"You had better take time for reflection—not rush on certain death, which your words"
"Leave me! you have your answer, as briefly as even you could have desired. I am a free man, and, being free, have a right to love Donna Lucretia, which no man shall destroy, save but with my death. You are answered; go at once."
The familiar was already gone, but the mask of St. Peter's was standing in his place.
"You had better reconsider your decision," he muttered, in a sepulchral voice. "It is altogether too hasty. Perhaps you think you are not doomed. If so, read your death-warrant!" and he thrust the paper before his face, and opened a dark lantern he had brought, that the prisoner might read it.
"I see," said Mercado. "It is signed by the cardinals, and bears their seal. Death is indeed my lot!" and he threw himself moodily into one corner of the apartment.
"Is your resolution fixed?"
"As the decrees of destiny!"
The mask uttered a curse of vindictiveness, and turned to depart. The familiar was standing at the door.
"Pireto," said the mask to him, "see that my orders are executed to the letter. If the bell rings three times, behead your prisoner, in conformity to the orders already given. But should it ring but twice, you must not harm a hair of his head!"
The familiar bowed assent, and the mask departed. And here we change the scene.
