“My lord,” answered Flora, in a firmer tone than might have been expected from the feelings indicated by her outward appearance, “when on a former occasion I stood in the presence of your eminence, I expressed my belief that secret enemies were conspiring, for their own bad purposes, to ruin my beloved relative and myself; and yet I call Heaven to witness my solemn declaration that knowingly and willfully we have wronged no one by word or deed.”
“Young woman,” exclaimed the grand inquisitor, “thou hast answered my questions evasively. Wast thou not an inmate of that most holy sanctuary, the convent of Carmelite nuns? wast thou not there the companion of Giulia of Arestino? did not a sacrilegious horde of miscreants break into the convent, headed or at least accompanied by a certain Manuel d’Orsini who was the lover of the countess? was not this invasion of the sacred place undertaken to rescue that guilty woman? and did she not find an asylum at the abode of your aunt, doubtless with your connivance, until the day of her arrest?”
“None of those circumstances, my lord,” replied Flora, “do I attempt to deny: but it is so easy to give them a variety of colorings, some of which, alas! may seem most unfavorable to my venerable relative and to myself. Oh, my lord, do with me what thou wilt,” exclaimed Flora, clasping her hands together in a single paroxysm of anguish; “but release that aged woman, suffer not my beloved aunt—my more than mother to be thus persecuted! have mercy, my lord, upon her—oh! have mercy, great judge, upon her.”
“Flora—dearest Flora,” cried Dame Francatelli, the tears trickling fast down her countenance, “I do not wish to leave you—I do not seek to be set free—I will stay in this dreadful place so long as you remain a prisoner also; for though we are separated——”
“Woman,” exclaimed the grand inquisitor, not altogether unmoved by this touching scene, “the tribunal cannot take heed of supplications and prayers of an impassioned nature. It has to do with facts, not feelings.”
At this moment there was a slight sensation amongst the familiars stationed near the door of the judgment-hall; and an individual who had just entered the court, and who wore the black robe and the cap or toque of a counselor, advanced toward the grand inquisitor.
“My lord,” said the advocate, with a reverential bow, “the day after the arrest of these females, I submitted to the council of state a memorial, setting forth certain facts which induced the president of the council to issue his warrant to order the postponement of the second examination of the two prisoners now before your eminence, until this day.”
“And the case has been postponed accordingly,” answered the grand inquisitor. “It will now proceed, unless reasonable cause be shown for further delay. The prisoners are obstinate. Instead of confessing their heinous crimes, and throwing themselves on the mercy of Heaven—for past the hope of human mercy they are—they assuredly break forth into impassioned language, savoring of complaint. Indeed, the younger attributes to the machinations of unknown enemies the position in which she is placed. Yet have we positive proof that she was leagued with those who perpetrated the sacrilege which ended in the destruction of the Carmelite Convent; and the elder prisoner gave refuge not only to the young girl, her niece, but also to a woman more guilty still—thus rendering herself infamous as one who encouraged and concealed the enemies of the church, instead of giving them up to the most holy inquisition. Wherefore,” continued the grand inquisitor, “it remaineth only for me to order the prisoners to be put to the torture, that they may confess their crimes and receive the condemnation which they merit.”
At the terrible word “torture,” Dame Francatelli uttered a cry of agony—but it was even more on account of her beloved niece than herself; while Flora, endowed with greater firmness than her aunt, would have flown to console and embrace her, had not the familiars cruelly compelled the young maiden to retain her place.
“My lord,” said Angelo Duras—for he was the advocate who appeared on behalf of the prisoners—“I formally and earnestly demand a delay of eight days ere this final examination be proceeded with.”