A portion of the congregation had heard the tumult and struggled out, and now stood close-packed on the steps under the double vault of the portal.

Among them the Countess's eyes, as she rode by, a sturdy man- at-arms on either hand, caught and held one face.

It was the face of a tall, lean man in dusty black; and though she did not know him she seemed to have an equal attraction for him; for as their eyes met he seized the shoulder of the man next him and pointed her out.

And something in the energy of the gesture, or in the thin lips and malevolent eyes of the man who pointed, chilled the Countess's blood and shook her, she knew not why.
Until then, she had known no fear save of her husband.

But at that a sense of the force and pressure of the crowd--as well as of the fierce passions, straining about her, which a word might unloose--broke upon her; and looking to the stern men on either side she fancied that she read anxiety in their faces.
She glanced behind.