158 RETRIBUTION. 



such a use, have termed proverbially "Fools Paper," some 

 daring hand had ventured, in ambiguous but intelligible terms, 

 to write up her accusation. 



But what was this to the " hand writing on the wall/' which 

 above every festive board, on the frescos of every sparkling saloon, 

 on the tapestry of her own chamber, presented itself in cha- 

 racters of blood before the eye of Beatrice. For a season, and 

 witli a view by braving to disarm suspicion, did the wretched 

 lady compel herself, or was compelled, perhaps, by her noble 

 family to face the world ; but the colour had fled her cheek ; 

 her dark eye grew hollow, and at last she veiled them from 

 public notice in a convent of Benedictine Nuns. 



There, none were more exemplary in their vigils, their 

 penances, their prayers, than sister Agatha, the name by which 

 the once proud Beatrice Doria was known amongst the nuns. 

 Never to one of them (whatever she might have done in the 

 confessional) did she open the dark secret of her soul; but 

 those of the sisterhood, who occupied adjoining dormitories, 

 told fearful tales of the sounds of agony groans from the 

 depths of overwhelming dread which, at times, were heard to 

 issue from her cell. Other of her habits caused remark. 

 Seldom in broad day-light, but never of an evening when the 

 nuns were assembled in the convent garden, was she of their 

 number ; and always after sunset did she keep the window of 

 her cell close shut, however sultry might be the weather. 

 Could Beatrice have feared the gentle breezes of a summer's 



