fended? what
fiend thus vented his malignity on thee?"

"Hold, my lord!" cried Flora, in a beseeching tone; "perhaps you----"

And she checked herself abruptly.

"Call me not '_my lord_,' dearest maiden," said the count; "to thee I am
Francisco, as thou to me art Flora--my own beloved Flora! But wherefore
didst thou stop short thus? wherefore not conclude the sentence that was
half uttered? Oh, Flora--a terrible suspicion strikes me! Speak--relieve
me from the cruel suspicion under which I now labor; was it my
sister--my much lamented sister, who did thee that foul wrong?"

"I know not," replied Flora, weeping; "but--alas! pardon me, dear
Francisco--if I suspect aught so bad of any one connected with thee--and
yet Heaven knows how freely, how sincerely I forgive my enemy----" Her
voice was lost in sobs; and her head drooped on her lover's breast.

"Weep not, dearest one!" exclaimed Francisco. "Let not our meeting be
rendered mournful with tears. Thou knowest, perhaps, that Nisida
disappeared as suddenly and as mysteriously as thou didst; but could she
also have become the victim of the Carmelites? And did she, alas! perish
in the ruins of the convent?"

"I am well assured that the Lady Nisida was not doomed to that fate,"
answered Flora; "for had she been consigned to the convent, as a
punishment for some real offense, or on some groundless charge, she must
have passed the ordeal of the chamber of penitence, where I should have
seen her. Yes, Francisco--I have heard of her mysterious disappearance,
and I have shed many, many tears when I have thought of her, poor lady!
although," added the maiden in a low and plaintive tone, "I fear,
Francisco, that it was indeed she who doomed me to that monastic
dungeon. Doubtless, her keen perception--far more keen than in those who
are blessed with the faculties which were lost to her--enabled her to
penetrate the secret of that affection with which you had honored me,
and in which I felt so much happiness."

"I confessed my love to Nisida," interrupted Francisco; "but it was not
until your disappearance I was driven to despair, Flora. I was mad with
grief, and I could not, neither did I, attempt to conceal my emotion. I
told Nisida all: and well--oh! well--do I recollect the reply which she
gave me, giving fond assurance that my happiness would alone be
consulted."

"Alas! Was there no double meaning in that assurance?" asked Flora,
gently. "The Lady Nisida knew well how i