hat all the company were out hunting, shooting, and riding, in
the vale below or the mountain above. "Ah, dearest lady, what a fright we
have all been in about you! Signora Piaveni has not slept a wink, and the
English gentleman has made great excursions every day to find you. This
morning the soldier Wilhelm arrived with news that his master was
bringing you on."

Vittoria heard that Laura and her sister and the duchess had gone down to
Meran. Countess Lena von Lenkenstein was riding to see her betrothed
shoot on a neighbouring estate. Countess Anna had disappeared early, none
knew where. Both these ladies, and their sister-in-law, were in mourning
for the terrible death of their brother, Count Paul Aennchen repeated
what she knew of the tale concerning him.

The desire to see Laura first, and be embraced and counselled by her, and
lie awhile in her arms to get a breath of home, made Vittoria refuse to
go up to her chamber, and notwithstanding Aennchen's persuasions, she
left the castle, and went out and sat in the shaded cart-track. On the
winding ascent she saw a lady in a black riding habit, leading her horse
and talking to a soldier, who seemed to be receiving orders from her, and
presently saluted and turned his steps downward. The lady came on, and
passed her without a glance. After entering the courtyard, where she left
her horse, she reappeared, and stood hesitating, but came up to Vittoria
and said bluntly, in Italian:

"Are you the signorina Campa, or Belloni, who is expected here?"

The Austrian character and colouring of her features told Vittoria that
this must be the Countess Anna or her sister.

"I think I have been expected," she replied.

"You come alone?"

"I am alone."

"I am Countess Anna von Lenkenstein; one of the guests of the castle."

"My message is to the Countess Anna."

"You have a message?"

Vittoria lifted the embroidered cigar-case. Countess Anna snatched it
from her hand.

"What does this mean? Is it insolence? Have the kindness, if you please,
not to address me in enigmas. Do you"--Anna was deadly pale as she turned
the cigarcase from side to side--"do you imagine that I smoke, 'par
hasard?'" She tried to laugh off her intemperate manner of speech; the
laugh broke at sight of a blood-mark on one corner of the case; she
started and said earnestly, "I beg you to let me hear what the meaning of
this may be?"

"He lies in the Ultenthal, wounded; and his wish was that I shoul