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Updated: June 17, 2025
Do you hear anything from the city?" "No, no!" There was a moment's pause. "Those barricades will not allow them to enter, even if our friend does not persuade them to disperse," "I have heard there is sometimes shooting." Vittoria shuddered. "It is terrible for men to become brutes." "The time is growing late," Oliveta quavered.
There was a breathless pause before Maruffi spoke. "Lucrezia Ferara!" he said, hoarsely, as if wishing to test the sound of the name. "So Oliveta is the daughter of the overseer, and you are Savigno's sweetheart." His words were directed at Margherita, who answered in a thin, shrill, broken voice: "What are you doing here?" "I came for that wanton's blood. Give her to me." "Oliveta? She is gone."
"You are a nurse. What has that to do with it?" "Do you know that I have been with the Sisters of Mercy? I I am one of them." "Impossible!" "In spirit at least. I shall be one in reality, as soon as I am better fitted." "A nun!" He stared at her dumbly, and his face paled. "I have given all I possess to the Order excepting only what I have settled upon Oliveta.
Then he thought of her danger, realizing that this man was quite capable in his fury of killing her, too, and he stiffened in every fiber. His cowardice fell away from him like a rotten garment, and he stood erect. Maruffi, it seemed, had not heard his last words, or else his mind was still set upon Oliveta. "Gone!" he exclaimed. "Then I shall not see her face grow black within my fingers not yet.
From somewhere toward the heart of the city came a faint murmur. "It is the rumble of a wagon on the next street," gasped Oliveta. The sound died away. The girls stood frozen at attention with their senses strained. Then it rose again, louder. Soon there was no mistaking it.
Vittoria leaned forward horror-stricken, and although she tried to call she did not hear her voice above the confusion; Oliveta clutched her, murmuring distractedly. The avenues were jammed from curb to curb; telegraph-poles, lamp-posts, trees held a burden of human forms; windows and house-tops were filling in every direction; a continuous roar beat thunderously against the prison walls.
Through a grated aperture in the prison wall an armed man peered down the street. "Caesar is cunning," Oliveta broke out. "He is not one to be easily caught. He is brave, too. Ah, God! how I loved him and how I have hated him!"
During all this time his relations with Vittoria remained unchanged. She and Oliveta eagerly welcomed his reports of the trial; but she never permitted him to see her alone, and he felt that she was deliberately withdrawing from him. He met her only for brief interviews.
Meanwhile the dusk settled, the golden flames died out of the western windows, the room darkened. Seeing that her patient slept, Oliveta arose and with noiseless step went to a little shrine which hung on the wall. She knelt before the figure of the Virgin, whispering a prayer, then lit a fresh candle for her sister's pain and left the room, partly closing the door behind her.
It was she who secured the names of Di Marco and Garcia and the others." Sudden enlightenment brought a cry from him. "You! Then you wrote those letters! You are the 'One Who Knows'?" Vittoria nodded; but her eyes were fixed upon the girl. Oliveta was whispering through white lips: "It is the will of God! He has been delivered into my hands." "I am beginning to " "Wait!"
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