Viola, weep not, unless thou givest me the holy right to kiss away thy tears!" And that beautiful face, no more averted, drooped upon his bosom; and as he bent down, his lips sought the rosy mouth: a long and burning kiss,--danger, life, the world was forgotten! Suddenly Zanoni tore himself from her.
"Hearest thou the wind that sighs, and dies away?
As that wind, my power to preserve thee, to guard thee, to foresee the storm in thy skies, is gone.

No matter.

Haste, haste; and may love supply the loss of all that it has dared to sacrifice! Come." Viola hesitated no more.

She threw her mantle over her shoulders, and gathered up her dishevelled hair; a moment, and she was prepared, when a sudden crash was heard below.
"Too late!--fool that I was, too late!" cried Zanoni, in a sharp tone of agony, as he hurried to the door.

He opened it, only to be borne back by the press of armed men.