"The same," was the answer. "It was at Dame Margaretha's house that your father placed my sister Agnes, who has resided there nearly four years." "But wherefore have you made those inquiries relative to the Lady Nisida?" inquired Francisco. "I will explain the motive with frankness," responded Wagner. He then related to the young count all those particulars relative to the mysterious lady and Agnes, with which the reader is already acquainted. "There must be some extraordinary mistake--some strange error, signor, in all this," observed Francisco. "My poor sister is, as you seem to be aware, so deeply afflicted that she possesses not faculties calculated to make her aware of that _amour_ which even I, who possess those faculties in which she is deficient, never suspected, and concerning which no hint ever reached me, until the whole truth burst suddenly upon me last night at the funeral of my sire. Moreover, had accident revealed to Nisida the existence of the connection between my father and your sister, signor, she would have imparted the discovery to me, such is the confidence and so great is the love that exists between us. For habit has rendered us so skillful and quick in conversing with the language of the deaf and dumb, that no impediment ever exists to the free interchange of our thoughts." "And yet, if the Lady Nisida _had_ made such a discovery, her hatred of Agnes may be well understood," said Wagner; "for her ladyship must naturally look upon my sister as the partner of her father's weakness--the dishonored slave of his passions." "Nisida has no secret from me," observed the young count, firmly. "But wherefore did Dame Margaretha deceive my sister in respect to the personal appearance of the Lady Nisida?" inquired Wagner. "I know not. At the same time----" The door opened, and Nisida entered the apartment. She was attired in deep black; her luxuriant raven hair, no longer depending in shining curls, was gathered up in massy bands at the sides, and a knot behind, whence hung a rich veil that meandered over her body's splendidly symmetrical length of limb in such a manner as to aid her attire in shaping rather than hiding the contours of that matchless form. The voluptuous development of her bust was shrouded, not concealed, by the stomacher of black velvet which she wore, and which set off in strong relief the dazzling whiteness of her neck. The moment her lustrous dark eyes fell upon Fernand Wagner, she started slightly; but this movement was imperceptible alike to him whose presence caused it, and to her brother. Francisco conveyed to her, by the rapid language of the fingers, the name of their visitor, and at the same time intimated to her that he was the brother of Agnes, the young and lovely female whose strange appearance at the funeral, and avowed connection with the late noble, had not been concealed from the haughty lady.