Sixteen days after the conversation between Paul Tennant and Edward Knox, three persons were standing in the court-yard of this villa behind the closed outer doors. The court-yard was large, open to the sky; a stone shield, bearing three carved wolves, was tilted forward on one of the walls; opposite, over a door, there was a headless figure of a man in armor; a small zinc cross over a smaller door marked the entrance to the family chapel. In one corner stood a circular stone well, with a yellow marble parapet supported by grinning masks; in another hung a wire cord that led to a bell above, which was covered by a little turret roof, also bearing a cross. There were no vines or flowers, not a green leaf; the yard was bare, paved with large stones, which, though ancient, were clean; the blades of grass marking the interstices, usual in Italy, were absent here. Of the three persons who stood together near the well, one was a stout woman with a square face, an air of decision and business-like cheerfulness, and pretty hands which she kept crossed on her black dress. The second was a small, thin man of fifty. The third was Paul Tennant. "I have heard your reasons, I am not satisfied with them," Paul was saying; "I must insist upon seeing her." "But consider, pray--when I tell you that she does not _wish_ to see you," said the woman, rubbing her hands together, and then looking at them inspectingly. "How can I be sure of that?" "You have my word for it." "It is as Mrs. Wingate says," interposed the small, thin man, earnestly. His voice was clear and sweet. "Miss Bruce may have said it. But when we have once met--" "Well, I think I'll go in now," interrupted Mrs. Wingate, giving her hands a last rub, looking at them, and then crossing them on her black dress again. "I've given you twenty minutes, but I've a thousand things to do; all the clothes to cut out--fancy! I leave you with Mr. Smith. Good-day." "Instead of leaving me, you had better take me to Miss Bruce," said Paul. She shook her finger at him. "Do you think I'd play her such a trick as that?" She crossed the court, opened a door, and disappeared. Paul turned impatiently to Mr. Smith. "There is something that Miss Bruce must know. Call her down immediately." Mr. Smith was silent. Then he said: "I might evade, but I prefer not to; the lady you speak of has asked our protection, and especially from you; she is soon to be taken into the Holy Church." "So you're a priest, are you?" said Paul, in a fury. "And that woman Wingate is your accomplice? Now I know where to have you!" Mr. Smith did not quail, though Paul's fist was close under his nose. "I am not a priest; Mrs. Wingate is an English lady of fortune, who devotes her life to charitable works. Miss Bruce came to us of her own accord, only three days ago. She was ill and unhappy. Now she is--tranquil." "Is she--is she alive?" said Paul, his voice suddenly beginning to tremble. It had come to him that Eve was dead.