gerly drunk in every word the count had uttered. He
seemed to speak the language of her secret musings; to interpret the
hidden mysteries of her young heart. She, at least, believed in the
affinity of kindred spirits. What but that had linked her to Nobili?
Oh, to live in such a union!

Trenta had become very grave.

"You are a visionary," he said, addressing the count, who now stood
beside them. "I am sorry for you. Such a consummation as you desire
is impossible. Your faith has no foundation. It is a creation of the
brain. The Catholic Church stands upon a rock. It permits no change,
it accepts no compromise, it admits no errors. The authority given to
St. Peter by Jesus Christ himself, with the spiritual keys, can alone
open the gates of heaven. All without are damned. Good intentions
are nothing. Private interpretation, believe me, is of the devil.
Obedience to the Holy Father, and the intercession of the saints, can
alone save your soul. Submit yourself to the teaching of our mother
Church, my dear count. Submit yourself--you have my prayers." Trenta
watched Marescotti with a fixed gaze of such solemn earnestness, it
seemed as though he anticipated that the blessed San Frediano himself
might appear, and then and there miraculously convert him. "Submit
yourself," he repeated, raising his arm and pointing to the altar,
"then you will be blessed."

No miraculous interposition, however, was destined to crown the poor
cavaliere's strenuous efforts to convert the heretical count; but,
long before he had finished, the sound of his voice had recalled
Count Marescotti to himself. He remembered that the old chamberlain
belonged, in years at least, if not in belief, to the past. He blamed
himself for his thoughtlessness in having said a syllable that could
give him pain. The mystic disciple of Savonarola became in an instant
the polished gentleman.

"A thousand pardons, my dear Trenta," he said, passing his hand over
his forehead, and putting back the dark, disordered hair that hung
upon his brow--"a thousand pardons!--I am quite ashamed of myself. We
are here, as I now remember, to examine the tombs of your ancestors
in the chapel of the Trenta. I have delayed you too long. Shall we
proceed?"

Trenta, glad to escape from the possibility of any further discussion
with the count, whose religious views were to him nothing but the
ravings of a mischievous maniac, at once turned into the side-aisle,
and, with ceremonious p