bot,
whenever it may please you, we can set out on our mission. As to you,
my holy friends and worthy guests, during our absence comfort
yourselves with what is before you; the ham comes from the Duke's own
table, and the wine from his cellars."

And Lanzo and the Abbot left the tent.

_CHAPTER VII_.

_FATHER AND DAUGHTER_.

On a rough stone, in the deep and gloomy dungeon of the fortress of
Cinola, sat Guido de Bonello, his body bent forward until his head
almost rested upon his knees, his manacled hands hanging helpless under
the weight of his fetters, and his tearful gaze fixed despondingly upon
the ground. He was a brave man, and had often looked death boldly in
the face; and if he was now so unmanned, it was from no thought of his
own sad fate; his fears were for his daughter, so soon to be left
without a protector. Suddenly the sound of steps met his ear, and he
raised his head quickly, in the fond hope of distinguishing the light
footfall of a woman. The key grated in the lock, the door swung back
upon its hinges, and the chief turnkey, followed by Lanzo and the
Abbot, entered the cell.

"Here is the priest," said the jailer, sullenly; "get through your
business as soon as possible, for you must be hung at once. If I am to
have as much trouble with all my other prisoners, in future, I would
rather resign my office now, and have done with it."

"I am entirely at your service, my son," said the Abbot, kindly, as he
approached the prisoner.

"Thanks, holy father," replied Guido; "but you are mistaken if you
expect to find a criminal here!"

"Of course!" exclaimed the jester. "Nowadays they never hang any but
honest men; the scoundrels go scot-free. Come, come, cousin, if for
nothing else, you merit the gallows for being such a tender father, and
touching a fool's heart. God knows it was nothing but pity which
prompted me to get you a confessor."

Without noticing the idle babble of the fool, the prisoner gazed
earnestly upon the Abbot, who seemed deeply grieved at the sight of his
sad condition.

"You have no hardened criminal to deal with," said he, divining the
priest's thoughts. "My sole fault has been that I drew my sword to
resist the bloody despotism of the Emperor. I feel confident that you
have not visited the camp of Barbarossa to encourage the crimes and
errors of the heretic, for your calm and pious eyes show clearly that
you are