"Oh, how could he come to this terrible place at night!" she cried, crossing herself, with a look of fear in her eyes. "Desolate as it is in the sun, what must it be when the moon shines! It is an abode of the dead--a tomb--a tomb! Dio! his tomb."
"Signorina, do not affright yourself thus! Things may not be so bad as you think."
"It is like the Inferno of Dante! and turns my blood cold with fear; but I will not go back! I must find Guiseppe, even if it cost me my life. Come, Signor, presto! there is no time to lose."
She crossed herself once more, then flitted through the opening in the iron gate like a noiseless-winged bird, upon which I hastily followed her, and we stood for a moment in the lonely courtyard, gazing at the great portals of the door leading to the hall, which stood half-open.
"Signorina, I will lead you to the room. You are not afraid? You do not tremble?"
"Ah! I am afraid, and I do tremble, Signor, for I am only a girl; but lead on, love will make me strong, and you will protect me. Give me your hand, Signor; I am not afraid when I hold your hand."
With a fleeting smile on her pale lips, she placed her hand in mine, and as I grasped its cold whiteness, I guessed how terrified this delicate, superstitious girl was of this unholy place. But for the resolute look on her pallid face, I would have insisted upon her turning back; but it was useless to urge retreat now, so with the name "Guiseppe! Guiseppe!" on her lips, as if to inspire her with courage, she almost dragged me through the half-closed door into the hall of shadows.
"Ah! Mother Mary, it is like a church!"
It was like a church--like some old deserted church, filled with the chill atmosphere of the grave; and the slow movement of the wind-shaken tapestries, the glimmer of the ghostly white stairs in the dim distance, and the solemnity of the huge pillars of black marble, made me think of those God-cursed cities of the "Thousand and One Nights," whose silence is only broken by the voice of the one survivor chanting the melancholy verses of the Koran. Bianca, overpowered by this mute spectacle of a dead past, clung convulsively to my arm with faltering prayers on her lips, and I became afraid lest, by a feeling of sympathy, her terror should unnerve me also, so with a cheerful laugh, which echoed dismally through the vast vestibule, I led her onward towards the grand staircase.
"Come, Signorina, do not be afraid. You are quite safe with me."