To the watchers in the farm-house nothing was altered to the
eye, and little to the ear. Fatal security! The last few minutes had
darkly determined their future destinies--in the loved and cherished
retreat they were now no longer alone.
They heard no stealthy footsteps pacing round their dwelling, they saw
no fierce eyes peering into the interior of the farm-house through a
chink in the shutters, they marked no dusky figure passing through the
softly and quickly opened door, and gliding into the darkest corner of
the room. Yet, now as they sat together, communing in silence with
their young, sad hearts, the threatening figure of Goisvintha stood,
shrouded in congenial darkness, under their protecting roof and in their
beloved chamber, rising still and silent almost at their very sides.
Though the fire of her past fever had raged again through her veins, and
though startling visions of the murders at Aquileia had flashed before
her mind as the wild lightning before her eyes, she had traced her way
through the suburbs and along the high-road, and down the little path to
the farm-house gate, without straying, without hesitating.
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