the procession, which slowly
disappeared into the vault.

Cethegus recognised the sobbing Daphnidion, and stopped her.

"When did she die?" he asked calmly.

"Oh, sir, a few hours ago! Oh, the good, kind, beautiful Domna!"

"Did she ever awaken to full consciousness?"

"No, sir, never. Only quite at the last she once more opened her large
eyes, and appeared to seek for something. 'Where has he gone?' she
asked her mother. 'Ah, I see him!' she then cried, and rose from her
cushions. 'Child, my child, where will you go?' cried my mistress,
weeping. 'Oh, there!' she replied with a rapturous smile; 'to the Isles
of the Blessed!' and she closed her eyes and fell back upon her couch;
that lovely smile remained upon her lips--and she was gone, gone for
ever!"

"Who has caused her to be brought down here?"

"The Queen. She learned everything, and gave orders that the deceased,
as the bride of her son, should be laid beside him and buried in the
same tomb."

"But what says the physician? How could she die so suddenly?"

"Alas! the physician saw her only for a moment; he was too much
occupied with the royal corpse; and then my mistress would not suffer
the strange man to touch her daughter. It is just her heart that has
been broken; one can easily die of that! But peace--they come!"

The procession returned in the same order as before, but without the
coffin. Daphnidion joined it. Only Rusticiana was missing.

Cethegus quietly walked up and down the corridor, to wait for her.

At last her bowed-down form came slowly up the steps. She staggered and
seemed about to fall.

Cethegus quickly caught her arm. "Rusticiana, take courage!"

"You here? God! you also loved her! And we--we two have murdered her!"
and she sank upon his shoulder.

"Silence, unhappy woman!" he whispered, looking around.

"Alas! I, her own mother, have killed her! I mixed the fatal draught
that caused his death."

"All is well," thought Cethegus. "She has no suspicion that Camilla
drank, and still less that I saw her do so.--It is a terrible stroke of
Fate!" he said aloud. "But reflect, what would have followed had she
lived? She loved him!"

"What would have followed?" cried Rusticiana, receding. "Oh, if she but
lived! Who can prevent love? Oh that she had become his--his wife--his
mistress, provided only that she lived!"

"But you forget that he _must_ have died?"

"Must? Why must he have died? So that you might carry out your
ambitiou