u done?'

Barnardine hesitated, and was silent.

'What fiend could tempt him, or you, to such an act!' cried Emily,
chilled with horror, and scarcely able to support her fainting spirits.

'It was a fiend,' said Barnardine in a gloomy tone of voice. They
were now both silent;--Emily had not courage to enquire further, and
Barnardine seemed to shrink from telling more. At length he said, 'It
is of no use to think of the past; the Signor was cruel enough, but he
would be obeyed. What signified my refusing? He would have found others,
who had no scruples.'

'You have murdered her, then!' said Emily, in a hollow and inward
voice--'I am talking with a murderer!' Barnardine stood silent; while
Emily turned from him, and attempted to leave the place.

'Stay, lady!' said he, 'You deserve to think so still--since you can
believe me capable of such a deed.'

'If you are innocent, tell me quickly,' said Emily, in faint accents,
'for I feel I shall not be able to hear you long.'

'I will tell you no more,' said he, and walked away. Emily had just
strength enough to bid him stay, and then to call Annette, on whose arm
she leaned, and they walked slowly up the rampart, till they heard steps
behind them. It was Barnardine again.

'Send away the girl,' said he, 'and I will tell you more.'

'She must not go,' said Emily; 'what you have to say, she may hear.'

'May she so, lady?' said he. 'You shall know no more, then;' and he was
going, though slowly, when Emily's anxiety, overcoming the resentment
and fear, which the man's behaviour had roused, she desired him to stay,
and bade Annette retire.

'The Signora is alive,' said he, 'for me. She is my prisoner, though;
his excellenza has shut her up in the chamber over the great gates of
the court, and I have the charge of her. I was going to have told you,
you might see her--but now--'

Emily, relieved from an unutterable load of anguish by this speech, had
now only to ask Barnardine's forgiveness, and to conjure, that he would
let her visit her aunt.

He complied with less reluctance, than she expected, and told her, that,
if she would repair, on the following night, when the Signor was retired
to rest, to the postern-gate of the castle, she should, perhaps, see
Madame Montoni.

Amid all the thankfulness, which Emily felt for this concession,
she thought she observed a malicious triumph in his manner, when he
pronounced the last words; but, in the next moment, she dismisse