, upon the strength of his absolute
prerogative, irrespective of law. The only person not outwardly
affected was the marchesa. The marchesa had said nothing since her
arrival, but there was a haughty alacrity of step and movement, as she
walked down the sala toward the door of her own apartment, that spoke
more than words.

No sooner had the sound of her closing door died away in the echoes of
the sala than Trenta, with forward bows both to Fra Pacifico and the
lawyer, requested permission to leave them, in order to visit Enrica.
Guglielmi and Fra Pacifico were now alone. Guglielmi gave a cautious
glance round, then walked up to the table, and poured out a tumbler
of wine, which he swallowed slowly. As he did so, he was engaged in
closely scrutinizing Fra Pacifico, who, full of anxiety as to what was
about to happen, stood lost in thought.

Maestro Guglielmi, whose age might be about forty, was a man, once
seen, not easily forgotten--a tall, slight man of quick subtile
movements, that betrayed the devouring activity within. Maestro
Guglielmi had a perfectly colorless face, a prominent, eager nose,
thin lips, that perpetually unclosed to a ghostly smile in which the
other features took no part; a brow already knitted with those fine
wrinkles indicative of constant study, and overhanging eyebrows that
framed a pair of eyes that read you like a book. It would have been a
bold man who, with those eyes fixed on him, would have told a lie to
Maestro Guglielmi, advocate in the High Court of Lucca. If any man had
so lied, those eyes would have gathered up the light, and flashed it
forth again in lightnings that might consume him. That they were dark
and flaming, and greatly dreaded by all on whom Guglielmi fixed them
in opposition, was generally admitted by his legal compeers.

"Reverend sir," began Maestro Guglielmi, blandly, stepping up to where
the priest stood a little apart, and speaking in a metallic voice
audible in any court of law, be it ever so closely packed--"it
gratifies me much that chance has so ordered it that we two are left
alone." Guglielmi took out his watch. "We have a good half-hour to
spare."

Fra Pacifico turned, and for the first time contemplated the lawyer
attentively. As he did so, he noted with surprise the power of his
eyes.

"I earnestly desire some conversation with you," continued Guglielmi,
the semblance of a smile flitting over his hard face. "Can we speak
here securely?" And the lawyer