it, with an indescribably weird and
startling effect. It required all of Isabelle's really heroic courage to
keep on past the long line of strange faces, looking down mockingly it
seemed to her from their proud height upon her trembling form as she
glided swiftly by, and she was thankful to find, at the end of the
gallery, a glass door opening out upon the court. It was not fastened,
and after carefully placing her lamp in a sheltered corner, where no
draughts could reach it, she stepped out under the stars. It was a
relief to find herself breathing freely in the fresh, pure air, though
she was actually no less a prisoner than before, and as she stood
looking up into the clear evening sky, and thinking of her own true
lover, she seemed to feel new courage and hope springing up in her
heart.

In one corner of the court she saw a strong light shining out through
the crevices in the shutters that closed several low windows, and heard
sounds of revelry from the same direction--the only signs of life she
had detected about the whole place. Her curiosity was excited by them,
and she stole softly over towards the quarter from whence they came,
keeping carefully in the shadow of the wall, and glancing anxiously
about to make sure that no one was furtively watching her. Finding a
considerable aperture in one of the wooden shutters she peeped through
it, and saw a party of men gathered around a table, eating and drinking
and making merry in a very noisy fashion. The light from a lamp with
three burners, which was suspended by a copper chain from the low
ceiling, fell full upon them, and although she had only seen them masked
before, Isabelle instantly recognised those who had been concerned
in her abduction. At the head of the table sat Malartic, whose
extraordinary face was paler and nose redder than ever, and at sight
of whom the young girl shuddered and drew back. When she had recovered
herself a little, she looked in again upon the repulsive scene, and was
surprised to see, at the other end of the table, and somewhat apart from
the others, Agostino, the brigand, who had now laid aside the long
white beard in which he had played the part of the old blind beggar
so successfully. A great deal of loud talking was going on, constantly
interrupted by bursts of laughter, but Isabelle could not hear
distinctly enough through the closed window to make out what they were
saying. Even if she had been actually in the room with them, she