forward--received
him in her arms--and supported him to a seat.

"Oh! Nisida, Nisida!" he exclaimed aloud, in a tone expressive of deep
anguish; "what will become of your unfortunate brother? But it is not
you who have done this! No--for you were not in Florence at the time
which beheld the cruel separation of Flora and myself!"

And, throwing himself on his sister's neck, he burst into tears. He had
apostrophized her in the manner just related, not because he fancied
that she could hear or understand him; but because he forgot, in the
maddening paroxysms of his grief, that Nisida was (as he believed) deaf
and dumb! She wound her arms round him--she pressed him to her
bosom--she covered his pale forehead with kisses; while her heart bled
at the sight of his alarming sorrow.

Suddenly he started up--flung his arms wildly about--and exclaimed, in a
frantic voice, "Bring me my steel panoply! give me my burgonet--my
cuirass--and my trusty sword;--and let me arouse all Florence to a sense
of its infamy in permitting that terrible inquisition to exist! Bring me
my armor, I say--the same sword I wielded on the walls of Rhodes--and I
will soon gather a trusty band to aid me!"

But, overcome with excitement, he fell forward--dashing his head
violently upon the floor, before Nisida could save him. She pealed the
silver bell that was placed upon the breakfast-table, and assistance
soon came. Francisco was immediately conveyed to his chamber--Dr. Duras
was sent for--and on his arrival, he pronounced the young nobleman to be
laboring under a violent fever. The proper medical precautions were
adopted; and the physician was in a few hours able to declare that
Francisco was in no imminent danger, but that several days would elapse
ere he could possibly become convalescent. Nisida remained by his
bedside, and was most assiduous--most tender--most anxious in her
attentions toward him; and when he raved, in his delirium, of Flora and
the inquisition, it went to her very heart to think that she was
compelled by a stern necessity to abstain from exerting her influence to
procure the release of one whose presence would prove of far greater
benefit to the sufferer than all the anodynes and drugs which the skill
of Dr. Duras might administer!

CHAPTER LXII.

THE SICK-ROOM--FLORENCE IN DISMAY.

It was about an hour past daybreak on the 1st of October,--five days
after the incidents related in the three preceding chapters. Nisid