entre?"

"It was."

"Alas! alas! the arms of the Tribune's family! I remember how I
praised the mantle the first day she wore it--the day on which we were
betrothed!" And the lover at once conjectured the secret sentiment
which had induced Irene to retain thus carefully a robe so endeared by
association.

"You know no more of your lodgers?"

"Nothing."

"And is this all you have learned, knave?" cried Adrian.

"Patience. I must bring you from proof to proof, and link to link, in
order to win my reward. Follow, Signor."

The Becchino then passing through the several lanes and streets, arrived
at another house of less magnificent size and architecture. Again
he tapped thrice at the parlour door, and this time came forth a man
withered, old, and palsied, whom death seemed to disdain to strike.

"Signor Astuccio," said the Becchino, "pardon me; but I told thee I
might trouble thee again. This is the gentleman who wants to know, what
is often best unknown--but that's not my affair. Did a lady--young and
beautiful--with dark hair, and of a slender form, enter this house,
stricken with the first symptom of the Plague, three days since?"

"Ay, thou knowest that well enough; and thou knowest still better, that
she has departed these two days: it was quick work with her, quicker
than with most!"

"Did she wear anything remarkable?"

"Yes, troublesome man: a blue cloak, with stars of silver."

"Couldst thou guess aught of her previous circumstances?"

"No, save that she raved much about the nunnery of Santa Maria de'
Pazzi, and bravos, and sacrilege."

"Are you satisfied, Signor?" asked the gravedigger, with an air of
triumph, turning to Adrian. "But no, I will satisfy thee better, if thou
hast courage. Wilt thou follow?"

"I comprehend thee; lead on. Courage! What is there on earth now to
fear?"

Muttering to himself, "Ay, leave me alone. I have a head worth
something; I ask no gentleman to go by my word; I will make his own eyes
the judge of what my trouble is worth," the gravedigger now led the way
through one of the gates a little out of the city. And here, under a
shed, sat six of his ghastly and ill-omened brethren, with spades and
pick-axes at their feet.

His guide now turned round to Adrian, whose face was set, and resolute
in despair.

"Fair Signor," said he, with some touch of lingering compassion,
"wouldst thou really convince thine own eyes and heart?--the sight may
appal, the contagion may de