supporting her in his arms; the
attendants also came running in. "My dearest Adelaide, what is it that
excites you thus?" But his inquiries were in vain. She lay in his arms,
sobbing convulsively, and clinging to him as if in terror. Broken words
came from her at length: "I looked up--when you were away--and saw--there, in
that darkened recess--_her_. I did--I did, Giovanni!"

"Whom?" he said becoming very pale.

"Her--Gina Montani. She was in white--a long dress it seemed. Oh! Giovanni,
leave me not again."

"I will never leave you, Adelaide. But this--it must have been a fancy--an
illusion of the imagination. We had just been speaking of her."

"You remember," she sobbed, "the night our child died--nurse saw the same
spectre. It may--"

The lady's voice failed her, and her husband started, for a rapid change
was taking place in her countenance.

"I am dying, Giovanni," she said, clinging to him, and trembling with
nervous terror. "Oh, support me! A doctor--a priest--Father Anselmo--where
are they? He gave me absolution, he said. Then why does the remembrance of
the deed come back again now? They would not have done it without my
sanction. Giovanni, my husband--protect and love our child--desert him
never. Giovanni, I say, can they indeed forgive--or does it rest above? If
so, oh! why did I have her killed? Giovanni, who is it--Father
Anselmo?--God?--_who_ is to forgive me? It _was_ murder! Giovanni, where are
you? My sight is going--Giovanni--" Her voice died away, and the count bowed
his head in his anguish, whilst the attendants pressed forwards to look at
her countenance. The Lady Adelaide had passed to another world!

VI.

It was years after the death of Lady Adelaide, that workmen were making
some alterations in the Castle of Visinara, preparatory to the second
marriage of its lord, who was about to espouse the lovely Elena di
Capella. They were taking down the walls of a secret passage, or corridor,
leading out of the chapel to the neighboring monastery. Standing, looking
on, was the count, still, to all appearance, youthful, though he was, in
reality, some years past thirty, but his features were of a cast that do
not quickly take the signs of age. By his side stood a fair boy of seven
years old--his heir--open-hearted, engaging, with a smiling countenance, on
which might be traced his father's features, whilst he had inherited his
mother's soft blue eyes and her sunny hair.

"What a while yo