he would not recover, I was several times allowed to see him. In the course of my visits to the convent, I more than once encountered Leonardo di Sivori, and I was struck by the gentle and kindly expression of his face. One of the men-at-arms, a Tyrolese by birth, told me a great deal about him. He said he had been stationed many years in Florence, and knew the student well. All men respected and loved him, not more for his learning than his goodness of heart. He told me he had himself once beheld him throw himself before a furious bull that had broken loose from the ring where they were baiting him, to save a little child, at the imminent risk of his own life; and when a deadly sickness visited Florence, which baffled the physicians, and nearly all who could, quitted the city, Leonardo continued to visit the poorest and most infected districts of the town, until the scourge was removed." "And is this thy ground of hope of obtaining aid from him?" asked Arnold. "My poor child, thou hast yet to learn that a heretic is in their eyes a being cut off from all the claims and sympathies of humanity; and they who would freely peril their lives in behalf of the helpless and the sick, would account it sin to nourish the smallest sentiment of charity for one of our faith and nation." "Do I not know it, my father?" said the damsel. "Can a daughter of our people have forgotten that every man's hand is against us; though, blessed be God, our hand is not against every man? But for brother Leonardo; I have not yet told thee all. My informant said that it was generally noticed, with prise and some displeasure, that he visited the dying, as freely as those of his quarter in which the Jews reside, and attended the beds of their sick and Christian brethren. I could not but think that one whose heart is thus open and liberal in its mercy, would not exclude even a Vaude from it." Arnold again shook his head. "It proves him a generous and noble-hearted man, I grant; but he was not bound by his vow of obedience to refuse help to them as he is to us. And yet, I know not what better we can do, or indeed what we can do at all, if we try not this. How say you, Sanzio; think you there can be any ground for hope ?" "But little, I fear," answered Sanzio. "Yet, I too know not what better to attempt. How do you propose, maiden," he resumed, turning to Margherita, "to gain speech with Leonardo di Sivori? Know you that he rarely stirs abroad, and that the convent gates are closely watched, and no entrance is permitted ?” "I do know it," replied Margherita; "but a woman's wit, who is seeking to save one she loves from destruction will, be sure, prove too strong for their bolts and bars, and too keen for their utmost vigilance." "A woman's wit!" rejoined Ernest hastily. "Surely you cannot dream of essaying this desperate enterprise yourself? No; if the attempt is to be made, I must be the one to make it. There may, there must be, danger; and—” "But why "Danger! yes," replied Margherita. am not I to share it? In other lands it may be woman's lot to be shielded by those she loves from all that may threaten her; but it is the birthright of a Vaude girl to share every danger that may assail her parent, or " She looked at Ernest, and broke off the sentence with a deep blush. “Nay, but dearest," said Ernest, bending over her, and speaking almost in a whisper, "there may be danger to thee, such as cannot assail one of us. Part of the nuncio's train is quartered in the convent; and report says they are infamous, even among those of their profession, for their licentious violence. If one of them-" "Fear not, my Ernest," said the maiden, her cheek still glowing with the same deep crimson; "such evil shall never befall thy Margherita. See here!" and she showed him a small dagger concealed in her girdle; "this will always shield me from the worst, should no other way of escape be open." The three men looked at one another with faces of anxiety and doubt. "O my father!" exclaimed Margherita, once more, flinging herself on his breast as she spoke, "I implore thee, let me go on this errand. I feel an overpowering conviction that it will prosper in my hands, under God's blessing, if thou dost allow it. And oh! think what a source of endless sorrow it will be to us hereafter, if thou shouldst refuse, and he should be lost to us in consequence. O Ernest! if thou dost indeed love me, plead for me, that this may be granted me." Arnold hid his face, and made a mute gesture of assent; while Ernest, pressing her to his bosom, exclaimed, "Go, my Margherita; and the blessing of God, and of thy beloved, will go with thee." CHAPTER XVII. This murderous shaft, that's shot, MEANWHILE Sivan had quitted the hall as soon as the proceedings had concluded, and escaping as well as he could from the expressions of approval and compliment that were showered upon him, retired to his favourite walk in the abbot's garden. He was exhausted by the excitement he had gone through, and depressed, as good men ever are, by the unsatisfying and ungenial nature of religious controversy. Is was true that he had had the advantage of his opponent in the discussion; though chiefly, as he was quite aware, because Conrad had not had the same advantages of study and access to the writings of the learned, which he had himself enjoyed in so uncommon a degree. As long as the argument had been confined to Scripture itself, his antagonist had fully maintained his ground; but when it passed on to the interpretation placed on texts by the early fathers, and to the practice of primitive antiquity, the superior learning of Father Justin's pupil became evident. Conrad found himself unable to answer some of his arguments, based on certain passages in authors with which he was but imperfectly acquainted; and, with a candour which moved Sivan's admiration, had admitted the fact, and requested time to peruse the authors referred to a circumstance which the Church party had regarded as a direct acknowledgment of defeat. But though Sivan had succeeded in convincing his audience, and to some extent in silencing his adversary, he was, as we have said, dispirited. Conrad, he could see plainly, was not won over. He doubted whether he had made any real impression on him: and where was the advantage of victory, unless that accompanied it? He had been, moreover, greatly moved by the simple, yet venerable appearance of the Valdese pastor, his quiet earnestness, his reverent handling of sacred things. It was plain to him, that whether or not Conrad might be mistaken in some of his opinions, yet his conviction was honest, and his motives pure. He seemed to have the cause of Christ, and of His Gospel, as strongly at heart as man could have it. Was this a man to be shunned, denounced, execrated, as the very child of perdition, as he was commonly represented? Sivan had seen too many instances of the world's injustice towards those whom it assailed with such charges, not to pause and reflect ere he concurred in them. Phares had suffered death as a rebel, Socrates as an atheist, Hermas as an apostate; yet it was impossible to conceive charges more groundless than these had been. Might not this fourth instance be of the same character as the others; and Conrad Biorno, though reprobated as a heretic, be a true disciple of |