seek one whose life is dearer than my own."

"Thou needest say no more to tell me thou art newly come to Florence!
Here son forsakes his father, and mother deserts her child. When life
is most hopeless, these worms of a day cling to it as if it were the
salvation of immortality! But for me alone, death has no horror. Long
severed from the world, I have seen my sisterhood perish--the house of
God desecrated--its altar overthrown, and I care not to survive,--the
last whom the Pestilence leaves at once unperjured and alive."

The nun paused a few moments, and then, looking earnestly at
the healthful countenance and unbroken frame of Adrian, sighed
heavily--"Stranger, why fly you not?" she said. "Thou mightst as well
search the crowded vaults and rotten corruption of the dead, as search
the city for one living."

"Sister, and bride of the blessed Redeemer!" returned the Roman,
clasping his hands--"one word I implore thee. Thou art, methinks, of the
sisterhood of yon dismantled convent; tell me, knowest thou if Irene
di Gabrini, (The family name of Rienzi was Gabrini.)--guest of the
late Abbess, sister of the fallen Tribune of Rome,--be yet amongst the
living?"

"Art thou her brother, then?" said the nun. "Art thou that fallen Sun of
the Morning?"

"I am her betrothed," replied Adrian, sadly. "Speak."

"Oh, flesh! flesh! how art thou victor to the last, even amidst the
triumphs and in the lazar-house of corruption!" said the nun. "Vain man!
Think not of such carnal ties; make thy peace with heaven, for thy days
are surely numbered!"

"Woman!" cried Adrian, impatiently--"talk not to me of myself, nor rail
against ties whose holiness thou canst not know. I ask thee again, as
thou thyself hopest for mercy and for pardon, is Irene living?"

The nun was awed by the energy of the young lover, and after a moment,
which seemed to him an age of agonized suspense, she replied--

"The maiden thou speakest of died not with the general death. In the
dispersion of the few remaining, she left the convent--I know not
whither; but she had friends in Florence--their names I cannot tell
thee."

"Now bless thee, holy sister! bless thee! How long since she left the
convent?"

"Four days have passed since the robber and the harlot have seized the
house of Santa Maria," replied the nun, groaning: "and they were quick
successors to the sisterhood."

"Four days!--and thou canst give me no clue?"

"None--yet stay, young man!"--and t