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Updated: June 16, 2025
She was called Giacinta, it appeared, and had married a mason, one Tomaso Gozzo, by whom she had had seven children, Pierina, then Tito, a big fellow of eighteen, then four more girls, each at an interval of two years, and finally the infant, a boy, whom she now had on her lap.
It was an unendurable anguish. Giacinta was compelled to let her cry, and had to reflect upon their present situation unaided. They had passed the city gates. Voices on the coachman's box had given German pass-words. She would have screamed then had not the carriage seemed to her a sanctuary from such creatures as foreign soldiers, whitecoats; so she cowered on.
Wilfrid requested her to confide her hand to him. 'My hand is engaged, she said. Bowing ceremoniously, Wilfrid passed on, and Vittoria, with Carlo and Luciano and her maid Giacinta, followed between files of bayonets through the dusky passages, and downstairs into the night air. Vittoria spoke in Carlo's ear: 'I have been unkind to him. I had a great affection for him in England.
The door opened, and Giacinta, Vittoria's maid, appeared, bearing a lamp. She had been sitting outside, waiting to hear him stir before she intruded. He touched her cheek kindly, and thought that one could do little better than die, if need were, in the service of such a people. She said that her mistress was kneeling.
She put out her hand to communicate with Beppo. Another ball of pencilled writing answered to it. She read: 'Keep watch on this Austrian. Your maid is two hours in the rear. Refuse to be separated from me. My life is at your service. Beppo. Vittoria made her final effort to get a resolve of some sort; ending it with a compassionate exclamation over poor Giacinta.
Down below Giacinta was still sitting on the broken box with her infant across her lap, and a few steps away Pierina stood in front of Dario, watching him with an enchanted air whilst he finished his cigarette. Tito, lying low in the grass like an animal on the watch for prey, did not for a moment cease to gaze at them.
And inspecting the skirts more closely, 'You have a careless maid in that creature Giacinta; she lets paper stick to your dress. What is this? Vittoria turned her head, and gathered up her dress to see. 'Pinned with the butterfly! Laura spoke under her breath. Vittoria asked what it meant. 'Nothing nothing, said her friend, and rose, pulling her eagerly toward the lamp.
Swiftly, gentlemen, or she's lost. Giacinta read his meaning by signs, and caught her mistress by the sleeve, using force. She and Major de Pyrmont placed Vittoria, bewildered, in the carriage; De Pyrmont shut the door, and signalled to the coachman. Vittoria thrust her head out for a last look at her lover, and beheld him with the arms of dark-clothed men upon him.
Merthyr knew this for a hint against his leaving, as well as against the lady's character. "Let your mistress be assured that I shall on no account be long absent at any time." "Signore, I shall do so," said Giacinta. She brought him word soon after, that Countess d'Isorella was stirring. Merthyr met Violetta on the stairs. "Can it be true?" she accosted him first.
Vittoria slept on like an outworn child, while Giacinta nodded over her, and started, and wondered what embowelled mountain they might be passing through, so cold was the air and thick the darkness; and wondered more at the old face of dawn, which appeared to know nothing of her agitation.
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