The rustling of the curtain, the light sound of her footstep, the bright glance of her eye, when she paused before him, all alike failed to make an impression on the general's senses. She perceived that he was in a waking dream, absorbingly profound and painful, and she stood in silence, from disdainful pride, or perhaps with a woman's curiosity, endeavouring to trace the workings of his spirit from the revelations of his countenance, which, by this time, had changed from a stony inexpressiveness to agitation and distortion. At this moment, the head of the Conqueror was bent forwards, and his eyes directed upon the floor; but she saw enough in the writhing features, and the forehead almost impurpled with blood, to know that the passions then convulsing his bosom, were dark and deadly. At this sight, the frown gradually passed away from her own visage, and she stood regarding him for the space of several minutes, with a calm and melancholy intentness. Then, perceiving that his lips, though moving as if in speech, gave out no articulate sound, she exclaimed, with a voice that thrilled to his soul, though subdued to the lowest accents, "Arise, assassin! It is _not_ just, it is _not_ expedient; and he shall NOT perish!" It seemed as if she had read his heart. He started up, surprised and confounded; and his first act was to cross himself, as if to exorcise a fiend, conjured up by the mere spell of evil thoughts. He even gave voice to two or three interjections of alarm, before perceiving that the rebuke came only from lips of earth. "Hah! hah! Santa Maria! Santos y Angeles! hah!--Ho! ho! Infeliz! Magdalena! fair conqueror of hearts! bright converter of souls that shalt be! is it thou, _Monja mia Santisima_? most devout saint of the veil?" he cried, recovering his self-possession, and banishing every trace of passion with astonishing address. "By thy bright eyes of heaven,--and thanks be thine for the good deed,--thou hast waked me from a dream of night-mare, a most horrible vision. These naps o' the afternoon are but provokers of Incubus,--ay, and Succuba into the bargain. I thank thee, bright Infeliz: it is better to be waked by thy voice, than by sweet music!"