“I remember them well,” returned the Tribune:  “‘I leave thee,’ I said, ’to keep alive at the Emperor’s Court, by thy genius, the Great Cause.  Thou hast youth and beauty—­and courts have lawless and ruffian suitors.  I give thee no caution; it were beneath thee and me.  But I leave thee the power of death.’  And with that, Nina—­”

“Thy hands tremblingly placed in mine this dagger.  I live—­need I say more?”

“My noble and beloved Nina, it is enough.  Keep the dagger yet.”

“Yes; till we meet in the Capitol of Rome!”

A slight tap was heard at the door; Nina regained, in an instant, her disguise.

“It is on the stroke of midnight,” said the gaoler, appearing at the threshold.

“I come,” said Nina.

“And thou hast to prepare thy thoughts,” she whispered to Rienzi:  “arm all thy glorious intellect.  Alas! is it again we part?  How my heart sinks!”

The presence of the gaoler at the threshold broke the bitterness of parting by abridging it.  The false page pressed her lips on the prisoner’s hand, and left the cell.

The gaoler, lingering behind for a moment, placed a parchment on the table.  It was the summons from the court appointed for the trial of the Tribune.

Chapter 7.VI.  The Scent Does Not Lie.—­The Priest and the Soldier.

On descending the stairs, Nina was met by Alvarez.

“Fair page,” said the Spaniard, gaily, “thy name, thou tellest me, is Villani?—­Angelo Villani—­why I know thy kinsman, methinks.  Vouchsafe, young master, to enter this chamber, and drink a night-cup to thy lady’s health; I would fain learn tidings of my old friends.”

“At another time,” answered the false Angelo, drawing the cloak closer round her face; “it is late—­I am hurried.”

“Nay,” said the Spaniard, “you escape me not so easily;” and he caught firm hold of the page’s shoulder.

“Unhand me, sir!” said Nina, haughtily, and almost weeping, for her strong nerves were yet unstrung.  “Gaoler, at thy peril—­unbar the gates.”

“So hot,” said Alvarez, surprised at so great a waste of dignity in a page; “nay, I meant not to offend thee.  May I wait on thy pageship tomorrow?”

“Ay, tomorrow,” said Nina, eager to escape.

“And meanwhile,” said Alvarez, “I will accompany thee home—­we can confer by the way.”

So saying, without regarding the protestations of the supposed page, he passed with Nina into the open air.  “Your lady,” said he, carelessly, “is wondrous fair; her lightest will is law to the greatest noble of Avignon.  Methinks she is of Naples—­is it so?  Art thou dumb, sweet youth?”

The page did not answer, but with a step so rapid that it almost put the slow Spaniard out of breath, hastened along the narrow space between the tower and the palace of the Signora Cesarini, nor could all the efforts of Alvarez draw forth a single syllable from his reluctant companion, till they reached the gates of the palace, and he found himself discourteously left without the walls.