When the carriage stopped, after a long drive, Lucia was hurried into a litter, which bore her up a steep hill to a castle, where she was shut up in a room with an old crone.  After a while a resounding knock was heard on the door, and the Unnamed strode in.

Casting a glance around, he discovered Lucia crouched down on the floor in a corner.

“Come, get up!” he said to her.

The unhappy girl raised herself on her knees, and raised her hands to him.

“Oh, what have I done to you?  Where am I?  Why do you make me suffer the agonies of hell?  In the name of God—­”

“God!” interrupted he; “always God!  They who cannot defend themselves must always bring forward this God.  What do you expect by this word?  To make me—­”

“Oh, signor, what can a poor girl like me expect, except that you should have mercy upon me?  God pardons so many sins for one deed of mercy.  For charity’s sake, let me go!  I will pray for you all my life.  Oh, see, you are moved to pity!  Say one word; oh, say it!  God pardons so many sins for one deed of mercy!”

“Oh, why isn’t she the daughter of one of the dogs who outlawed me?” thought the Unnamed.  “Then I should enjoy her sufferings; but instead—­”

“Don’t drive away a good inspiration!” continued Lucia earnestly, seeing a certain hesitation in his face.

“Perhaps some day even you—­But no—­no, I will always pray the Lord to keep you from every evil.”

“Come, take courage,” said the Unnamed, with unusual gentleness.  “Have I done you any harm?  To-morrow morning—­”

“Oh set me free now!”

“To-morrow I will see you again.”

When he left her, the unhappy girl flung herself on her knees.  “O most holy Virgin,” she prayed, “thou to whom I have so often recommended myself, and who hast so often comforted me!  Bring me out of this danger, bring me safely to my mother, and I vow unto thee to continue a virgin!  I renounce for ever my unfortunate betrothed, that I may belong only to thee!”

The Unnamed retired for the night, but not to sleep.  “God pardons so many sins for one deed of mercy!” kept ringing in his ears.  Suppose there was a God, after all?  He had so many sins in need of pardon.

About daybreak a confused murmur reached his ear from the valley below; a distant chiming of bells began to make itself heard; nearer bells took up the peal, until the whole air rang with the sound.  He demanded the cause of all this rejoicing, and was informed that Cardinal Boromeo had arrived, and that the festival was in his honour.

He went to Lucia’s apartment, and found her still huddled up in a corner, but sleeping.  The hag explained that she could not be prevailed upon to go to bed.

“Then let her sleep.  When she wakes, tell her that I will do all she wishes.”

Leaving the castle with rapid steps, the Unnamed hastened to the village where the cardinal had rested the previous night.