"It is he!--he is coming--he is coming," cried Hermengarde, excitedly. "See how the holy man hastens. No! his is not the air of a messenger of evil; it is mercy and pardon that he will announce! My father!--oh, my father!" said she, embracing Bonello, and smiling through her tears.
"You are right, perhaps, my child; but wait a moment."
"Oh! do not doubt it, it is certain! You are pardoned; a voice from within tells me that I am right!"
The key grated in the lock, and the Abbot entered with a solemn and dejected mien.
"I have come in person," he said, "to communicate the result of my mission. I have only partially succeeded. Sir Knight. But the Emperor has respited you for to-day."
The prisoner was not for an instant deceived by the mild form under which the Abbot veiled his failure. But the childish sentiments of Hermengarde did not take in at once the dread truth.
"Holy Father," said she, "your vague words alarm me. I implore you, tell me clearly if the Emperor has pardoned my father?"
The prelate looked sadly at the young girl.
"At first the Emperor positively refused to listen to my prayers for mercy; however, by my persistent supplications I have attained a satisfactory result."
"Ah! only for to-day!"