unted and reproached him, and her shadowy figure rose before him with
the thin white face in which he could still trace the beauty that had
once enthralled him. It was the bare woof of beauty that remained, for
grief and penance had worn away the warp, leaving only the lines on
which the exquisite fabric had been woven; but what was left of the
woman was still there, breathing and living, while her soul had grown
great in strength and spiritual honour till it towered above his who had
once loved her, and made him afraid to meet her look.

It could not last long, he knew, but while it did he must be alone. He
walked far out on a road that led through the rich damp plain, and it
was not till the sun was sinking low that he began to retrace his steps.

When he reached the inn he found Trombin and Stradella together, and his
friend introduced him with some ceremony as Count Gambardella. The
musician, who was fully informed of the latter's errand, pressed his
hand warmly, and looked at him, evidently expecting news of Ortensia.

'The lady and her serving-woman are well, sir,' Gambardella said at
once, 'and I trust that to-morrow may end your difficulties happily.'

'I hope so indeed,' Stradella answered.

He looked pale and careworn, but no one would have guessed from his
appearance that he had just spent four nights and the better part of
five days in the most noisome dungeon in Ferrara. He wore the same black
velvet coat with purple silk facings which he was wearing when Ortensia
saw him for the first time. It fitted him well and showed his athletic
young figure to advantage, for the fashion was not yet for the 'French'
coat which Louis Fourteenth afterwards made universal.

Gambardella measured him with his eye, as Trombin must have done
already. He wore only the short rapier of a civilian gentleman, but he
might be a good fencer and able to give trouble to a single adversary,
and he looked strong. Neither of the Bravi knew what physical fear
meant, but it was of no use to risk a useless wound, and men of
Stradella's type could be more conveniently despatched by stabbing them
in the back than by going through the form of a duel.

'I have not been able to see the lady herself,' Gambardella continued,
'but the Mother Superior of the Ursulines was so good as to receive me,
and after some demur she agreed to let the Lady Ortensia and her woman
leave the convent early to-morrow morning.'

'Not till to-morrow?' Stradella