"And I am not a traitor," rejoined the priest, mildly.
[Illustration: UNDER GUARD.]
Girasole was silent, and stood in thought. The men at the grave had
heard every word of this conversation. Once they laughed in scorn when
the priest alluded to the absurdity of a young girl escaping. It was
too ridiculous. Their sympathies were evidently with the priest. The
charge against him could not be maintained.
"Well," said Girasole at length, "I don't trust you. You may be
traitors, after all. I will have you guarded, and if I find out any
thing that looks like treason, by Heaven I will have your life, old
man, even if you should be the Holy Father himself; and as to the
lady--well, I will find plenty of ways," he added, with a sneer, "of
inflicting on her a punishment commensurable with her crime. Here, you
men, come along with me," he added, looking at the men by the grave.
"But we want to finish poor Antonio's grave," remonstrated one of the
men.
"Bah! he'll keep," said Girasole, with a sneer.
"Can't one of us stay?" asked the man.
"No, not one; I want you all. If they are traitors, they are deep
ones. They must be guarded; and, mind you, if they escape, you shall
suffer."
With these words he led the way, and the priest and Ethel followed
him. After these came the men, who had thrown down their shovels
beside the grave. They all walked on in silence, following Girasole,
who led the way to a place beyond the grave, and within view of one of
the fires formerly alluded to.
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