once the
flavor pleased you, but now--now, think you not the dregs taste
somewhat cold?"

She shrunk at my glance--her head drooped, and drawing near a
projecting stone in the wall, she sat down upon it, pressing one hand
to her heart.

"No heart, no conscience, no memory!" I cried. "Great Heaven! that such
a thing should live and call itself woman! The lowest beast of the
field has more compassion for its kind! Listen: before Guido died he
knew me, even as my child, neglected by you, in her last agony knew her
father. She being innocent, passed in peace; but he!--imagine if you
can, the wrenching torture in which he perished, knowing all! How his
parted spirit must curse you!"

She raised her hands to her head and pushed away the light curls from
her brow. There was a starving, hunted, almost furious look in her
eyes, but she fixed them steadily on me.

"See," I went on--"here are more proofs of the truth of my story. These
things were buried with me," and I threw into her lap as she sat before
me the locket and chain, the card-case and purse she herself had given
me. "You will no doubt recognize them. This--" and I showed her the
monk's crucifix--"this was laid on my breast in the coffin. It may be
useful to you--you can pray to it presently!"

She interrupted me with a gesture of her hand; she spoke as though in a
dream.

"You escaped from this vault?" she said, in a low tone, looking from
right to left with searching eagerness. "Tell me how--and--where?"

I laughed scornfully, guessing her thoughts.

"It matters little," I replied. "The passage I discovered is now closed
and fast cemented. I have seen to that myself! No other living creature
left here can escape as I did. Escape is impossible."

A stifled cry broke from her; she threw herself at my feet, letting the
things I had given her as proofs of my existence fall heedlessly on the
floor.

"Fabio! Fabio!" she cried, "save me, pity me! Take me out to the
light--the air--let me live! Drag me through Naples--let all the crowd
see me dishonored, brand me with the worst of names, make of me a
common outcast--only let me feel the warm life throbbing in my veins! I
will do anything, say anything, be anything--only let me live! I loath
the cold and darkness--the horrible--horrible ways of death!" She
shuddered violently and clung to me afresh. "I am so young! and after
all, am I so vile? There are women who count their lovers by the score,
and yet they a