It was a glorious moonlight night in the fair Island of Corsica. Outside in the garden the air was heavy with the scent of southern flowers, and nightingales warbled in a concert of joy. The lovely Lady Elvira, only daughter and heiress of the Duke of Alezzo, leaned over the marble balustrade of the piazza, pensively gazing at the beauty of the scene before her. A scarlet camellia adorned her dark tresses, and round her swan-like neck was wreathed a rope of priceless pearls. She sighed as she gazed at the calm and peaceful landscape, for red riot raged within her heart. "Francesca!" she called to one of her maidens, "has Bernardo not yet returned? I pray you send a page in search of news. 'Tis seldom he tarries so late." "I go, my lady!" and Francesca sped on her errand. Left alone, Elvira paced the piazza with impatient footsteps. A dark figure moving among the flowers below was suddenly seen in the pale moonlight. The lady sprang to the balustrade. "Bernardo! Bernardo! Is it thou?" she whispered in tones tremulous with agitation. But her cheeks blanched, as instead of the longed-for features of her lover appeared the hated visage of her arch enemy Count Bertino. "Ha, ha, lovely lady, at last I have found thee alone! Time allows me not to beat about the bush, and, rough warrior as I am, my suit must be brief. Too long hast thou trifled with me. Redeem thy promise and wed me!" "Never!" moaned Elvira. "My heart is given to another!" "And that other," triumphed the Count, "is now in my power. He lies in my darkest dungeon loaded with chains. Wed me, and he will be restored to liberty. Refuse, and by the tombs of my ancestors he dies the death!" "Wretch!" panted Elvira, "you have trapped me! But have a care! I may yet escape from your toils. Swear, by all you hold sacred, that at the hour of our nuptials Bernardo will be released and sent with a safe convoy to Rome." "I swear! Yet thou shalt not escape!" Great were the preparations for the wedding of the powerful Count Bertino and the heiress Elvira, yet of all the gifts showered upon her the one treasured most by the bride was an emerald ring sent by Albaro, the Moorish alchemist. As she turned it upon her finger she murmured, "'Tis my gate to freedom". Beautiful in her bridal jewels, but pale as a lily, she approached the altar, and uttered the fateful words which bound her to the Count, but as he turned to lift her veil and claim her as his wife-- "It is enough!" she cried, "I have freed him and I pass onward to my rest," and, falling backward to the ground, she expired. Her emerald ring was a poisoned one, and by pressing its points into her fair white hand she had placed herself for ever beyond the power of the cruel and revengeful Count Bertino.