do what you will with me; deliver me up to your masters—but free that man, who is innocent!"
The Calabrian shaded bis eyes with his hand; he felt giddy before her.
"Is it she?" he whispered a comrade.
"It is she," said a Lombard, from the ranks. "I saw her before Verona; my shot killed a horse under her."
She turned her head to the soldier.
"I thank you for your witness. Now—do your duty. Bind me, and free your prisoner."
"Free him! So!—he has as much guilt as you."
"He has no guilt. Unloose him, I say; fasten me there in his stead; use those thongs upon me; it will not be the first time you scourged a woman. Take him down, and bind me there in his place, by every justice in earth and heaven!" Erceldoune's voice crossed her own, husky and forced with difficulty from his swollen throat.
"Do not heed her. She speaks only to save me"
The Calabrian laughed coarsely.
"Ah! This fine Capriote dog, is he your love-toy, then, 'llustrissima?"
"He is my victim. May not that better release him?" The coarse outrage had no power to wound
