“Charming mees,” said Girasole, “I haf brought you a maid for dis night.  When we leaf dis you sall haf what maid you wis.”

“That horrid old fright!” said Minnie.  “I don’t want her.”

“You sall only haf her for dis night,” said Girasole.  “You will be taken care for.”

“I suppose nobody cares for what I want,” said Minnie, “and I may as well speak to the wall, for all the good it does.”

[Illustration:  “ONE ARM WENT AROUND HER NECK.”]

Girasole smiled and bowed, and put his hand on his heart, and then called down the stairs: 

“Padre Patricio!”

A solid, firm step now sounded on the stairs, and in a few moments the priest came up.  Girasole led the way into Hawbury’s room.  The prisoner lay on his side.  He was in a deep sleep.  Girasole looked in wonder at the sleeper who was spending in this way the last hours of his life, and then pointed to the coffin.

“Here,” said he, in Italian, “is the body.  When the grave is dug they will tell you.  You must stay here.  You will not be afraid to be with the dead.”

The priest smiled.

Girasole now retreated and went down stairs.

Soon all was still.

The Italian woman had been standing where she had stopped ever since she first came into the room.  Minnie had not paid any attention to her, but at last she noticed this.

“I wish you wouldn’t stand there in that way.  You really make me feel quite nervous.  And what with the dark, and not having any light, and losing poor dear Kitty, and not having any chair to sit upon, really one’s life is scarce worth having.  But all this is thrown away, as you can’t speak English—­and how horrid it is to have no one to talk to.”

The woman made no reply, but with a quiet, stealthy step she drew near to Minnie.

“What do yon want?  You horrid creature, keep away,” said Minnie, drawing back in some alarm.

“Minnie dear!” said the woman.  “H-s-s-s-h!” she added, in a low whisper.

Minnie started.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

One arm went around her neck, and another hand went over her mouth, and the woman drew nearer to her.

“Not a word.  H-s-s-s-h!  I’ve risked my life.  The priest brought me.”

“Why, my darling, darling love of an Ethel!” said Minnie, who was overwhelmed with surprise.

“H-s-s-s-h!”

“But how can I h-s-s-s-h when I’m so perfectly frantic with delight?  Oh, you darling pet!”

“H-s-s-s-h!  Not another word.  I’ll be discovered and lost.”

“Well, dear, I’ll speak very, very low.  But how did you come here?”

“The priest brought me.”

“The priest?”

“Yes.  He was sent for, you know; and I thought I could help you, and he is going to save you.”

“He!  Who?”

“The priest, you know.”

“The priest!  Is he a Roman Catholic priest, Ethel darling?”