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Taquisara turned half round, against the table, where he stood, and his voice was low and broken. "Yes, hers. You will know it soon when I have taken my love to my grave, and left her yours on earth." "Gianluca!" Taquisara could not speak, beyond that, but he laid his hand upon his friend's arm and clutched it, as though to hold him back.
Gianluca was improving, and before long he would walk. She had set her heart upon it, that he should be strong again. She would not have her people think that he was a cripple. The people were peasants, the Duchessa answered, peasants like any others. Why should the Princess of Acireale care what such creatures thought?
When the Duca and his wife went to dress for dinner they had some very disturbing ideas concerning the character of the young Princess of Acireale. Taquisara, almost for the first time in his life, did not know how to act, but in accepting Veronica's invitation he felt that he could really be of use to Gianluca, and he saw how unbendingly determined the young princess was that he should stay.
"But they have told her, of course!" interrupted Gianluca. "They have asked her " "Who told you so?" inquired Taquisara, incredulously. "And if any one has told you, why should you believe it? There are several millions on the one side, which Macomer wishes to possess, and there can be nothing on the other but the word of one of the interested persons.
And so those two fearless ones went through the days and weeks in twofold terror of themselves and each of the other, and the slow, wordless tragedy was acted before eyes that saw but did not understand. Still Gianluca refused to go away, and still Veronica refused to send for the syndic. She would not yield to the Duchessa, who found herself opposed both by her son and her son's wife.
I know that you feel responsible for me, in a sort of way, because you are married, and I am not. It is really absurd, dear. I am much better able to take care of myself than you are." "No doubt, in a way. You are more energetic. But as for writing to Gianluca I hardly know I wish you would not." "He writes very well," answered Veronica. "I will show you his letter.
"It is time for luncheon," she added, as she made the Duchessa sit down, nodded quickly to Gianluca, and went in. The regularity of the existence at Muro pleased the old couple, and contributed in a measure to allay their perpetual anxiety about their son and to calm their uneasiness about the whole situation.
Veronica laughed, somewhat relieved by the information. "I always remember everything you say," said Gianluca. "I think I know by heart all you have ever said to me." He spoke with a sort of grave and almost child-like conviction. "I shall remember everything you say to-day," he added, after a moment's pause. "I hope not!" exclaimed Veronica.
She had not thought that she had expected so much of the meeting. She certainly had not the slightest personal feeling for the man beside her. And yet, somehow, she was dismally disappointed. If this was the man who was dying of love, she infinitely preferred Bosio Macomer. Gianluca was evidently in bad health.
He, on his part, did his best at defence, but he could not bring himself to a real attack. He tried to disarm her, by sheer strength, but he failed utterly. Her wrist was more supple than the steel foil itself, and she was left-handed. It was rather wild play, but it was amusing to watch, and Gianluca looked on with delighted appreciation.
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