"Well," said Taddeo, hurrying him as far as possible from the door that he might be sure he was not overheard; "I accept the liberty offered me; but for a reason which I can reveal to no one, I must remain a few days in this cell. Suffer the minister and all to think that I persist in this refusal. In two days I will have changed my plans, and before sunset on the third, _I will have returned with you to Sorrento_." Henri, surprised, could not help looking at Rovero. "Do not question me, Signor, for I cannot reply. I have told you all I can, and not one other word shall leave my mouth." "I may then tell Signora Rovero, that you will return." "Announce to her that in me you have found another friend, and that in three days, _you will place me in her arms_." Taking Maulear's hand he clasped it firmly. "Thanks, Signor," said Maulear, "I accept your friendship. With people like you, this fruit ripens quickly. Perhaps, however, you will discover that it has not on that account less flavor and value." Maulear tapped thrice at the door of the cell; the turnkey appeared, and Henri left, as he went out casting one last look of affection on Taddeo. Never did time appear so long to Aminta's brother as that which intervened between Maulear's departure and the night he was so anxious for. That night came at last. The keeper brought his evening meal. He did not wish to be asleep as he was on the first occasion, when La Felina visited him. He was unwilling to lose a single moment of her precious visit. Remembering that his preceding nights had been agitated and almost sleepless, apprehensive that he would be overcome by weariness, he resolved to stimulate himself. Like most of the Neapolitans, he was very temperate, and rarely drank wine; he preferred that icy water, flavored with the juice of the orange or lime, of which the people of that country are so fond. He now, however, needed something to keep him awake, and asked for wine. He approached the table on which his evening meal was placed, he took a flask of Massa wine, one of the best of Naples; he poured out a goblet and drank it, and felt immediately new strength course through his veins. He sat on his bed and listened anxiously for the slightest sound, to the low accents of the night, to those indescribable sounds which are drowned by the tumults of the day, and of whose existence, silence and night alone make us aware. The hours rolled on, and at every stroke of the clock his heart kept time with every blow of the iron hammer on the bell of bronze. At last the clock struck twelve. Midnight, the time for specters and crimes, was come. A few minutes before the clock sounded, he perceived that the sleep of which he had been so much afraid gradually made his eyelids grow heavy--and that though he sought to overcome the feeling, his drowsiness increased to such a degree that he was forced to sit down.