nd now let me hasten to bring my long and tedious explanations to a
conclusion--for they have occupied a longer space than I had at first
anticipated, and I am weak and faint. Little, however, remains to be
told. The nature of our father's will compelled me to persist in my
self-martyrdom: for I had sworn to my dying mother not to accept any
conditions or advantages which should have the effect of disinheriting
you, Francisco."

"Oh! what a debt of gratitude do I owe thee, my beloved sister!"
exclaimed the young count, deeply affected by the generous sacrifices
made by Nisida on his behalf.

"And think you I have experienced no reward?" asked the lady in a sweet
tone, and with a placid smile: "do you imagine that the consciousness of
having devoted myself to the fulfillment of my adored mother's wishes
has been no recompense? Yes--I have had my consolations and my hours of
happiness, as well as my sufferings and periods of profound affliction.
But I feel a soft and heavenly repose stealing over me--'tis a sweet
sleep, and yet it is not the slumber of death! No, no; 'tis a delicious
trance into which I am falling--'tis as if a celestial vision----"

She said no more. Her eyes closed, she fell back and slept soundly.

"Merciful Heavens! my sister is no more!" exclaimed Francisco, in terror
and despair.

"Fear not, my beloved husband," said Flora; "Nisida sleeps, and 'tis a
healthy slumber. The pulsations of her heart are regular; her breath
comes freely. Joy, joy, Francisco, she will recover!"

"The Holy Virgin grant that your hope may be fulfilled!" returned the
young count. "But let us not disturb her. We will sit down by the
bedside, Flora, and watch till she shall awake."

But scarcely had he uttered these words when the door of the chamber
opened, and an old man of venerable appearance, and with a long beard as
white as snow, advanced toward the newly married pair.

Francisco and Flora beheld him with feelings of reverence and awe, for
something appeared to tell them that he was a mortal of no common order.

"My dear children," he said, addressing them in a paternal manner, and
his voice firm, but mild, "ye need not watch here for the present.
Retire, and seek not this chamber again until the morning of to-morrow.
Fear nothing, excellent young man, for thou hast borne arms in the cause
of the cross. Fear nothing, amiable young lady, for thou art attended by
guardian angels."

And as the venerable man thus