"A meal on the table--all this gold and silver. It is a robbers' cave, Signor." "Y--es--I suppose so!" "Come, let us be quick then, or the robbers may arrive." She looked nervously towards the door, but I, taking a candle off the table, reassured her with a gay laugh,-- "Do not be afraid, Signorina. No one comes here during the day." "Hush! what is that?" Infected by her terror my heart gave a jump, and I listened intently, but could hear no sound. "It is nothing, Signorina. Your nerves are unstrung!" "No! No! I can hear it. Some one is coming. Listen!" In order to humour her fancy I remained silent with all my senses on the alert, and with a feeling of dread I heard the sound. The light fall of footsteps, the rustle of a silken dress--a dress!--the full horror of the situation rushed on me at once. "It must be the Contessa Morone!" In a moment I had blown out all the candles, and, dragging Bianca with me, retreated in the darkness to the far end of the room. The girl gave a little cry as the lights disappeared, but I pressed her hand significantly. "Hush, Signorina. Not a word!" At the time I heard the steps they were at the door of the ante-chamber, where the new-comer was evidently pausing a moment, and as the curtains of the inner room had been half drawn aside on our entrance, it was for this reason we had heard them so clearly. The steps recommenced. I heard their soft, light fall on the marble floor, the rustle of the silken gown, like the sound of dry leaves in an autumnal wind, and then I felt that this woman was standing in the arched doorway, looking straight at myself and the shrinking girl through the darkness. "Why are you here, Signor Hugo, and who is that woman?" It was the voice of the Contessa, and I gave a cry of horror as I suddenly remembered how ineffectual the darkness was to conceal us from the eyes of this nyctalopist. Bianca, however, knew nothing of this woman, or of her gift of seeing in the dark; so, overcome with fear at the demoniac power she believed the unknown possessed, she gave a shriek of terror and sank fainting at my feet. "What does this mean?" Again the voice of the Contessa sounded cruel and menacing in its tones; so feeling myself at a disadvantage in the dark, through not possessing the terrible attribute of this woman, I staggered forward and lighted the candles. At once out of the gloom sprang that evil face with a frown on the white brow, a deadly glitter in the cruel eyes, and an ominous tightening of the thin lips. I don't think I can call myself a coward, but at that moment my blood ran cold at the horror of that Medusa-like countenance, and I stood before this phantom of Lucrezia Borgia as if turned into stone, unable to move or speak. The Contessa moved forward to the table and looked at me steadily, with a wicked smile frozen on her red lips. "You do not reply, Signor Hugo; but I begin to understand. You have been here before?" "Yes!"