"The wafer was discovered on a certain captain of the guard who hath crossed my path to his undoing once too often. The Church herself shall pronounce sentence upon him--through me!" "And--that other?" There was a pause. "Her husband!--He deems her dead, nor grieves he overmuch, believing, as he does, that her love was another's--even his whom I have marked for certain doom. I have it in my mind to try what a jest will do for him." The lurid tone of the speaker seemed to impress even his shadowy companion. "A jest?" "He shall attend the great ceremony," Basil explained. "And he shall behold the stainless dove. When is it to be?" he added after a pause. "When is it to be?" "Six nights hence--on the night of the full moon." "And then you shall give to me that which I crave, and the forfeit shall be paid." "The forfeit shall be paid," the voice re-echoed from the shadows, and to Basil it seemed as if the damp, cold breath from an open grave had been wafted to his cheeks. Like a phantom that sinks back into the night of the grave, whence it had emerged, Bessarion vanished from the chamber. In his place stood Hormazd, who had noiselessly entered through a panel in the wall. Basil greeted him with a silent nod. "What of the messenger?" he turned to the Oriental. "He returns within the hour," replied the voice. "What are his tidings?" Basil queried eagerly. "Is Alberic in the land of shadows, where she dwells who gave him birth?" "Sent by the same relentless hand across the Styx," the cowled figure spoke, yet Basil knew not whether it was a question or a statement. He gave a start. "Tell me, how are secrets known to you at which Hell itself would pale?" he turned with unsteady tone to his companion. "Those of the shadows commune with the shadows," came the enigmatical reply. "Is everything prepared?" "When the brazen tongue from the Capitol tolls the hour, the blow shall fall," Basil replied. "Hassan Abdullah and his Saracens are anchored off the port of Ostia. The Epirotes and Albanians in the Senator's service are bribed to our cause. Rome is in the throes of mortal terror. Even the Monk of Cluny is under the spell, and has ceased to arraign the Scarlet Woman of Babylon. The dread of the impending judgment day will succor our cause. And--once installed within these walls as master of Rome--with Theodora by my side--you shall have full sway, to do whatever your dark fancies may prompt. You shall have a chamber and a laboratory and be at liberty to roam at will through your devil's kitchen." The cowled figure gave a silent nod, but, before he could speak, the door leading into the chamber opened as from the effect of a violent gust of wind, and a shapeless form, that seemed half human, half ape, flew at Basil's feet, who recoiled as if a ghost had arisen before him from the floor.