hast been taught to fear?" said Adrian; "if so, I
will forswear it."

If Irene now blushed deeply, it was not in that wild delight with which
her romantic heart motive foretold that she would listen to the
first words of homage from Adrian di Castello. Bewildered and
confused,--terrified at the strangeness of the place and shrinking even
from the thought of finding herself alone with one who for years had
been present to her fancies,--alarm and distress were the emotions
she felt the most, and which most were impressed upon her speaking
countenance; and as Adrian now drew nearer to her, despite the
gentleness of his voice and the respect of his looks, her fears, not the
less strong that they were vague, increased upon her: she retreated to
the further end of the room, looked wildly round her, and then, covering
her face with her hands, burst into a paroxysm of tears.

Moved himself by these tears, and divining her thoughts, Adrian forgot
for moment all the more daring wishes he had formed.

"Fear not, sweet lady," said he, earnestly: "recollect thyself, I
beseech thee; no peril, no evil can reach thee here; it was this hand
that saved thee from the outrage of the Orsini--this roof is but the
shelter of a friend! Tell me, then, fair wonder, thy name and residence,
and I will summon my servitors, and guard thee to thy home at once."

Perhaps the relief of tears, even more than Adrian's words, restored
Irene to herself, and enabled her to comprehend her novel situation;
and as her senses, thus cleared, told her what she owed to him whom her
dreams had so long imaged as the ideal of all excellence, she recovered
her self-possession, and uttered her thanks with a grace not the less
winning, if it still partook of embarrassment.

"Thank me not," answered Adrian, passionately. "I have touched thy
hand--I am repaid. Repaid! nay, all gratitude--all homage is for me to
render!"

Blushing again, but with far different emotions than before, Irene,
after a momentary pause, replied, "Yet, my Lord, I must consider it a
debt the more weighty that you speak of it so lightly. And now, complete
the obligation. I do not see my companion--suffer her to accompany me
home; it is but a short way hence."

"Blessed, then, is the air that I have breathed so unconsciously!" said
Adrian. "But thy companion, dear lady, is not here. She fled, I imagine,
in the confusion of the conflict; and not knowing thy name, nor being
able, in thy then s