atched her anxiously from the foot of the bed.

"I'm afraid it is a 'perniciosa,'" he said. "Put her to bed while I call
a regular doctor."

Regina looked up at him.

"I have fever, have I not?" she asked quite quietly.

"Yes. You have a little fever," he answered, but his big brown eyes were
very grave.

When Marcello came, an hour later, she did not know him. She stared at
him with wide, unwinking eyes, and there were bright patches of colour
in her cheeks. Already there were hollows in them, too, and at her
temples, for the perniciosa fever is frightfully quick to waste the
body. In the Campagna, where it is worst, men have died of it in less
than four hours after first feeling it upon them. Great men have
discovered wonderful remedies for it, but still it kills.

Kalmon got one of the great men, who was his friend, and they did what
they could. A nursing sister came and was installed. Marcello was
summoned away soon after noon by an official person, who brought a
carriage and said that Corbario was now conscious and able to speak, and
that it was absolutely necessary that Marcello should be confronted
with him, as he might not live another day. It was easier to go than it
would have been if Regina had been conscious, but even so it was very
hard. The nun and Teresa stayed with her.

[Illustration: "SHE SAT THERE LIKE A FIGURE OF GRIEF OUTLINED IN BLACK
AGAINST THE MOONLIGHT ON THE GREAT WALL."]

She said little in her delirium, and nothing that had any meaning for
either of the women. Twice she tried to tear away the linen and lace
from her throat.

"I wait!" she cried each time, and her eyes fixed themselves on the
ceiling, while she held her breath.

The women could not tell what she was waiting for, and they soothed her
as best they could. She seemed to doze after that, and when Marcello
came back she knew him, and took his hand. He sent away the nurses and
sat by the bedside, and she spoke to him in short sentences, faintly. He
bent forward, near the pillow, to catch the words.

She was telling him what she had done last night.

"But you promised that I should find you here to-day!" Marcello said,
with gentle reproach.

"Yes. I did not mean to break my word. But I thought he would do it. It
seemed so easy."

Her voice was weak with the fever, and sank almost to a whisper. He
stroked her hand affectionately, hoping that she would go to sleep; and
so a long time passed. Then Kalmon came in with h