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Rh and drained the whole contents. All her efforts were now to be exerted to keep her unfortunate parent amused. With a strong effort she mastered her agitation—she helped her to gather flowers—she made them into wreaths for her hair—she pointed out her image in the fountain, and Margaretta laughed with delight. After a while she complained of being fatigued. Beatrice thought, with an agony of apprehension, of the sleep that was quickly coming over her. In a few moments more, Donna Margaretta was in a profound slumber. The two servants, the moment their mistress was quiet, seized the opportunity to depart: Marcelato seek a neighbouring village, whither two of the domestics had gone to attend the festival of St. Francis, and warn them against an abrupt return: Pedro to their own village, to learn, if possible, what was likely to be the stay of the soldiers. Evening was coming on fast, and not a moment was to be lost. Beatrice could hardly force herself to tell them not to return if the least peril was in the attempt. They departed with the utmost caution—scarce a rustle among the leaves told her she was alone. The next two hours passed in listening to every noise—the waving of a bough made