abbess remembered that Lorenza had locked the door behind her, and consequently that she could not be prevailed upon except by her own will to come out. No longer trying to dissimulate her vexation at having been lying uselessly to this man, from whom nothing could be concealed, she said:
"Were she to enter, what would be done to her?"
"Nothing, your highness; she will merely tell you that she wishes to go with her husband."
This encouraged the princess, recalling the Italian woman's protests.
"It would seem that your highness does not believe me," said the count, in answer to her apparent indignation. "Is there anything incredible in Count Fenix marrying Lorenza Feliciani, and claiming his wife. I can easily lay before your royal highness's eyes the marriage certificate, properly signed by the priest who performed the ceremony."
The princess started, for such calmness shook her conviction. He opened a portfolio and took out a twice-folded paper.
"This is the proof of my claim on my wife," he said; "the signature ought to carry belief. It is that of the curate of St. John's in Strasburg, well-known to Prince Louis of Rohan for one, and were his eminence the cardinal here——"
"He is here at this very time," exclaimed the abbess, fastening fiery looks on the count. "His eminence has not left the abbey, where he is with the cathedral canons; so nothing is more easy than the verification you challenge."
"This is a great boon to me," said the count, coolly replacing the document in the pocket-book. "I hope this verification will dispel your royal highness' unjust suspicions against me."
"Indeed, impudence does disgust me," said the princess, ringing her hand bell quickly.
The nun in waiting entered hastily.
"Send my courier to carry this note to Cardinal Rohan, who is in the cathedral chapter. Let his eminence come hither, as I await him."
While speaking she scribbled a couple of lines on paper which she handed the nun, whispering:
"Post two archers of the rural guard in the corridor, and let not a soul issue without my leave. Go!"
The count had watched all the princess' preparations to fight out the battle with him. While she was writing, he approached the inner room, and he muttered some words while extending and working his hands in a movement more methodical than nervous, with his eyes fastened on the door. The princess, turning, caught him in the act.
"Madame," said the count, "I am adjuring Lorenza Feliciani to come personally and confirm by her own words and by her free will whether I am or not a forger and an impostor, without prejudice to the other proofs your highness may exact. Lorenza," called out the count, rising above all—even to the princess' will, "come forth!"
The key grated in the lock and the princess beheld with unspeakable apprehension the coming of the Italian beauty. Her eyes were fixed on the count, with no show of hatred or anger.
"What are you doing, child," faltered the Lady Louise, "and why do you come to the man whom you shunned? I told you that you were in safety there."
"She is also in safety in my house, my lady," replied the nobleman. "Are you not in safety there, Lorenza," he demanded of the refugee.
"Yes," was the other's answer.
At the height of amazement the princess clasped her hands and dropped into her chair.
"Lorenza," went on the count, in a soft voice but one with the accent of command, "I am accused of doing you violence. Tell me if I have ever acted so toward you?"
"Never," replied the woman, in a clear and precise voice but without any gesture accompanying the denial.
"Then what did the story about the abduction mean?" questioned the princess.
Lorenza remained dumb, but looking at the count as though all her life, and speech—which is its expression—must come from him.
"Her highness doubtless wishes to know how you came to leave your nunnery. Relate what happened from your fainting in the choir until you awoke in our postchaise."
"I remember," said Lorenza in the same monotonous voice.
"Speak, for I wish it."
"When I fainted, as the scissors touched my hair, I was carried into my cell, and placed in bed. My mother stayed with me until evening, when the village doctor declared that I was dead."
"How did you know this?" inquired the princess.
"Her highness wishes to know how you were aware of what went on," said the count.
"Strange thing!" said Lorenza, "I could see and hear but without having my eyes open. I was in a trance."
"In fact," said the abbess, "I have heard Doctor Tronchin speak of patients in catalepsy who were buried alive."
"Proceed Lorenza."
"My mother was in despair and would not believe in my death. She passed six-and thirty hours beside me, without my making a move or uttering a sigh. The priest came three times and told my mother that she was wrong to dispute the interment as her daughter had passed away just as she was speaking the vow, and that my soul had gone straight from the altar to heaven. But my mother insisted on watching all Monday night.
"Tuesday morning I was in the same insensibility, and my mother retired, vanquished. The nuns hooted her for the sacrilege.
"The death-candles were lighted in the chapel, where the custom was for the exposure of the body to repose a day and a night.
"I was shrouded, dressed in white, as I had not taken the vow; my hands crossed on my bosom, and a wreath of white blossoms placed on my brow.
"When the coffin was brought in, I felt a shiver pass over my body; for, I repeat, I saw all that happened as though I were my second self standing invisibly beside my counter-part.
"I was placed in the coffin, and after my time of lying in state, left with only the hospital sister to watch me.
"A dreadful thought tormented me in this lethargy—that I should be buried living on the morrow unless some interposition came.
"Each stroke of the time bell echoed in my heart, for I was listening—doleful idea! to my own death-knell.
"Heaven alone knows what efforts I made to break the iron bonds which held me down on the bier; but it had pity on me in my frozen sleep, since here I am.
"Midnight rang.
"At the first stroke, I felt that convulsion experienced whenever Acharat approached me; a shock came to my heart; I saw him appear in the chapel doorway."
"Was it fright that you felt?" asked Count Fenix.
"No, no; it was joy, bliss, ecstasy, for I knew that he came to tear me from the desperate death which I so abhorred. Slowly he came up to my coffin; he smiled on me as he gazed for a moment, and he said:
"'Are you glad to live? Then come with me.'
"All the bonds snapped at his call; I rose, extricated myself from the bier as from the grave clothes, and passed by the slumbering nun. I followed him who for the second time had snatched me from death.
"Out in the courtyard I beheld the sky spangled with stars which never more had I expected to see. I felt that cool night air which blesses not the dead, but which is so refreshing to the living.
"'Now,' said my liberator, 'before quitting the convent, choose between it and me. Will you be a nun, or will you be my wife?' I wanted to be his wife, and I followed him.
"The tower gate was closed and locked. He asked where were the keys, and as I said in the pocket of the wardress, who slept within, he sent me there to get them.
"Five minutes after we were in the street. I took his arm and we ran to the end of Subiaco village. A hundred paces beyond the last house a postchaise was waiting, all ready. We got in, and off it went at a gallop."
"And