"Do not be afraid, Signorina. No one comes here during the day."
"Hush! what is that?"
Infected by her terror my heart gave a jump, and I listened intently, but could hear no sound.
"It is nothing, Signorina. Your nerves are unstrung!"
"No! No! I can hear it. Some one is coming. Listen!"
In order to humour her fancy I remained silent with all my senses on the alert, and with a feeling of dread I heard the sound. The light fall of footsteps, the rustle of a silken dress--a dress!--the full horror of the situation rushed on me at once.
"It must be the Contessa Morone!"
In a moment I had blown out all the candles, and, dragging Bianca with me, retreated in the darkness to the far end of the room. The girl gave a little cry as the lights disappeared, but I pressed her hand significantly.
"Hush, Signorina. Not a word!"
At the time I heard the steps they were at the door of the ante-chamber, where the new-comer was evidently pausing a moment, and as the curtains of the inner room had been half drawn aside on our entrance, it was for this reason we had heard them so clearly. The steps recommenced. I heard their soft, light fall on the marble floor, the rustle of the silken gown, like the sound of dry leaves in an autumnal wind, and then I felt that this woman was standing in the arched doorway, looking straight at myself and the shrinking girl through the darkness.