so many afflicted, be extended peacefully and humbly to so many
enemies."

"Unhappy man that I am," exclaimed the signor, "one thing, at least, I
can quickly arrest and repair."

Federigo listened attentively to the relation of Lucia's abduction. "Ah,
let us lose no time!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "This is an earnest of
God's forgiveness, to make you an instrument of safety to one whom you
would have ruined."

_IV.--In a Lazzeretto_

Thanks to his cousin, Renzo was enabled to earn very good wages, and
would have been quite content to remain had it not been for his desire
to rejoin Lucia. A terrible outbreak of plague in Milan spread to
Bergamo, and our friend was among the first to be stricken down, his
recovery being due more to his excellent constitution than to any
medical skill. Thereafter, he lost no more time, and after many
inquiries he succeeded in tracing Lucia to an address in Milan.

Secure in an _alias_, he set out to the plague-stricken city, which he
found in the most deplorable condition. Having found the house of which
he was in search, he knocked loudly at the door and inquired if Lucia
still lived there. To his horror, he found that she had been taken to
the Lazzeretto!

Let the reader imagine the enclosure of the Lazzeretto, peopled with
16,000 persons ill of the plague; the whole area encumbered, here with
tents and cabins, there with carts, and elsewhere with people; crowded
with dead or dying, stretched on mattresses, or on bare straw; and
throughout the whole a commotion like the swell of the sea.

"Lucia, I've found you! You're living!" exclaimed Renzo, all in a
tremble.

"Oh, blessed Lord!" cried she, trembling far more violently. "You?"

"How pale you are! You've recovered, though?"

"The Lord has pleased to leave me here a little longer. Ah, Renzo, why
are you here?"

"Why? Need I say why? Am I no longer Renzo? Are you no longer Lucia?"

"Ah, what are you saying? Didn't my mother write to you?"

"Ay, that indeed she did. Fine things to offer to an unfortunate,
afflicted, fugitive wretch who had never done you wrong."

"But, Renzo, Renzo, you don't think what you're saying! A promise to the
Madonna--a vow!"

"And I think better of the Madonna than you do, for I believe she
doesn't wish for promises that injure one's fellow-creatures. Promise
her that our first daughter shall be called Maria, for that I'm willing
to promise, too. That is a devotion that may have some u