'But is he reverenced by those of your creed?' asked Basil in surprise.
'Of my creed? My faith is that of the Catholic Church.'
For the first time their eyes met. Basil drew a step nearer; his face shone with joy, which for a moment held him mute.
'It was in the convent,' added Veranilda, 'that I learnt the truth. They whom I called my enemies wrought this good to me.'
Basil besought her to tell him how she had been carried away from Surrentum, and all that had befallen her whilst she was a prisoner; he declared his ignorance of everything between their last meeting in the Anician villa and the dreadful day which next brought them face to face. As he said this, it seemed to him that Veranilda's countenance betrayed surprise.
'I forget,' he added, his head again falling, 'that your mind has been filled with doubt of me. How can I convince you that I speak truly? O Veranilda!' he exclaimed passionately, 'can you look at me, can you hear me speak, and still believe that I was ever capable of betraying you?'
'That I never believed,' she answered in a subdued voice.
'Yet I saw in your eyes some doubt, some hesitation.'
'Then it was despite myself. The thought that you planned evil against me I have ever cast out and abhorred. Why it was said of you, alas, I know not.'
'What proof was given?' asked Basil, gazing fixedly at her.