eak, and I
will listen. But we can walk on under the trees there. Then nobody can
see us."

Ercole began to go on, and Regina walked on his left side. The dog
sniffed at the hem of her long black cloak. They came under the shade of
the trees, and Ercole stopped again, and turned, facing the reflection
of the moonlight on the vast curve of the Colosseum.

"What do you want of me?" he asked. "Why do you follow me in the night?"

"When you saw that the Signore was with me to-day, you said, 'It cannot
be done.' He is not here now."

She stood quite still, looking at him.

"I understand nothing," he said, in the same surly tone as before.

"You wished to kill me to-day," she answered. "I am here. This is a good
place."

Ercole looked about him instinctively, peering into the shadows under
the trees.

"There is no one," Regina said. "This is a good place."

She had not lifted her veil, but she threw back the collar of her cloak,
and with quick fingers undid the fastenings of her dress, opening it
wide. Rays of moonlight fell through the trees upon her bosom, and it
gleamed like fine ivory newly cut.

"I wait," she said.

She stood motionless before him, expecting the knife, but her father's
hands did not move. His eyes were fixed on hers, though he could not see
them through the veil.

"So he has left you?" he said slowly.

"No. I am waiting."

Not a fold of her cloak stirred as she stood there to die. It seemed a
long time, but his hands did not move. Then he heard the sound of her
voice, very low and sweet, repeating a little prayer, but he only heard
the last words distinctly.

"--now, and in the hour of our death!"

His right hand moved slowly and found something in his pocket, and then
there was the sharp click of a strong spring, and a ray of moonlight
fell upon steel, and her voice was heard again.

"--in the hour of our death. Amen!"

An unearthly sound rent the stillness. The huge dog sat upright on his
haunches, his head thrown up and back, his terrible lower jaw trembling
as he howled, and howled again, waking great echoes where the roar of
wild lions had rung long ago.

Regina started, though she did not move a step; but an unreasoning fear
fell upon Ercole. He could not see her face, as the dark veil hung down.
She was so motionless and fearless; only the dead could be as fearless
of death and as still as she. Her breast was so white; her hands were
like marble hands, parting a black shr