"'Tis ill work fighting in the dark,

 

Though skilled you be in use of lance;

 

A random¹ thrust may stretch you sark,

 

Though guided but by fickle² chance.

 

'Tis wisest, then, to fight in light,

 

For you can judge your foeman's skill;

 

And though in armour³ he be dight,

 

Your lance may find some place to kill."

 

 

The interview which had taken place between Mrs. Belswin and her Italian lover had been productive of a curious change in the demeanour of the latter. From being master he became slave, from commanding he changed to obeying; and taking advantage of this astonishing transformation⁴, Mrs. Belswin ordered her quondam master about like a dog. She saw that by a single flash of her fierce eyes at a critical moment she had inculcated the superstitious⁵ Italian with the idea that she was possessed⁶ of the evil eye, and had by so doing taken all the manhood out of him. This son of the south, who was decidedly brave in the presence of physical danger, was so completely the slave of superstition⁷ that he firmly believed Mrs. Belswin's eyes exercised a malignant⁸ influence upon him, against which he was powerless to struggle. Notwithstanding this terrible feeling, he was too much in love with her to think of removing himself from the dread⁹ fascination¹⁰ of her presence, and therefore, he accepted his new position with superstitious resignation. Once or twice, indeed, he attempted to exert his former authority; but the

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