When Lomellino addressed him with a request to follow whither he should lead, it seemed as if some rude voice were suddenly awaking him from a delicious dream--save that the cause of his pleasure and wonder was still present. Then, ashamed at having allowed himself to be so attracted by the spectacle of boundless wealth around him, he followed Lomellino to an alcove at the further end of the caverned room, and the entrance of which was covered by a purple velvet curtain, richly fringed with gold. Within were two beds, having a screen between them. These couches were of the most comfortable description, and such as in those times were not usually seen elsewhere than in the dwellings of the wealthy. Near each bed stood a toilet-table and wash-stand, with ewers of massive silver and towels of fine linen; and to the walls hung two large mirrors--articles of exclusive luxury at that period. The floor was richly carpeted, and a perfumed lamp burned in front of the dial of a water-clock. Lomellino respectfully informed the marquis that one division of the alcove was at his service; and Manuel was too much wearied by the adventures of the evening not to avail himself of the information. The brigand seeing that he was wounded, but without asking any questions as to the cause, proffered his aid to divest the marquis of his upper clothing; and at length the young nobleman was comfortably stretched in one of the voluptuous beds. Sleep had just closed his eyelids, and he had even already entered upon a vision of fairy enchantment,--doubtless conjured up to his imagination by the gorgeous spectacle of the treasure-room,--when he was startled by screams which appeared to issue from the very wall of the alcove, at the head of his bed. He listened--and those screams became more and more piercing in their nature, although their tone was subdued, as if by the existence of a thick intervening partition. "Holy Virgin! what sounds are those?" he exclaimed, more in pity than in fear--for they were unmistakably female shrieks which he heard. "Perdition seize on those Carmelite nuns!" cried Lomellino; "they seem to have got another victim!" "_Another victim!_" murmured the marquis falling back in his bed, a prey to the most torturing feelings; and then his lips framed the sweet and tender name of "GIULIA!" CHAPTER XXVIII. A FEARFUL ACCUSATION. Fair and beauteous art thou, O City of Flowers! with thy domes and spires, and turrets overlooking the Arno's silver stream, and crowding together in that river's classic pale; surrounded, too, by oak-covered hills, and cypress groves, and gardens of olives and evergreens, and presenting to the view of the spectator who stands on the lofty summit of Monte Senario, so vast an assemblage of palaces as to justify the saying of Ariosto, that it seemed as if the very soil produced them!