.

"Ah! my lord, is it you?" said the bandit faintly, as he staggered back
and fell heavily on the floor. "This is a bad business--the sbirri were
alarmed, and broke in--Lomellino has got away, but the rest who were
with me are slain----"

"And you are wounded, Piero," ejaculated the marquis, rushing forward to
assist the bandit, from whose breast he now perceived the blood to be
flowing.

"Never mind me, my lord!" said Piero faintly. "Haste and tell Verrina
that--our men fought well--it was not their fault--nor mine--the nuns
must have given--the--alarm----"

His voice had grown fainter as he spoke: and, while the marquis was
endeavoring to raise him, he fell back again, and expired with the name
of Carlotta upon his tongue.

The combat had ceased above, but the flames had increased in the well to
such an extent that the marquis was compelled to beat a rapid retreat
toward the chamber of penitence, whither the old sextoness had already
fled. At the entrance of that apartment he met Stephano, who, alarmed by
the clashing of arms and the cries of "fire" that had reached his ears,
and which seemed to come from the direction of the passage, was hurrying
thithe