They stopped at a door. Voices were heard from within: their hollow tones filled Matilda’s soul with unconquerable tremors. But she summoned all her resolution—she resolved to be collected during the trial; and even, if sentenced to death, to meet her fate with fortitude, that the populace, as they gazed, might not exclaim—“The poor Laurentini dared not to die.”
These thoughts were passing in her mind during the delay which was occasioned by the officials conversing with another whom they met there.
At last they ceased—an uninterrupted silence reigned: the immense folding doors were thrown open, and disclosed to Matilda’s view a vast and lofty apartment. In the centre was a table, which a lamp, suspended from the centre, overhung, and where two stern-looking men, habited in black vestments, were seated.
Scattered papers covered the table, with which the two men in black seemed busily employed.
Two officials conducted Matilda to the table where they sat, and, retiring, left her there.
CHAPTER XVI.
“Fear, for their scourge, mean villains have;
Thou art the torturer of the brave.”
Marmion.
One of the inquisitors raised his eyes; he put back the papers which he was examining, and in a solemn tone asked her name.