wife, entirely absorbed in counting over
Carmelo Neri's treasures, apparently saw and heard nothing. Suddenly
she broke into another laugh--a chuckling, mirthless laugh such as
might come from the lips of the aged and senile. The sound curdled the
blood in my veins--it was the laugh of a mad-woman! With an earnest,
distinct voice I called to her:

"Nina! Nina!"

She turned toward me still smiling--her eyes were bright, her face had
regained its habitual color, and as she stood in the dim light, with
her rich tresses falling about her, and the clustering gems massed
together in a glittering fire against her white skin, she looked
unnaturally, wildly beautiful. She nodded to me, half graciously, half
haughtily, but gave me no answer. Moved with quick pity I called again:

"Nina!"

She laughed again--the same terrible laugh.

"Si, si! Son' bella, son' bellissima!" she murmured. "E tu, Guido mio?
Tu m'ami?"

Then raising one hand as though commanding attention she cried:

"Ascolta!" and began to sing clearly though feebly:

"Ti saluto, Rosignuolo!
Nel tuo duolo--ti saluto!
Sei l'amante della rosa
Che morendo si fa sposa!"

As the old familiar melody echoed through the dreary vault, my bitter
wrath against her partially lessened; with the swiftness of my southern
temperament a certain compassion stirred my soul. She was no longer
quite the same woman who had wronged and betrayed me--she had the
helplessness and fearful innocence of madness--in that condition I
could not have hurt a hair of her head. I stepped hastily forward--I
resolved to take her out of the vault--after all I would not leave her
thus--but as I approached, she withdrew from me, and with an angry
stamp of her foot motioned me backward, while a dark frown knitted her
fair brows.

"Who are you?" she cried, imperiously. "You are dead, quite dead! How
dare you come out of your grave!"

And she stared at me defiantly--then suddenly clasping her hands as
though in ecstasy, and seeming to address some invisible being at her
side, she said, in low, delighted tones:

"He is dead, Guido! Are you not glad?" She paused, apparently expecting
some reply, for she looked about her wonderingly, and continued--"You
did not answer me--are you afraid? Why are you so pale and stern? Have
you just come back from Rome? What have you heard? That I am
false?--oh, no! I will love you still--Ah! I forgot! you also are dead,
Guido! I remember now--you c