ABSTRACT
The day crept slowly on, and it was near midnight, when Mademoiselle de Sevrac heard the door unbolted, and saw a monk enter her solitary apartment. By his stature, she knew that it was not Padre Evangelista, and the garb, which scantily covered him, was wholly unlike that of the Abbot Palerma. Th e cowl was drawn so low over his face, as almost to conceal every feature, and the dim lamp, which was nearly exhausted, served to discover that he wore the habit of the fraternity, without affording light suffi cient to give Sabina an opportunity of guessing his age.
