It was a manuscript, consisting of several small slips of paper, somewhat closely written upon. The paper was doubtless familiar to her; for she paused not to consider its nature, but greedily addressed herself to the study of the meaning which it conveyed. And of terrible import seemed that manuscript to be; for while Nisida read, her countenance underwent many and awful changes--and her bosom heaved convulsively at one instant, while at another it remained motionless, as if respiration were suspended. At length the perusal was completed; and grinding her teeth with demoniac rage, she threw the manuscript upon the floor. But at the same moment her eyes, which she cast wildly about her, caught the mild and benign countenance of her mother's portrait; and, as oil stills the fury of the boiling billows, did the influence of that picture calm in an instant the tremendous emotions of Nisida's soul. Tears burst from her eyes, and she suddenly relapsed from the incarnate fiend into the subdued woman. Then stooping down, she picked up the papers that lay scattered on the floor: but as she did so she averted her looks, with loathing and disgust, as much as possible from the pages that her hands collected almost at random. And now another idea struck her--an idea the propriety of which evidently warred against her inclination. She was not a woman of mere impulses--although she often acted speedily after a thought had entered her brain. But she was wondrously quick at weighing all reasons for or against the suggestions of her imagination; and thus, to any one who was not acquainted with her character, she might frequently appear to obey the first dictates of her impetuous passions. Scarcely three minutes after the new idea had struck her, her resolution was fixed. Once more concealing the papers in her bosom, she repaired with the lamp to her brother's room--purloined the key a second time--hastened to the chamber of death--opened the closet again--and again sustained the shock of a single glance at its horrors, as she returned the manuscript to the place whence she had originally taken it. Then, having once more retraced her way to Francisco's chamber, she restored the key to the folds of his doublet--for he continued to sleep soundly; and Nisida succeeded in regaining her own apartments just in time to avoid the observation of the domestics, who were now beginning to move about. Nisida sought her couch and slept until nearly ten o'clock, when she awoke with a start--doubtless caused by some unpleasant dream. Having ascertained the hour by reference to a water-clock, or clepsydra, which stood on a marble pedestal near the head of the bed, she arose--unlocked the door of her apartment--rang a silver bell--and then returned to her bed. In a few minutes Flora, who had been waiting in the adjoining room, entered the chamber.