athered more thickly over the heavens. The gloomy
daylight coming in at the doors, and through the many windows, caught
up no ray within. The vaguely-sailing ships painted upon the wall,
destined never to find a port in those unknown seas for which their
sails were set--and that exasperating company opposite, that
through all changes of weal or woe danced remorselessly under the
greenwood--were shrouded in misty shadows.

Not a sound broke the silence--nothing save the striking of the clock
at Corellia, bringing with it visions of the dark old church--the
kneeling women--and the peace of God within. Even Argo and his
friends--Juno and Tuzzi, and the bull-dog--were mute.

About twelve o'clock the marchesa arrived from Lucca. In her company
came the Cavaliere Trenta and Maestro Guglielmi. Fra Pacifico was in
waiting. He received them with grave courtesy. Adamo, arrayed by Pipa
in his Sunday clothes, with a flower behind his ear, and Silvestro,
stood uncovered at the entrance. Once, and once only, Silvestro
abstained from addressing his mistress with his usual question about
her health.

Maestro Guglielmi was formally presented to Fra Pacifico by the
punctilious cavaliere, now restored to his usual health and spirits.
The cavaliere had arrayed himself in his official uniform--dark-purple
velvet embroidered with gold. Not having worn the uniform, however,
for more than twenty years, the coat was much too small for him. In
his hand he carried a white staff of office. This served him as a
stick. Coming up from Lucca, the cavaliere had reflected that on him
solely must rest the care of imparting some show of dignity to the
ceremony about to take place. He resolved that he would be equal to
the occasion, whatever might occur.

There was a strange hush upon each one of the little group met in the
sala. Each was busy with his own thoughts. The marriage about to take
place was to the marchesa the resurrection of the Guinigi name. To
Fra Pacifico it was the possible rescue of Enrica from a life of
suffering, perhaps an early death. To Guglielmi it was the triumph of
the keen lawyer, who had tracked and pursued his prey until that prey
had yielded. To the cavaliere it was simply an act of justice which
Count Nobili owed to Enrica, after the explanations he (Trenta) had
given to him through his lawyer, respecting Count Marescotti--such an
act of justice as the paternal government of his master the Duke
of Lucca would have forced