As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. That was Leonardo’s motto. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful. Once more he was the searcher. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters.
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