"They will be upon us directly, Signora," said her trembling, grey-haired seneschal, who had hastened to her at the first alarm. "Lose no time in escaping. The pirates will never content themselves with the town--rely on it, _you_ are their object. We will lower you from the window--you must then cross the draw-bridge, and pass through the gallery cut in the rock. It will bring you out on the hill-side, where Tiberio shall join you with horses--" "Come, then, Caterina--" "Alas, Madama, I am too old for jumping out of windows--I will remain to secrete the jewels, and look after the maids. We will lock ourselves in the cellars." "Come then, Cynthia. Be quick." Cynthia, who was wrapping herself in her haik, looked unwilling, and said: "May I not remain with Caterina, Leila?" "Certainly not. Jump out of window this instant, and then you can help me down." The Duchess accelerated her by a slight push, on which she sprang lightly as a chamois to the ground, which was not far below; and the Duchess, seeing she came to no harm, called on the saints, and did the same. Caterina lowered them a lamp, which they covered, and soon they were in the rocky passage, while the Turks in the distance were howling like hungry wolves or mad dogs.[4] [4] "Lupi famelici," "colla rabbia d' affamati cani." "How cold it is!" complained the Duchess, shivering and drawing closer the richly furred velvet mantle in which she was enveloped. "And you gave me no stockings, Cynthia, only slippers. How _could_ you be so foolish?" "You must not mind that, Leila, since you are safe," said Cynthia, bluntly. "Think what horrors are going on in the town. Holy prophet! it reminds me of the night when my parents fled from the Spaniards!" "Cynthia, it is very wicked of you to use those heathenish imprecations, now that I have taken the trouble to have you baptised. Your prophet was not holy, nor a prophet at all, but a very bad man, as I have told you several times, and you must not be so benighted any more." Cynthia's eyes flashed fire, but she held her peace. "If you call any one holy," continued the Duchess, "it should be the blessed Virgin and holy saints. You ought to consider it a great mercy that you have been led to the service of a Christian mistress who cares for your soul. Don't you feel this?" "No," said Cynthia, stoutly; "I do not feel grateful that I was torn from my home and country, and that my father was cut down on his own doorstep, and my mother dragged along the ground by the hair of her head. Could _you_ feel grateful, Leila?" "Not for those things, certainly; but misfortunes are often blessings in disguise, and the Moors are very wicked people, and--" "They are doing those very things, just now, to _your_ people," said Cynthia, expressively, and stretching out her arm towards the town. "Ah! Heaven forbid!" said the Duchess. "Heaven does not forbid, though," said Cynthia, sorrowfully, "and I cannot think why Heaven only looks on."