She again resumed her seat, and waited with smothered impatience for the event of the decisive crisis, which the physician could now no longer conceal. She pressed his burning hand in hers, and waited, with apparent composure, for eleven o’clock. Slowly the hours passed--the clock of Passau tolled each lingering quarter as they rolled away, and hastened towards the appointed time, when the chamber-door of Verezzi was slowly opened by Ferdinand. “Ha! why do you disturb me now?” exclaimed Matilda, whom the entrance of Ferdinand had roused from a profound reverie. “Signora!” whispered Ferdinand--“Signor Zastrozzi waits below: he wishes to see you there.” “Ah!” said Matilda, thoughtfully, “conduct him here.” Ferdinand departed to obey her; footsteps were heard in the passage, and immediately afterwards Zastrozzi stood before Matilda. “Matilda!” exclaimed he, “why do I see you here? What accident has happened which confines you to this chamber?” “Ah!” replied Matilda, in an undervoice, “look in that bed--behold Verezzi! emaciated and insensible--in a quarter of an hour, perhaps, all animation will be fled--fled for ever!” continued she, as a deeper expression of despair shaded her beautiful features. Zastrozzi advanced to the foot of the bed--Verezzi lay, as if dead, before his eyes; for the ashy hue of his lips, and his sunken inexpressive eye, almost declared that his spirit was fled. Zastrozzi gazed upon him with an indefinable expression of insatiated vengeance--indefinable to Matilda, as she gazed upon the expressive countenance of her coadjutor in crime. “Matilda! I want you: come to the lower saloon; I have something to speak to you of,” said Zastrozzi. “Oh! if it concerned my soul’s eternal happiness, I could not now attend,” exclaimed Matilda, energetically; “in less than a quarter of an hour, perhaps, all I hold dear on earth will be dead; with him, every hope, every wish, every tie which binds me to earth. Oh!” exclaimed she, her voice assuming a tone of extreme horror, “see how pale he looks!” Zastrozzi bade Matilda farewell, and went away. The physician yet continued watching in silence the countenance of Verezzi: it still retained its unchanging expression of fixed despair. Matilda gazed upon it, and waited with the most eager, yet subdued impatience, for the expiration of the few minutes which yet remained--she still gazed. The features of Verezzi’s countenance were slightly convulsed. The clock struck eleven. His lips unclosed--Matilda turned pale with terror; yet mute, and absorbed by expectation, remained rooted to her seat. She raised her eyes, and hope again returned, as she beheld the countenance of the humane physician lighted up with a beam of pleasure.