Under a wide-spreading and drooping fig-tree in the lower part of the gardens of the villa on the hill was seated a man who kept his eyes steadily fixed upon a certain spot at the end of the terrace far above. The distance in a direct line to the object toward which his eyes were turned was some two hundred and fifty yards; it might be a little more, but at all events, he could see distinctly all that passed above. At first it seemed as if there was but little to be seen. A lady was seated, reading, in a small plot or garden, close by a highly-ornamented doorway which led into the interior of the villa. It was in an angle of the building, where a large mass of architecture protruded beyond the general façade. Thus, when the sun was in the west, a deeper shade was cast there than upon any other point of the terrace. It was, perhaps, that the sun had nearly reached the horizon, and that the shades of night were coming fast, which caused the lady to lay the manuscript book upon her knee, and, looking up to the sky, seem to contemplate a flight of tinted clouds, which looked like the leaves of a shedding rose blown over a garden by the rifling wind. But hark! what is that sound that strikes his ear? the fast footfalls of horses coming along the road beneath the stone walls of the garden. They pause close by him. "Here! hold the horse, and wait till I return," said a voice, and the next moment a cavalier vaulted over the wall, and stood within twenty yards of where the watcher sat. For a moment the stranger seemed uncertain which way to turn, but then he forced his way through the vines to a path which led up to the main entrance of the villa on the terrace. He looked up and around from time to time as he ascended; but suddenly an object seemed to meet his eyes to the right, and, striking away from the path, he took a course direct toward it, regardless of any obstacle. The watcher kept his eye upon him while he climbed the hill, mounted the steps of the terrace, and stood by the lady's side. Who can tell what words were spoken? Who can tell what feelings were expressed! Who can tell what memories were re-awakened? Who can tell what passions had power in that hour? The watcher saw him stand beside her talking for several minutes, then cast himself down on the ground by her side. A moment after, his arm glided round her; and one could almost fancy that wafted on the air came the words, "One--one kiss before we part." Their lips evidently met, and God forgive them if it was a sin! The next instant Leonora rose from her seat, and, hand in hand, they entered the building by the door which led to her own saloon. "Ha! ha!" said the watcher, with a bitter laugh. But two minutes had not elapsed before lights flashed from the windows of that very room, and the shadows of three figures passed across.