lity that had oppressed me
all the day.

When we reached my chamber she bade me change my dress again for
something dark and warm; for the night air was damp and chill. As I did
so I slipped within my bosom the roll of closely written pages
containing these annals of my prisonment. Then I asked for Barbara, and
Dona Orosia quietly replied,--

"She has gone upon an errand and will join us in due time." Then she
threw a mantle over my head, wrapped herself in another, and led me out
into the garden.

CHAPTER XIX.

It was a moonless night, and a haze of cloud obscured the stars. We
passed silently under the vine-covered arbour, across the garden, to the
gateway. Into the heavy lock Dona Orosia slipped a great key; it turned
easily, the door swung open, and we stepped out. Locking it once more,
my companion took my arm and hurried me along the dark, deserted street.
We turned a corner, came upon an open square, and paused beside a huge
palmetto that grew near the centre. I heard the crisp rustle of its
leaves in the night wind, and I shivered with a nameless dread.

Then, through the darkness, two dim forms approached us. My heart beat
quickly, and I drew the mantle closer round my face; but one of them
proved to be the friar, the other, my dear, dear Barbara. I sprang to
meet her with a quick cry; but Dona Orosia laid a hand upon my lips and
hurried me on. Padre Felipe now led the way, and we followed him for
some moments more until he paused before a low doorway and motioned us
to enter.

"Senora," I whispered, "why do you come? I have no fear of the disease,
but why should you needlessly expose yourself?"

"Little fool," she answered, pushing me gently on, "there is no fever,
no contagion here."

Wondering still, I entered the narrow passage, and beyond it a dimly
lighted room.

On the floor lay a long wooden stretcher covered with hide; at its foot
and head, fixed each in a rude socket, were two candles, still
unlighted. A brass pot with long chains, and a heap of dark cloth, lay
upon the floor; there was also a rough table on which stood a bottle of
water and a loaf of bread; otherwise, except for a dim lamp upon the
wall, the room was empty. Dona Orosia looked around, with quick eyes
taking in every detail; then she turned to Padre Felipe.

"Can you trust the bearers?"

He bowed his head.

"Then the only difficulty is this old woman. Better to leave her
behind."

But again I pleaded most ear