Agnes looked round and smiled on her,—a smile full of innocent trust,—and then, turning, followed the servant into the finest of the equipages, where she was lost to view.
Elsie was almost wild with fear and impotent rage; but a low, impressive voice now spoke in her ear. It came from the white figure which had followed them in the morning.
"Listen," it said, "and be quiet; don't turn your head, but hear what I tell you. Your child is followed by those who will save her. Go your ways whence you came. Wait till the hour after the Ave Maria, then come to the Porta San Sebastiano, and all will be well."
When Elsie turned to look she saw no one, but caught a distant glimpse of a white figure vanishing in the crowd. She returned to her asylum, wondering and disconsolate, and the first person whom she saw was old Mona.
"Well, good-morrow, sister!" she said. "Know that I am here on a strange errand. The Princess has taken such a liking to you that nothing will do but we must fetch you and your little one out to her villa. I looked everywhere for you in church this morning. Where have you hid yourselves?"
"We were there," said Elsie, confused, and hesitating whether to speak of what had happened.
"Well, where is the little one? Get her ready; we have horses in waiting. It is a good bit out of the city."
"Alack!" said Elsie, "I know not where she is."
"Holy Virgin!" said Mona, "how is this?"
Elsie, moved by the necessity which makes it a relief to open the heart to some one, sat down on the steps of the church and poured forth the whole story into the listening ear of Mona.