At length, casting his eyes round the small chamber thus singularly tenanted, he observed a kind of closet, in which the priests' robes, and some articles used in the sacred service, were contained.

It suggested at once an escape from his dilemma: he pointed to it-- "There, Rodolf of Saxony, shalt thou pass some part of this night--a small penance for thy meditated crime; and tomorrow, as thou lookest for life, thou wilt reveal all." "Hark, ye, Tribune," returned the Saxon, doggedly; "my liberty is in your power, but neither my tongue nor my life.

If I consent to be caged in that hole, you must swear on the crossed hilt of the dagger that you now hold, that, on confession of all I know, you pardon and set me free.
My employers are enough to glut your rage an' you were a tiger.

If you do not swear this--" "Ah, my modest friend!--the alternative ?" "I brain myself against the stone wall! Better such a death than the rack!" "Fool, I want not revenge against such as thou.

Be honest, and I swear that, twelve hours after thy confession, thou shalt stand safe and unscathed without the walls of Rome.