change had taken place. He was very quiet, as he had
always been, but he was almost too quiet. She could not make out his
eyes. She knew of his superhuman strength, and his stillness seemed
unnatural. What he said did not sound rational. An impression got hold
of her that he had gone mad, and she was physically afraid of him. He
began to explain. She felt a singing in her ears, and she could not
follow what he said. It was like an evil dream, and it grew upon her
second by second.

He talked on in the same even, monotonous tone. The words meant nothing
to her. She crossed her feet nervously and tried to get a soothing
sensation by stroking her sable muff. She made a great effort at
concentration and failed to understand anything.

All at once it grew dark, as the sunset light faded out of the sky.
Again she felt the desire to rise and the certainty that she could not,
if she tried. He ceased speaking and seemed to expect her to say
something, but she had not understood a word of his long explanation. He
sat patiently waiting. She could hardly distinguish his face in the
gloom.

The sound of irregular, shuffling footsteps and low voices moved the
stillness. The vergers were making their last round in a hurried,
perfunctory way. They passed across the transept to the high altar. It
was so dark that Francesca could only just see their shadows moving in
the blackness. She did not realize what they were doing, and her
imagination made ghosts of them, rushing through the silence of the
deserted place, from one tomb to another, waking the dead for the night.
They did not even glance across, as they skirted the wall of the church.
Even if they had looked, they might not have seen two persons in black,
against the blackness, sitting silently side by side on the dark bench.
They saw nothing and passed on, out of sight and out of hearing.

"May I ask whether you will give him the message?" inquired Griggs at
last, moving in his seat, for he knew that it was time to be going.

Francesca started, at the sound of his voice.

"I--I am afraid--I have not understood," she said. "I beg your pardon--I
was not paying attention. I am nervous."

"It is growing late," said Griggs. "We had better be going--I will tell
you again as we walk to the door."

"Yes--no--just a moment!" She made a strong effort over herself. "Tell
me in three words," she said. "Who is it that threatens Lord Redin's
life?"

"A peasant of Subiaco called Stefa