As he stood there with the warm sunlight playing upon his features he seemed the very type of youthful and splendid manhood; an Apollo in exterior--in mind a Silenus.

My soul sickened at the sight of him.

I felt that the sooner this strong treacherous life was crushed the better; there would be one traitor less in the world at any rate.

The thought of my dread but just purpose passed over me like the breath of a bitter wind--a tremor shook my nerves.

My face must have betrayed some sign of my inward emotion, for Ferrari exclaimed: "You are fatigued, conte?
You are ill! Pray take my arm!" He extended it as he spoke.