Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. Her new husband had paid for a cadre of escorts back to Mantua.
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