fretful on account of clean linen and the liberty which fluttered the
prospect of it, to think much upon what her fate might be: perhaps a
beating, perhaps the knife. But the vileness of wearing one shirt two
months and more had hardened his heart; and though he was considerate
enough not to prompt his companion very impatiently, he submitted
desperate futile schemes to him, and suggested--"To-night?--tomorrow?--
the next day?" Rinaldo did not heed him. He lay on his couch like one
who bleeds inwardly, thinking of the complacent faithfulness of that poor
creature's face. Barto Rizzo had sworn to him that there should be a
rising in Milan before the month was out; but he had lost all confidence
in Milanese risings. Ammiani would be removed, if he delayed; and he
knew that the moment his letter reached Lugano, Angelo would start for
Milan and claim to surrender in his stead. The woman came, and went
forth, and Rinaldo did not look at her until his resolve was firm.

He said to Wilfrid in her presence, "Swear that you will reveal nothing
of this house."

Wilfrid spiritedly pronounced his gladdest oath.

"It is dark in the streets," Rinaldo addressed the woman. "Lead us out,
for the hour has come when I must go."

She clutched her hands below her bosom to stop its great heaving, and
stood as one smitten by the sudden hearing of her sentence. The sight
was pitiful, for her face scarcely changed; the anguish was
expressionless. Rinaldo pointed sternly to the door.

"Stay," Wilfrid interposed. "That wretch may be in the house, and will
kill her."