"In this case I retain neither of you," said the princess, "for it would be running counter to my feelings. But, if there be anything in all this out of the natural order of things, may the divine punishment fall on whomsoever disturbs the
harmony of nature for his profit or interests. Go, my Lord Count Fenix; and you, Lorenza Feliciani—I detain you no more. But take back your jewels."
"They are for the poor," replied Balsamo; "distributed by your hands, the alms will be doubly agreeable to God. All I ask is to have my horse Djerid."
"Take him as you go forth. Begone!"
Bowing to the speaker, the count presented his arm to Lorenza, who leaned upon it and walked out without a word.
"Alas, my lord cardinal," sighed the abbess, sadly shaking her head, "in the very air we breathe are fatal and incomprehensible things!"
[CHAPTER XXXIV.]
NEAR NEIGHBORS.
On parting from young Taverney, Gilbert had plunged into the crowd. But not with a heart bounding with glee and expectation—rather with the soul ulcerated by grief which the noble's kind welcome and obliging offers of assistance could not mollify.