The air was loaded with perfumes;
choice pictures adorned the walls; and the tables were covered with
books and china ornaments. The windows, however, were strictly barred,
and every precaution appeared to be taken to prevent an attempt at
escape. Leonard cast an anxious look round as he entered the anteroom,
and its luxurious air filled him with anxiety. His conductress, however,
did not allow him time for reflection, but led him into another room,
still more richly furnished than the first, and lighted by a large
coloured lamp, that shed a warm glow around it. An old dwarfed African,
in a fantastic dress, and with a large scimetar stuck in his girdle,
stepped forward on their approach, and shook his head significantly.
"He is dumb," said the old woman, "but his gestures are easy to be
understood. He means that Nizza is worse."
Leonard heaved a deep sigh. Passing into a third room, they perceived
the poor girl stretched on a couch placed in a recess at one side. She
heard their footsteps, and without raising her head, or looking towards
them, said, in a weak but determined voice--"Tell your master I will see
him no more. The plague has again attacked me, and I am glad of it, for
it will deliver me from him. It will be useless to offer me any
remedies, for I will not take them."
"It is not Sir Paul Parravicin," replied the old woman.
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