“It is sacrilege; you are a priest!” On and on he wandered, and came out upon the sea-shore, on the barren rocks where the fierce light struck down, and the water moaned its low, perpetual wail of unrest. “Ah!” he said; “the sea will be more merciful; it, too, is wearied unto death and cannot sleep.” Then Arthur rose up from the deep, and cried aloud: “This sea is mine!” ***** “Your Eminence! Your Eminence!” Montanelli awoke with a start. His servant was knocking at the door. He rose mechanically and opened it, and the man saw how wild and scared he looked. “Your Eminence--are you ill?” He drew both hands across his forehead. “No; I was asleep, and you startled me.” “I am very sorry; I thought I had heard you moving early this morning, and I supposed------” “Is it late now?” “It is nine o'clock, and the Governor has called. He says he has very important business, and knowing Your Eminence to be an early riser------” “Is he downstairs? I will come presently.” He dressed and went downstairs. “I am afraid this is an unceremonious way to call upon Your Eminence,” the Governor began. “I hope there is nothing the matter?” “There is very much the matter. Rivarez has all but succeeded in escaping.” “Well, so long as he has not quite succeeded there is no harm done. How was it?” “He was found in the courtyard, right against the little iron gate. When the patrol came in to inspect the courtyard at three o'clock this morning one of the men stumbled over something on the ground; and when they brought the light up they found Rivarez lying across the path unconscious. They raised an alarm at once and called me up; and when I went to examine his cell I found all the window-bars filed through and a rope made of torn body-linen hanging from one of them. He had let himself down and climbed along the wall. The iron gate, which leads into the subterranean tunnels, was found to be unlocked. That looks as if the guards had been suborned.” “But how did he come to be lying across the path? Did he fall from the rampart and hurt himself?” “That is what I thought at first. Your Eminence; but the prison surgeon can't find any trace of a fall. The soldier who was on duty yesterday says that Rivarez looked very ill last night when he brought in the supper, and did not eat anything. But that must be nonsense; a sick man couldn't file those bars through and climb along that roof. It's not in reason.” “Does he give any account of himself?” “He is unconscious, Your Eminence.” “Still?” “He just half comes to himself from time to time and moans, and then goes off again.” “That is very strange. What does the doctor think?”