Giulia felt partially relieved by this assurance: and it was with ill-concealed delight that she acknowledged the ceremonial bow with which the bandit-chief intimated his readiness to depart.
But at that moment three low and distinct knocks were heard at the little door behind the arras.
Giulia’s countenance became suffused with blushes: then, instantly recovering her presence of mind, she said in a rapid, earnest tone, “He who is coming knows nothing concerning the jewels, and will be surprised to find a stranger with me. Perhaps he may even recognize you—perhaps he knows you by sight——”
“What would you have me do, lady?” demanded Stephano. “Speak, and I obey you.”
“Conceal yourself—here—and I will soon release you.”
She raised the tapestry on the side opposite to that by which Stephano had entered the room; and the robber-chief hid himself in the wide interval between the hangings in the wall.
All this had scarcely occupied a minute; and Giulia now hastened to open the private door, which instantly gave admittance to the young, handsome, and dissipated Marquis of Orsini.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE LOVE OF WOMAN—GIULIA AND HER LOVER.
Silence, and calmness, and moonlight were without the walls of the Arestino villa; for the goddess of night shone sweetly but coldly on the city of Florence, and asserted her empire even over the clouds that ere now had seemed laden with storm. Nor beamed she there alone—that fair Diana; for a countless host of handmaidens—the silver-faced stars—had spread themselves over the deep purple sky; and there—there—they all shone in subdued and modest glory—those myriads of beacons floating on the eternal waves of that far-off and silent sea!
Shine on, sweet regent of the night—and ye, too, silver-faced stars, whose countenances are reflected and multiplied endlessly, as they are rocked to and fro, on the deep blue bosom of the Arno; while on the banks of that widely-famed stream, Nature herself, as if wearied of her toils, appears to be sleeping.