—Mr. Evelyn, you are free: I pardon you for the sake of others, and will consider their intercession sufficient pledge for your loyalty."
Evelyn, bewildered by the sudden change, sunk on his knee and silently kissed the King's extended hand; he strove to speak his thanks, the words died upon his lips; but attention was drawn from his emotion by the entrance of Francesca. She was dressed in her black novice's robe, whose large loose folds suited so well the simple dignity of her air. Her hair was just parted on her forehead, and gathered up in a single knot behind. She was pale as marble; but her large eyes had an unnatural and feverish brightness; and when she came into the room, and perceived Evelyn, a crimson flush for a moment passed over her countenance, but left it even paler than before. She hesitated, and he was that instant at her side. He took her hand, and led her, scarce conscious, across the room. "Kneel, my bride, my beloved!" said he, in a whisper, "and thank our Sovereign for a life which is indeed precious for your sake."
Francesca sank at the King's feet; but before she could speak, he raised her from the ground, and said, "Why, this is strange bridal attire, my beautiful nun!"
