participated in the belief of his horror-stricken household. Certain it
is, he caused minute inquiries to be made, although at the express
disapprobation of the spiritual directors of the neighboring monastery,
some of whom were attached to the services of his chapel, and pointed out
to him the grievous sin it was thus to be solicitous about the fate of an
avowed heretic. But he could learn nothing. The maid who waited on her
testified that she assisted Gina to undress on the previous night. In
proof of which, the garments she had taken off were found in the chamber.
The remainder of her clothes were in their places undisturbed; the only
article missing being a nightdress, which the attendant in question said
she saw her put on; and her bed had not been slept in. Giovanni spoke to
his wife, but she observed a haughty silence, and it was useless to
question her. He had the moat dragged, and the neighborhood for miles
round scoured, but no tidings could be obtained. Yet, strange to say, in
passing on that first morning through the remote corridors, he fancied he
heard her voice pronounce his name in a tone of imploring agony. He
searched in every nook and corner, but found nothing, and soon thought no
more of it, except to marvel how his imagination could so have deceived
him.

After a time, peace was restored between the count and the Lady Adelaide;
but all bliss for her, all mutual confidence, had ceased for ever.

IV.

It was midnight. In the nursery at the castle sat the head nurse, and on
her lap was the dying heir of Visinara, now eight or ten months old. Until
nine days previous, he had been a healthy child, but, from that time, a
wasting fever had attacked him, and now he was ill unto death. The Lady
Adelaide, her eyes blinded with tears, knelt beside him, gazing on his
colorless face. The count himself was gently rubbing his little hands to
try and excite some warmth in them.

"Do you not think he looks a little, a _very_ little better?" demanded the
lady, anxiously.

The nurse hesitated. She did not think so, but she was unwilling to say
what she thought.

"His hands--are they any warmer, Giovanni?"

The count shook his head, and the nurse spoke. "There will be hope, madam,
if this last medicine should take effect."

The Lady Adelaide pressed her lips upon the infant's forehead, and burst
into tears.

"You will be ill, Adelaide," said her husband. "This incessant watching is
bad for you. Let