cy, even by a
suggestion. Enough for me to triumph in their success, to mourn for
their failure. Now, I ask thee one request--spare me the life of this
man."

"Nina--"

"Hear me,--for thee I speak! Despite his crimes, his valour and his
genius have gained him admirers, even amongst his foes. Many a prince,
many a state that secretly rejoices at his fall, will affect horror
against his judge. Hear me farther. His brothers aided your return;
the world will term you ungrateful. His brothers lent you monies, the
world--(out on it!)--will term you--"

"Hold!" interrupted the Senator. "All that thou sayest, my mind
forestalled. But thou knowest me--to thee I have no disguise. No compact
can bind Montreal's faith--no mercy win his gratitude. Before his red
right hand truth and justice are swept away. If I condemn Montreal I
incur disgrace and risk danger--granted. If I release him, ere the first
showers of April, the chargers of the Northmen will neigh in the halls
of the Capitol. Which shall I hazard in this alternative, myself or
Rome? Ask me no more--to bed, to bed!"

"Couldst thou read my forebodings, Cola, mystic--gloomy--unaccountable?"

"Forebodings!--I have mine," answered Rienzi, sadly, gazing on space,
as if his thoughts peopled it with spectres. Then, raising his eyes to
Heaven, he said with that fanatical energy which made much both of his
strength and weakness--"Lord, mine at least not the sin of Saul! the
Amalekite shall not be saved!"

While Rienzi enjoyed a short, troubled, and restless sleep, over which
Nina watched--unslumbering, anxious, tearful, and oppressed with dark
and terrible forewarnings--the accuser was more happy than the judge.
The last thoughts that floated before the young mind of Angelo Villani,
ere wrapped in sleep, were bright and sanguine. He felt no honourable
remorse that he had entrapped the confidence of another--he felt only
that his scheme had prospered, that his mission had been fulfilled.
The grateful words of Rienzi rang in his ear, and hopes of fortune and
power, beneath the sway of the Roman Senator, lulled him into slumber,
and coloured all his dreams.

Scarce, however, had he been two hours asleep, ere he was wakened by one
of the attendants of the palace, himself half awake. "Pardon me, Messere
Villani," said he, "but there is a messenger below from the good Sister
Ursula; he bids thee haste instantly to the Convent--she is sick unto
death, and has tidings that crave t