, as one after
another contributed to the list, a little group, assembled on the quay,
enumerated no less than five-and-twenty lives which were believed to
have been taken by the hand of Jacopo, without including the vindictive
and useless assassination of him whose funeral rites had just been
celebrated. Happily, perhaps, for his peace of mind, the subject of all
these rumors and of the maledictions which they drew upon his head, knew
nothing of either. Before his judges he had made no defence whatever,
firmly refusing to answer their interrogatories.

"Ye know what I have done, Messires," he said haughtily. "And what I
have not done, ye know. As for yourselves, look to your own interests."

When again in his cell he demanded food, and ate tranquilly, though with
moderation. Every instrument which could possibly be used against his
life was then removed, his irons were finally and carefully examined,
and he was left to his thoughts. It was in this situation that the
prisoner heard the approach of footsteps to his cell. The bolts turned,
and the door opened. The form of a priest appeared between him and the
day. The latter, however, held a lamp, which, as the cell was again shut
and secured, he placed on the low shelf that held the jug and loaf of
the prisoner.

Jacopo received his visitor calmly, but with the deep respect of one who
reverenced his body office. He arose, crossed himself, and advanced as
far as the chains permitted, to do him honor.

"Thou art welcome, father," he said; "in cutting me off from earth, the
Council, I see, does not wish to cut me off from God."

"That would exceed their power, son. He who died for them, shed his
blood for thee, if thou wilt not reject his grace. But--Heaven knows I
say it with reluctance! thou art not to think that one of thy sins,
Jacopo, can have hope without deep and heartfelt repentance!"

"Father, have any?"

The Carmelite started, for the point of the question, and the tranquil
tones of the speaker, had a strange effect in such an interview.

"Thou art not what I had supposed thee, Jacopo!" he answered. "Thy mind
is not altogether obscured in darkness, and thy crimes have been
committed against the consciousness of their enormity."

"I fear this is true, reverend monk."

"Thou must feel their weight in the poignancy of grief--in the--" Father
Anselmo stopped, for a sob at that moment apprised them that they were
not alone. Moving aside, in a little alarm, t