familiar to the ear of Lucilla Volktman?"

A loud, long shriek burst from the lips of the soothsayer, and she sank at
once lifeless on the ground. Greatly alarmed, and repenting her own
abruptness, Constance hastened to her assistance. She lifted the poor
being, whom she unconsciously had once contributed so deeply to injure,
from the ground; she loosened her dress, and perceived that around her
neck hung a broad ivory necklace wrought with curious characters, and many
uncouth forms and symbols. This evidence that, in deluding others, the
soothsayer deluded herself also, touched and affected the countess; and
while she was still busy in chafing the temples of Lucilla, the Moor,
brought to the spot by that sudden shriek, entered the apartment. She
seemed surprised and terrified at her mistress's condition, and poured
forth, in some tongue unknown to Constance, what seemed to her a volley of
mingled reproach and lamentation. She seized Lady Erpingham's hand,
dashed it indignantly away, and, supporting herself the ashen cheek of
Lucilla, motioned to Lady Erpingham to depart; but Constance, not easily
accustomed to obey, retained her position beside the still insensible
Lucilla; and now, by slow degrees, and with quick and heavy sighs, the
unfortunate daughter of Volktman returned to life and consciousness.

In assisting Lucilla, the countess had thrown aside her veil, and the eyes
of the soothsayer opened upon that superb beauty, which once to see was
never to forget. Involuntarily she again closed her eyes, and groaned
audibly; and then, summoning all her courage, she withdrew her hand from
Constance's clasp, and bade her Moorish handmaid leave them once more
alone.

"So, then," said Lucilla, after a pause, "it is Percy Godolphin's wife; his
English wife, who has come to gaze on the fallen, the degraded Lucilla;