be doing you."

She paused as if for an answer. I had none for her. I raised my arms,
then let them fall again, and bowed my head. I heard the gentle rustle
of her robe, and I looked up to see her staggering towards the door, her
arms in front of her like one who is blind. She reached it, pulled it
open, and from the threshold gave me one last ineffable look of her
great eyes, heavy now with tears. Then the door closed again, and I was
alone.

From my heart there rose a great surge of thankfulness. I fell upon my
knees and prayed. For an hour at least I must have knelt there, seeking
grace and strength; and comforted at last, my calm restored, I rose, and
went to the window. I drew back the curtains, and leaned out to breathe
the physical calm of that tepid September night.

And presently out of the gloom a great grey shape came winging towards
the window, the heavy pinions moving ponderously with their uncanny
sough. It was an owl attracted by the light. Before that bird of evil
omen, that harbinger of death, I drew back and crossed myself. I had a
sight of its sphinx-like face and round, impassive eyes ere it circled
to melt again into the darkness, startled by any sudden movement. I
closed the window and left the room.

Very softly I crept down the passage towards my chamber, leaving the
light burning in the library, for it was not my habit to extinguish it,
and I gave no thought to the lateness of the hour.

Midway down the passage I halted. I was level with Giuliana's door, and
from under it there came a slender blade of light. But it was not this
that checked me. She was singing, Such a pitiful little heartbroken song
it was:

"Amor mi muojo; mi muojo amore mio!"

ran its last line.

I leaned against the wall, and a sob broke from me. Then, in an instant,
the passage was flooded with light, and in the open doorway Giuliana
stood all white before me, her arms held out.

CHAPTER VI. THE IRON GIRDLE

From the distance, drawing rapidly nearer and ringing sharply in the
stillness of the night, came the clatter of a mule's hooves.

But, though heard, it was scarcely heard consciously, and it certainly
went unheeded until it was beneath the window and ceasing at the door.

Giuliana's fingers locked themselves upon my arm in a grip of fear.

"Who comes?" she asked, below her breath, fearfully. I sprang from the
bed and crouched, listening, by the window, and so lost precious time.

Out of th