lden beams overhead
melted to a red glow that spread downwards and illuminated all the great
church for a little while; then the light deepened to purple, and that
softened to violet, and the candles about the high altar under the
tabernacle shone out through thin clouds of incense like many stars.
Again Stradella's voice was heard alone, and Ortensia sank upon her
knees beside her pillar, though it was not yet quite time for kneeling.
It was as if she could bear no more of such intense pleasure without
praying to heaven that it might be hers hereafter to love her true love
to all ages, and for ever to hear his voice singing to her in a place of
peace.

The Bravi had now parted company, and Trombin had quietly gone out of
the church, leaving Gambardella alone. The dark-faced man in black moved
slowly and noiselessly as a shadow; he crossed the nave far down by the
door, and walked up the outer aisle on the south side, till he could go
no farther up for the crowd; then he turned to his right, making his way
quietly through the multitude wherever the people were least closely
packed, and he emerged at last not far from where Ortensia was kneeling,
and with all the appearance of having come out of the thick of the
press, which was exactly what he wished her to believe.

She was still kneeling, and Cucurullo was standing beside her, hat in
hand. It was now so dark in the body of the Basilica that Stradella
could not possibly see any one there, especially as he was dazzled by
the many candles that illuminated the upper end of the church.

Gambardella bowed gravely and bent down to speak near Ortensia's ear.

'I have a message from the Maestro for you,' he said, almost in a
whisper.

Ortensia had already looked up with a little surprise, which now
increased.

'A message?' she repeated. 'We came here together, and he has not left
the organ loft since!'

'Precisely,' answered Gambardella, unmoved. 'I was standing in the crowd
just below, and when he had finished directing the motett he made me a
sign to go to the steps at the back. I went, and he was already halfway
down the ladder. He seemed much agitated. You must have noticed how
strangely his voice thrilled in that last piece he sang.'

'Yes. Tell me what he said!'

Ortensia was already breathless with anxiety, and as she spoke she got
upon her feet. Gambardella helped her.

'He had a note in his hand. It was a warning which some one had brought
to him in the l