"And I am ready to die," replied the girl. "Come, I'll show thee something,"--and with that, drawing aside the carpet, she lifted up a trap-door, beneath which was visible through the gloom a deeper, lower room, supported by short, stout, arched columns, close beside which a number of large barrels had been placed. "Yes," said Banfi, "I know. In that cellar I have hidden the gunpowder which I saved after John Kemeny's fall." "Look at this long nitrous linstock," said Azrael, drawing up the end of a thick cotton coil out of the cellar; "the barrels are connected with it, and many a time when thou hast been with me have I had the end of this lunt under the cushions of my couch, and held in my couch the torch which was to have kindled it whilst thou wert sleeping with thy head upon my breast, and I lay and listened calmly for the explosion which was to send us both to heaven or to hell." "And you were afraid to do it?" "Not for myself. But I reflected that thou wert not thine own but thy country's." "I belong to no one now." "Thy mind was so full of lofty plans. Destiny chose thee to be a Prince among men, a hero among the kings of the earth whose name should fill the pages of history." "All that is over now," cried Banfi, with drunken self-forgetfulness. "I am nobody and nothing. The vault beneath this floor is all that belongs to me. In the world without I am a fugitive and a vagabond." "Ha!" hissed Azrael. "Then thy enemies have triumphed over thee?" "My curse be upon their heads! I had compassion upon them, so I have perished." "Is Csaky also among thy persecutors?" "Yes; he is my most pitiless pursuer." "And have all thy faithful friends deserted thee?" "The fallen has no faithful friends." "Thou mightst hire mercenaries and begin the struggle anew. Thou art rich enough." "My wealth has gone." "Thou mightst beg for help from foreign lands." "That would be treason against my country. I have fallen and know what awaits me. I must die. But my enemies shall not triumph at my death as at a festival, or laugh aloud to see me go pale and downcast to my doom. I will die alone." "By Allah, thou shalt not die alone! Come, let us fill our glasses. Accursed be the world! we'll speak of it no more. Come, stifle thy soul in the delirium of joy, and when thy drooping head sinks down upon my breast, I will light the end of this lunt. Thou shalt dream of bliss, of paradise, of kisses ravished and returned; the twofold throbbing of our hearts shall beat the minutes; here below, the stillness of death; there above, the howling of the tempest and of thy foes; and then an earthquaking thunder, rending and scattering the rocks, shall proclaim to heaven and hell that none shall ever find Denis Banfi here on earth again!" "Azrael, thou art a devil, and I love thee!" cried Banfi, and he clasped the girl in his arms as if she had been a little child. * * * * *