vent cell and left her presence; his keen ear had heard the footfall of a monk without.
"I come, my son—I come!" he said, gently, in his sweet lingering voice. "The captive is contumacious still, but, with discipline and persuasion, she may still be reclaimed to the august faith. Draw the bolts well—so! so!—and deal gently with her; she will see her error."
Alone, where the silver lamp shed its lambent flickering light, Idalia thrust her hand within the folds of the rich scarlet and weighty broideries and sweeping lace of the masquerade dress she still wore, and drew half out from its resting-place in her bosom a delicate gold-sheathed Venetian stiletto, a jewel-studded toy slung by a chain round her throat. She looked at the slender, glittering, lithe blade, and smiled as she put it back.
"His!—while that steel will release me the moment his lips dare touch mine!"
For she had in her the temper of Lucretia.
