The first sight of such misery had given a sensible shock to his feelings: But that being past, He now advanced towards the Captive.

She heard his steps, and uttering a cry of joy, dropped the Rosary.
'Hark! Hark! Hark!' She cried: 'Some one comes!' She strove to raise herself, but her strength was unequal to the attempt: She fell back, and as She sank again upon the bed of straw, Lorenzo heard the rattling of heavy chains.

He still approached, while the Prisoner thus continued.
'Is it you, Camilla?
You are come then at last?
Oh! it was time! I thought that you had forsaken me; that I was doomed to perish of hunger.

Give me to drink, Camilla, for pity's sake! I am faint with long fasting, and grown so weak that I cannot raise myself from the ground.

Good Camilla, give me to drink, lest I expire before you!' Fearing that surprize in her enfeebled state might be fatal, Lorenzo was at a loss how to address her.
'It is not Camilla,' said He at length, speaking in a slow and gentle voice.
'Who is it then ?' replied the Sufferer: 'Alix, perhaps, or Violante.
My eyes are grown so dim and feeble that I cannot distinguish your features.