amazement.

"Wife!" Florestan clasped her weakly to his heart. Pizarro rushed at
Fidelio, becoming frantic with rage. He hurled her away and shouted:

"No woman shall frighten me! Away with ye! The man shall die."
Instantly, Fidelio drew a pistol and pointed it at the murderer.

"If he is to die, you shall die also," she cried, whereupon Rocco
shouted in fright, since it was a dreadful thing to try conclusions
with the governor of the prison. Pizarro himself drew back with fear.

Then a fanfare of trumpets was heard, announcing the arrival of
Fernando, the Minister.

"Hark!" Pizarro cried. "I am undone! It is Fernando!" The assassin
began to tremble. But Florestan and Fidelio knew that liberty was
near. One word of the truth to the Minister, one word that should tell
him of the governor's awful cruelty for a personal revenge, would set
Florestan free and bring punishment to Pizarro. Then Jaquino hurried
in:

"Come, come, quick! The Minister and his suite are at the gates."

"Thank God," said the kind-hearted jailer, under his breath. "The man
is surely saved now. We're coming, my lad, we're coming," he answered.
"Let the men come down and bear torches before Don Pizarro. He cannot
find his way out." Rocco's voice was trembling with gladness,
Florestan was almost fainting with weakness because of the sudden joy
that had come to him. Fidelio was praying to heaven in gratitude,
while Don Pizarro was horrified at the thought of what his punishment
would be.

The jailer and Don Pizarro ascended, and soon Fernando ordered all the
prisoners of the fortress brought before him. He had come to
investigate the doings of the governor who had long been known as a
great tyrant. When the unhappy men, who had been abused by starving
and confinement in underground cells, stood before him, the Minister's
heart was sorely touched, and Don Pizarro was more and more afraid.
Presently, Rocco fearlessly brought Fidelio and Don Florestan in front
of Fernando.

"Oh, great Minister, I beg you to give ear to the wrongs of this sad
pair," he cried, and as Fernando looked at Florestan his eyes filled
with tears.

"What, you? Florestan? My friend, whom I have so long believed was
dead? Thou who wert the friend of the oppressed, who tried to bring to
punishment this very wretch?" he said, looking at Pizarro; and his
speech revealed why Pizarro had wanted to revenge himself upon the
unhappy noble.

"Yes, yes, it is Don Florestan, my be