"Oh, do not separate us. Tie us. Bind us. Fasten us with chains.
Fasten me with chains, but leave me with her."
"Chains? nonsance; dat is impossibile. Chains? no, miladi. You sall be treat beautiful. No chain, no; notin but affection--till to-morra, an"
den de mees sall be my wife. De priest haf come, an" it sall be allaright to-morra, an" you sall be wit her again. An" now you haf to come away; for if you do not be pleasant, I sall not be able to "low you to stay to-morra wit de mees when se become my Contessa."
Mrs. Willoughby flung her arms about her sister, and clasped her in a convulsive embrace.
"Well, Kitty darling," said Minnie, "don"t cry, or you"ll make me cry too. It"s just what we might have expected, you know. He"s been as unkind as he could be about the chair, and of course he"ll do all he can to tease me. Don"t cry, dear. You must go, I suppose, since that horrid man talks and scolds so about it; only be sure to be back early; but how I am _ever_ to pa.s.s the night here all alone and standing up, I"m sure _I_ don"t know."
"Alone? Oh no," said Girasole. "Charming mees, you sall not be alone; I haf guard for dat. I haf sent for a maid."
"But I don"t want any of your horrid old maids. I want my own maid, or none at all."
"Se sall be your own maid. I haf sent for her."
"What, my own maid?--Dowlas?"
"I am ver sorry, but it is not dat one. It is anoder--an Italian."
"Well, I think that is _very_ unkind, when you _know_ I can"t speak a word of the language. But you _always_ do all you can to tease me. I _wish_ I had never seen you."
Girasole looked hurt.
"Charming mees," said he, "I will lay down my life for you."
"But I don"t want you to lay down your life. I want Dowlas."
"And you sall haf Dowlas to-morra. An" to-night you sall haf de Italian maid."
"Well, I suppose I must," said Minnie, resignedly.
"Miladi," said Girasole, turning to Mrs. Willoughby, "I am ver sorry for dis leetle accommodazion. De room where you mus go is de one where I haf put de man dat try to safe you. He is tied fast. You mus promis you will not loose him. Haf you a knife?"
"No," said Mrs. Willoughby, in a scarce audible tone.
"Do not mourn. You sall be able to talk to de prisonaire and get consolazion. But come."
With these words Girasole led the way out into the hall, and into the front-room on the opposite side. He carried the lamp in his hand. Mrs.
Willoughby saw a figure lying at the other end of the room on the floor. His face was turned toward them, but in the darkness she could not see it plainly. Some straw was heaped up in the corner next her.
"Dere," said Girasole, "is your bed. I am sorra. Do not be trouble."
With this he went away.
Mrs. Willoughby flung herself on her knees, and bowed her head and wept convulsively. She heard the heavy step of Girasole as he went down stairs. Her first impulse was to rush back to her sister. But she dreaded discovery, and felt that disobedience would only make her fate harder.
CHAPTER XXIX.
FOUND AT LAST.
In a few moments Girasole came back and entered Minnie"s room. He was followed by a woman who was dressed in the garb of an Italian peasant girl. Over her head she wore a hood to protect her from the night air, the limp folds of which hung over her face. Minnie looked carelessly at this woman and then at Girasole.
"Charming mees," said Girasole, "I haf brought you a maid for dis night. When we leaf dis you sall haf what maid you wis."
"That horrid old fright!" said Minnie. "I don"t want her."
"You sall only haf her for dis night," said Girasole. "You will be taken care for."
"I suppose n.o.body cares for what _I_ want," said Minnie, "and I may as well speak to the wall, for all the good it does."
[Ill.u.s.tration: "ONE ARM WENT AROUND HER NECK."]
Girasole smiled and bowed, and put his hand on his heart, and then called down the stairs:
"Padre Patricio!"
A solid, firm step now sounded on the stairs, and in a few moments the priest came up. Girasole led the way into Hawbury"s room. The prisoner lay on his side. He was in a deep sleep. Girasole looked in wonder at the sleeper who was spending in this way the last hours of his life, and then pointed to the coffin.
"Here," said he, in Italian, "is the body. When the grave is dug they will tell you. You must stay here. You will not be afraid to be with the dead."
The priest smiled.
Girasole now retreated and went down stairs.
Soon all was still.
The Italian woman had been standing where she had stopped ever since she first came into the room. Minnie had not paid any attention to her, but at last she noticed this.
"I _wish_ you wouldn"t stand there in that way. You really make me feel quite nervous. And what with the dark, and not having any light, and losing poor dear Kitty, and not having any chair to sit upon, really one"s life is scarce worth having. But all this is thrown away, as you can"t speak English--and how horrid it is to have no one to talk to."
The woman made no reply, but with a quiet, stealthy step she drew near to Minnie.
"What do you want? You horrid creature, keep away," said Minnie, drawing back in some alarm.
"Minnie dear!" said the woman. "H-s-s-s-h!" she added, in a low whisper.
Minnie started.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
One arm went around her neck, and another hand went over her mouth, and the woman drew nearer to her.
"Not a word. H-s-s-s-h! I"ve risked my life. The priest brought me."