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The marchesa's manner was strange, almost menacing. Fra Pacifico led Enrica across the sala to her own door. When he returned, the marchesa was again reading Count Nobili's letter. "A love-match in the Guinigi family!" She was laughing with derision. "What are we coming to?" She tore the letter into innumerable fragments. "My father, I shall leave for Lucca early to-morrow.
Prince Ruspoli met her glance, but said nothing. When Nobili appeared, Prince Ruspoli, who had handed Nera to a seat near a window, bowed to her and retired. "To the devil with Nobili!" was Prince Ruspoli's thought, as he resigned her. Nobili's eyes fell instinctively to the ground as he approached Nera.
That is how I read it." Enrica shook her head. That snake crawling between them was the first warning to her that she was still on earth. Till then it had seemed to her that Nobili's presence must be like paradise. Now for a moment a terrible doubt crept over her. Could happiness be sad? It must be so, for now she could not tell whether she was sad or happy.
A thousand excuses! The excellency will excuse me, but I have not yet lit the lamp on the stairs. I was resting. There are so many visitors to the Signora Marchesa. The excellency will not tell the Signora Marchesa that it was dark upon the stairs? Per pieta!" The shriveled old man placed himself full in Nobili's path, and held out his hands like claws entreatingly.
Carry them to Enrica." Count Nobili's head dropped upon his breast. He covered his face with his hands. "My son, I leave you in the hands of God. May He lead you and comfort you! But remember, the life of your wife is bound up in your life. Hitherto Enrica has lived upon hope. Deprived of hope, she will die." When Nobili looked up, Fra Pacifico was gone.
Before her stood the two grim palaces, the cavernous doorways and the sculptured arms of the Guinigi displayed on both: one, her old home; the other, that was to be her home. She saw herself go in here, cross the pillared court and mount upward. It was neither day nor night, but all shone with crystal brightness. Then Nobili's voice came to her, and she roused herself.
"This reparation made," continued Count Nobili "my name and hand given to her by the Church honor is satisfied: I will never live with her!" Was there no mercy in the man as he pronounced these last words? No appeal? No mercy? Or had the marchesa driven him to bay? The marchesa! Nobili's last words had shattered the whole fabric of her ambition!
But I include her in the just indignation with which I regard this house and its mistress, whose agent she has made herself to deceive me." Count Nobili's kindling eye rested on the marchesa. She, in her turn, shot a furious glance at the cavaliere. "'Explanations given! Then Trenta had dared to exonerate Enrica! It was degrading!"
"This is not a fair question," interrupted Fra Pacifico, coming to the rescue of the distressed Enrica, who sat speechless before her terrible aunt. "I know she still loves him. The love of a heart like hers is not to be destroyed by such a letter as that, and the unjust accusations it contains." Fra Pacifico pointed with his finger to Nobili's letter lying where he had placed it on the table.
She was, and is at this time, still irreconcilable. Nobili stands in the central window of his palace. He leans out over the street, a cigar in his mouth. A servant beside him flings down from time to time some silver coin among Leghorn hats and the beggars, who scramble for it on the pavement. Nobili's eyes beam as the populace look up and cheer him: "Long live Count Nobili! Evviva!"
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