She spoke with a level and unhesitating voice, yet in her eyes there gleamed a vague smouldering of unrest. "I do not even know your name," he said, longing to clasp those firm white hands which were so close to his eyes. "What is a name?" she shrugged, then, with a laugh, she added: "Has the night taken away your courage?" Their eyes met. "What is there to be afraid of?" he queried tremulously. Again her eyes thrilled him. "I have tricked you!" He started to rise, grasping the white soft hands in his own and relinquishing them the next moment, as if he had touched fire. She held him easily with a glance of her strange eyes. "What do you want of me?" he stammered. "Why are you here?" "Come,--let me show you!" she said, taking him by the hand and leading him towards the window which looked out upon the mere. He followed her resistlessly. In a flash he felt her arms about him, drawing him close to her. She threw words in his face, with a fierce, intimate whispering. Francesco recoiled, as if he had been bitten by a snake. But the magic was too strong for his starved senses; ever and ever she caught him towards her, kissing him with moist, hungry lips, while her eyes scintillated in strange lights that made him dizzy, and her arms were coiled about him with a strength he had not guessed. With a choking outcry he succeeded at last in releasing himself, and turning to the door, tore at it, and found it fastened on the other side. He stood there, facing her, white with fear, anger, passion. He knew if she willed to make him her own, he was lost, and she came slowly towards him, with the soundless tread of a tigress who has cornered her prey. She was regarding him with a strange amused smile, then she held out her white arms. "Are these charms so poor, that they must go begging?" she said with a return of the sardonic glitter in her eyes. "In the name of mercy--go!" he stammered with blind pleading eyes. "The halo cannot fail you," she replied with a laugh, as her glance swept him from head to foot. "Fool--fool!" She placed her hands tightly about his throat, looking into his eyes. "Should you learn at the court of Naples to value the earthly joys more than the heavenly,--return,--and be forgiven!"--She kissed him and sent him reeling against the wall. For a moment he stood paralyzed, facing her in the darkness, while her laughter, high and shrill, resounded in his ears. He rushed at her, tried to detain her, as she reached the arch. But as the panel parted, a figure suddenly came between him and the woman. The moon had emerged from the cloud, behind which it had been hidden. Francesco recoiled and staggered back into his chamber, as if he had been dealt a sudden blow. For, swift as the shadow had come between them, ere the panel closed behind the woman--he had recognized Raniero Frangipani. End of Book the Third. Book the Fourth THE PASSION CHAPTER I SIREN LAND