charms which she knows must cast mine in the shade; but I am
not to be outdone in generosity, and if the Marquess will unmask his
friend I will do the same by mine."

As she spoke she deftly pinioned the nun's hands and snatched off her
mask with a malicious laugh. The Marquess, entering into her humour,
removed Odo's at the same instant, and the latter, turning with a laugh,
found himself face to face with Fulvia Vivaldi. He grew white, and Mary
of the Crucifix sprang forward to catch her friend.

"Good God! What is this?" gasped the Marquess, staring from one to the
other.

A glance of entreaty from Fulvia checked the answer on Odo's lips, and
for a moment there was silence in the room; then Fulvia, breaking away
from her companion, fled out on the terrace. The other was about to
follow; but Odo, controlling himself, stepped between them.

"Madam," said he in a low voice, "I recognise in your companion a friend
of whom I have long had no word. Will you pardon me if I speak with her
alone?"

Sister Mary drew back with a meaning sparkle in her handsome eyes. "Why,
this," she cried, not without a touch of resentment, "is the prettiest
ending imaginable; but what a sly creature, to be sure, to make me think
it was her first assignation!"

Odo, without answering, hastened out on the terrace. It was so dark
after the brightly lit room that for a moment he did not distinguish the
figure which had sprung to the low parapet above the water; and he
stumbled forward just in time to snatch Fulvia back to safety.

"This is madness!" he cried, as she hung upon him trembling.

"The boat," she stammered in a strange sobbing voice--"the boat should
be somewhere below--"

"The boat lies at the water-gate on the other side," he answered.

She drew away from him with a gesture of despair. The struggle with
Sister Mary had disordered her hair and it fell on her white neck in
loosened strands. "My cloak--my mask--" she faltered vaguely, clasping
her hands across her bosom; then suddenly dropped to a seat and burst
into tears. Once before--but in how different a case!--he had seen her
thus thrilled with weeping. Then fate had thrown him humbled at her
feet, now it was she who cried him mercy in every line of her bowed head
and shaken breast; and the thought of that other meeting flooded his
heart with pity.

He knelt before her, seeking her hands. "Fulvia, why do you shrink from
me?" he whispered. But she shook her head and wep