Without a moment's hesitation, she examined his doublet, and clutched the key that his father had given to him scarcely six hours before. Then, light as the fawn, she left the room. Having retraced her steps half-way up the passage, she paused at the door of the chamber in which the corpse of her father lay. For an instant--a single instant--she seemed to revolt from the prosecution of her design, then, with a stern contraction of the brows, and an imperious curl of the lip--as if she said within herself, "_Fool that I am to hesitate!_"--she entered the room. Without fear--without compunction, she approached the bed. The body was laid out: stretched in its winding sheet, stiff and stark did it seem to repose on the mattress--the countenance rendered more ghastly than even death could make it, by the white band which tied up the under jaw. The nurse who had thus disposed the corpse, had retired to snatch a few hours of rest; and there was consequently no spy upon Nisida's actions. With a fearless step she advanced toward the closet--the mysterious closet relative to which such strange injunctions had been given. CHAPTER III. THE MANUSCRIPT--FLORA FRANCATELLI. Nisida's hand trembled not as she placed the key in the lock; but when it turned, and she knew that in another instant she might open that door if she chose, she compressed her lips firmly together--she called all her courage to her aid--for she seemed to imagine that it was necessary to prepare herself to behold something frightfully appalling. And now again her cheeks were deadly pale; but the light that burned in her eyes was brilliant in the extreme. White as was her countenance, her large black orbs appeared to shine--to glow--to burn, as if with a violent fever. Advancing with her left hand, she half-opened the door of the closet with her right. Then she plunged her glances with rapidity into the recess. But, holy God! what a start that courageous, bold, and energetic woman gave--a start as if the cold hand of a corpse had been suddenly thrust forth to grasp her. And oh! what horror convulsed her countenance--while her lips were compressed as tightly as if they were an iron vise. Rapidly and instantly recoiling as that glance was, it had nevertheless revealed to her an object of interest as well as of horror; for with eyes now averted, she seized something within the closet, and thrust it into her bosom. Then, hastily closing the door, she retraced her way to her brother's chamber. He still slept soundly; Nisida returned the key to the pocket whence she had taken it, and hurried back to her own room, from which she had scarcely been absent five minutes. And did she seek her couch? did she repair to rest? No; that energetic woman experienced no weariness--yielded to no lassitude. Carefully bolting the door of her innermost chamber, she seated herself in the arm-chair and drew from her bosom the object which she had taken from the mysterious closet.