It was beneath the Palazzo del Podesta that the dungeons of the criminal prison and also those of the inquisition were situated.
In a cell belonging to the former department, Fernand Wagner was already a captive; and Isaachar ben Solomon now became the inmate of a narrow, cold, and damp stone chamber, in that division of the subterrane which was within the jurisdiction of the holy office.
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE VISIT OF THE BANDITTI TO THE RIVEROLA PALACE.
It was Monday night, and within an hour of the time appointed by Stephano for the meditated invasion of the Riverola Palace.
Francisco had already retired to rest, for he was wearied with vain and ineffectual wandering about the city and its environs in search of some trace that might lead him to discover his lost Flora.
Indeed, the few days which had now elapsed since her mysterious disappearance had been passed by the young count in making every possible inquiry and adopting every means which imagination could suggest to obtain a clew to her fate. But all in vain. And never for a moment did he suspect that she might be an inmate of the Carmelite Convent, for, although he was aware of the terrible power wielded by that institution, yet feeling convinced that Flora herself was incapable of any indiscretion, it never struck him that the wicked machinations of another might place her in the custody of the dreaded Carmelite abbess.
We said that Francisco had retired to rest somewhat early on the above-mentioned night, and the domestics, yielding to the influence of a soporific which Antonio, the faithless valet, had infused into the wine which it was his province to deal out to them under the superintendence of the head butler, had also withdrawn to their respective chambers.
Nisida had dismissed her maids shortly before eleven, but she did not seek her couch. There was an expression of wild determination, of firm resolve, in her dark black eyes and her compressed lips which denoted the courage of her dauntless but impetuous mind. For of that mind the large piercing eyes seemed an exact transcript.
Terrible was she in the decision of her masculine—oh! even more than masculine—character, for beneath that glorious beauty with which she was arrayed beat a heart that scarcely knew compunction, or that, at all events, would hesitate at nothing calculated to advance her interests or her projects.
Though devoured with ardent passions, and of a temperament naturally voluptuous and sensual even to an extreme, she had hitherto remained chaste, as much for want of opportunity to assuage the cravings of her mad desires, as through a sentiment of pride—but since she had loved Wagner—the first and only man whom she had ever loved—her warm imagination had excited those desires to such a degree, that she felt capable of making any sacrifice, save one—to secure him to herself.