Mild lights, rich shadows, the ceiling supported by marble pillars, the maskers in their contrasted costumes, and the mirrors reflecting all. The stately Roderick and the enticing Lucretia are conversing earnestly in yonder recess,--the White Monk and the White Nun stand face to face near yonder pillar, her lip pressing the champagne glass offered by his hand,--Leo the Tenth, paces slowly from the middle of the hall to the mirror and back again, the head of his beloved nephew on his shoulder, _her_ waist encircled by his arm; and yonder, apart from all others, stands the Lady in Black, with her diminutive lover, even the Turk, kneeling at her feet. Nameless observes all these with an especial interest. As for the rest, there is a Pope sharing an orange with a dancing-girl, a Knight halving a bunch of grapes with a houri, a Cardinal taking wine with a Quakeress; and the saintly Abbess, yonder, is teaching the grave Haroun Alraschid how to eat a "philopoena!" "Truly, my life is one of adventure!" muttered Nameless, observing the fantastic scene. "Last night, arrested as a thief,--a few nights since the tenant of a mad-house, and to-night in a scene like this! To-morrow night _what_ and _where_?" To-morrow night! Meanwhile, in a dark recess, whose mirror scarce reflected a single ray, Frank, trembling and agitated, stood face to face with the Count. His mask was laid aside, and in the dim light she saw his face stamped with an unusual energy. "You wish to speak to me?" she said. "An hour ago I came to this house,--entered your chamber unsummoned, and to my utter surprise found this young man there. I overheard the pledge which you exchanged; and now let us have a fair understanding. Has he promised,--has he plighted his word? Have you accepted him?" Thus spoke the Count, in a low voice. "He has, father," replied Frank; "and I have accepted him." "When and where?" asked the Count, or Col. Tarleton, as you please. "As soon as I leave this place, and am the tenant of a _home_," replied Frank, her voice trembling on that word, so new to her--"_home_!" "Daughter," said Tarleton, and his voice was deep and husky, indicating powerful emotion, "I have a few words to say to you; you will do well to heed them. The drama of twenty-one years draws to a close. The termination of the fifth act will decide my fate and yours. This _boy_ is now almost the only obstacle between myself and my brother's unbounded wealth, and between you and the position of a respected, if not virtuous, woman. And this boy, mark you, shall not leave this house save as your husband. I swear it! Do you hear me,--" His voice grew thicker, huskier,--he seized her by the wrist. "Father!" she gasped, as though her proud spirit was cowed by the ferocious determination of his manner.