Savage men; sodden men—good, bad and indifferent! Like ants thronging about the hill, they straightway streamed to the Mount; took possession of it, or as much as lay open to them; for around the top, chosen abode of the Governor, extended a wall; grim, dark and ominous; bristling with holes which seemed to look blackly down; to watch, to listen and to frown. Without that pretentious line of encircling masonry, the usual din, accompaniment to the day and the presence of so many people, prevailed; within, reigned silence, a solemn hush, unbroken by even a sentinel's tread.
"I shall be glad when it's all over!" Standing at the window of her chamber the Lady Elise had paused in dressing to look out upon the throng—a thousand clots upon the sand, dark moving masses in the narrow byways, and motionless ones near the temporary altars.
"Oh, my Lady!" Her companion, and former nurse, a woman about fifty years of age, ventured this mild expostulation.
"There, Marie! You can go!"
"Yes, your Ladyship—"
"One moment!" The slender figure turned. "This fastening—"
In an instant the woman was by her side.
"Have you heard anything more about the prisoners, Marie?" abruptly. "Those who were tried, I mean?"
"Nothing—only Beppo said they are to be hanged day after to-morrow—when the pilgrimage is over."
"Day after to-morrow!" The brown eyes looked hard and bright; the small white teeth pressed her lip. "And the man my fa—the Governor had—whipped from the Mount—you have heard nothing more of him—where he has gone?"