house were
perfectly familiar to him, and had it been possible to conduct a
search, he would soon have ascertained whether she he sought was kept
imprisoned here; but, unless he took the place by storm, how could he
hope to make any discovery? Whilst he was impatiently reflecting,
Petronilla entered. She moved towards him with her wonted dignity of
mien, but in the look with which she examined him, as she paused at two
paces' distance, it was easy to perceive distrust, and a certain
inquietude.

'Your leisure at length permits you to visit me, dear lord Basil,' she
began coldly.

'My leisure, indeed,' he replied, 'has not been great since the day on
which you left Surrentum. But the more plainly we speak to each other
the better. I come now to ask whether you will release Veranilda to me,
instead of waiting until you are compelled to release her to the
Greeks.'

Before replying, Petronilla clapped her hands, then stood waiting for a
moment, and said at length:

'You can now speak without hearers. I did not think you would be so
imprudent in your words. Go on: say what you will.'

She seated herself, and looked at Basil with a contemptuous smile. He,
surprised by her behaviour, spoke on with angry carelessness.

'I neither cared before, nor do I now, if any of your servants overhear
me. No more credit would be given to anything they told of me than is
given to what you yourself say I might begin by warning you of the
dangers to which you are exposed, but no doubt you have calculated
them, and think the price not too much to pay for your revenge. Well,
with your revenge I have no wish to interfere. Hold Aurelia prisoner as
long as you will, or as long as you can. I speak only of Veranilda,
against whom you can feel no enmity. Will you release her to me? It
will only be anticipating by a few days her release to Bessas.
Veranilda in his hands, trust me, he will care little what becomes of
Aurelia.'

'I listen to you,' replied Petronilla, 'because I am curious to learn
into what extravagances your ignoble passion drives you. I had been
told, but could hardly believe, that you charged me with having seized
these women. Now I see that you really are foolish enough to think it.'
She threw her head back in a silent laugh of scorn. 'Child--for you are
a child in wit though man in years--do you not live at large in Rome,
free to come and go as you will?'

'What of that?'

'Am not I also a free woman? Did I not yesterd