“He lives, Agnes,” was the reply. “I know him well; at this moment he is in Florence!”
“In Florence!” repeated Agnes; and so unexpectedly came this announcement, that her limbs seemed to give way under her, and she would have fallen on the marble pavement, had not the stranger caught her in his arms.
“I will bear her away,” he said; “she has a true friend in me.”
And he was moving off with his senseless burden, when Francisco, struck by a sudden idea, caught him by the elegantly slashed sleeve of his doublet, and whispered thus, in a rapid tone: “From the few, but significant words which fell from that lady’s lips, and from her still more impressive conduct, it would appear, alas! that my deceased father had wronged her. If so, signor, it will be my duty to make her all the reparation that can be afforded in such a case.”
“’Tis well, my lord,” answered the stranger, in a cold and haughty tone. “To-morrow evening I will call upon you at your palace.”
He then hurried on with the still senseless Agnes in his arms; and the Count of Riverola retraced his steps to the immediate vicinity of the coffin.
This scene, which so strangely interrupted the funeral ceremony, and which has taken so much space to describe, did not actually occupy ten minutes from the moment when the young lady first appeared in the church, until that when she was borne away by the handsome stranger. The funeral obsequies were completed; the coffin was lowered into the family vault; the spectators dispersed, and the mourners, headed by the young count, returned in procession to the Riverola mansion, which was situated at no great distance.
CHAPTER V.
THE READING OF THE WILL.
When the mourners reached the palace, Francisco led the way to an apartment where Nisida was awaiting their coming.
Francisco kissed her affectionately upon the forehead; and then took his seat at the head of the table, his sister placing herself on his right hand.