So in the darkness, seated there upon the millstone with her gun across her knees, she told me all the story, very quietly:--How at the last she had been found in the house in Brussels by Marc'antonio and Stephanu and fetched home to the island; how she had found there her brother Camillo in charge of Fra Domenico, his tutor and confessor; with what kindness the priest had received her, how he had confessed her and assured her that the book of those horrible years was closed; and how, nevertheless, the story had crept out, poisoning the people's loyalty and her brother's chances. I heard her to the end, or almost to the end: for while she drew near to conclude, and while I stood grinding my teeth upon the certainty that the whole plot--from the kidnapping to the spreading of the slanders--had been Master Domenico's work, and his only, the air thudded with a distant dull concussion: whereat she broke off, lifting her head to listen. "It is the sound of guns," said I, listening too, while half a dozen similar concussions followed. "Heavy artillery, too, and from the southward." "Nay; but what light is yonder, to the north?" She pointed into the night behind me, and I turned to see a faint glow spreading along the northern horizon, and mounting, and reddening as it mounted, until the black hills between us and Cape Corso stood up against it in sharp outline. "O wife," said I, "since you must be weary, sleep for a while, and I will keep watch: but wake soon, for yonder is something worth your seeing." "Whose work is it, think you?" "The work," said I, "of a man who would set the whole world on fire, and only for love." CHAPTER XXVI. THE FLAME AND THE ALTAR. "And when he saw the statly towre Shining baith clere and bricht, Whilk stood abune the jawing wave, Built on a rock of height, "'Says, Row the boat, my mariners, And bring me to the land, For yonder I see my love's castle Close by the saut sea strand." _Rough Royal_. "As 'twixt two equal armies Fate Suspends uncertain victory, Our souls--which to advance our state Were gone out--hung 'twixt her and me: "And whilst our souls negotiate there, We like sepulchral statues lay; All day the same our postures were, And we said nothing, all the day." DONNE, _The Ecstasie_. She rose from the stone, but swayed a little, finding her feet. The dim light, as she turned her face to it, showed me that she was weary almost to fainting. She had come to a pass where the more haste would certainly make the worse speed.