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The Italian troops were resting on the march; mass had just been celebrated, and the men were at breakfast, when the outposts suddenly saw young Mansana galloping towards them, carry a lady before him and with two riderless horses secured to his saddle-girth. The lady was a spy from the enemy's camp; her two attendants officers of the enemy's force were lying wounded in the forest.
I ought first to have given you the chance of complying with my request, and have assured you that in that case you might henceforth regard me as a true and loyal friend." "I deem it an honour to count such a distinguished officer among my friends, and shall in future reckon with pride on the comradeship of Captain Mansana." "Very good! you pledge me your word?" "Yes, I promise this."
The sound of a sharp scream followed at that moment as Amanda, from her position of safety, suddenly saw Mansana, without a sound or even a warning movement, make a sort of spring towards the slight figure of her cousin. It seemed to her like the leap of a leopard on its prey. Another instant and Luigi might be a dead man.
Then she observed that, though the music was still going on, Mansana had quietly made his way to a door and passed out of the salon; probably the salvo of plaudits had roused him, as well as herself, to consciousness, and enabled him to perceive that he was no longer master of his feelings. Her anxiety stung her more sharply than before.
Now, for the first time, I can acknowledge to myself the truth; such a life would have been unworthy of Giuseppe Mansana."
Mansana had seen those same eyes dwelling on Luigi's, and there pulsed through his brain a thought destined to come back to him often enough afterwards, though for the moment it passed away as soon as it was formed. "What a silly, senseless business," he thought, "is all this in which I am entangled." But the little prattler at his side ran on: "Poor Luigi found us in the crowd.
Soon after the close of the war, while Mansana was quartered in Florence, a story was told, in one of the military cafés, of a certain Belgian officer, who, a couple of weeks previously, had been a frequent visitor to the place.
Now he knew how it was all to end. By four o'clock the next day, Mansana was being conducted through the ante-room, mirror-room, and concert-hall, to one of the Gothic apartments in the interior of the palace, where scattered about on the various tables lay photographs of the princess' last journey. He was informed that the princess would be ready immediately.
In Theresa's face, the fine, straight nose, the voluptuous mouth, the nobly modelled chin, the cheeks that curved so exquisitely, framed in their border of night-black hair, compelled universal admiration; but Mansana, with his low brows, his thin, tight-locked lips, obstinate square jaw, and close-cropped wiry hair, was hardly accepted as a handsome man.
The major saw no reason for concealment, and gave the names, one by one, merely adding quietly, that if Mansana felt an inclination to kill off all this small fry, he was quite welcome to the task! Mansana was eager to make straight for the café, where all these officers would now be assembled. Sardi, however, convinced him of the folly of such a course.
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