There was another uneasy and suspicious glance thrown around her, however, before the door was closed.

When they were once more alone, the monk motioned for silence to the impetuous Don Camillo, who could scarce restrain his impatience until the intruder departed.
"Son, be prudent," he said; "we are in the midst of treachery; in this unhappy city none know in whom they can confide." "I think we are sure of Enrico," said the Donna Florinda, though the very doubts she affected not to feel lingered in the tones of her voice.
"It matters not, daughter.

He is ignorant of the presence of Don Camillo, and in that we are safe.

Duke of Sant' Agata, if you can deliver us from these toils we will accompany you." A cry of joy was near bursting from the lips of Violetta; but obedient to the eye of the monk, she turned to her lover, as if to learn his decision.

The expression of Don Camillo's face was the pledge of his assent.