"Ah!" cried the young man, "bid me kill him, and I will do it, madame. You will see me this evening."
"I was wise to waste that drug," she replied, her voice husky with the joy of finding herself so ardently beloved. "The dread of awaking my husband will save us from ourselves."
"I plight my life to you," said the youth as he held her hand.
"If the King desires it, the Pope may annul my marriage; then we may be united," said she, giving him a look full of rapturous hope.
"Here comes Monseigneur," cried the page, hurrying up.
Instantly the gentleman, amazed at the shortness of the time he had spent with his mistress, and at the Count's swift movements, snatched a kiss which the lady could not refuse.
"This evening!" he repeated, as he slipped out of the chapel.
Favored by the darkness, the lover made his way to the great entrance, creeping from pillar to pillar along the shaft of shadow cast across the church by each great column.
An old canon suddenly stepped out of the confessional and seated himself by the Countess, after gently closing the gate, while the page marched gravely up and down outside, with the composure of an assassin.
A glare of light heralded the Count; escorted by a party of friends and retainers carrying torches, he himself held his drawn sword. His gloomy gaze seemed to pierce the darkness, and search the deepest corners of the cathedral.