ee at
Gorice, told me that she would never have believed in the possibility of
such a creature existing if she had not known Count Torriano.

"Though he is a vigorous lover," she continued, "it is a matter of great
difficulty with him to obtain the crisis; and the wretched woman in his
arms is in imminent danger of being strangled to death if she cannot
conceal her amorous ecstacy. He cannot bear to see another's pleasure. I
pity his wife most heartily."

I will now relate the incident which put an end to my relations with this
venomous creature.

Amidst the idleness and weariness of Spessa I happened to meet a very
pretty and very agreeable young widow. I made her some small presents,
and finally persuaded her to pass the night in my room. She came at
midnight to avoid observation, and left at day-break by a small door
which opened on to the road.

We had amused ourselves in this pleasant manner for about a week, when
one morning my sweetheart awoke me that I might close the door after her
as usual. I had scarcely done so when I heard cries for help. I quickly
opened it again, and I saw the scoundrelly Torriano holding the widow
with one hand while he beat her furiously with a stick he held in the
other. I rushed upon him, and we fell together, while the poor woman made
her escape.

I had only my dressing-gown on, and here I was at a disadvantage; for
civilized man is a poor creature without his clothes. However, I held the
stick with one hand, while I squeezed his throat with the other. On his
side he clung to the stick with his right hand, and pulled my hair with
the left. At last his tongue started out and he had to let go.

I was on my feet again in an instant, and seizing the stick I aimed a
sturdy blow at his head, which, luckily for him, he partially parried.

I did not strike again, so he got up, ran a little way, and began to pick
up stones. However, I did not wait to be pelted, but shut myself in my
room and lay down on the bed, only sorry that I had not choked the
villain outright.

As soon as I had rested I looked to my pistols, dressed myself, and went
out with the intention of looking for some kind of conveyance to take me
back to Gorice. Without knowing it I took a road that led me to the
cottage of the poor widow, whom I found looking calm though sad. She told
me she had received most of the blows on her shoulders, and was not much
hurt. What vexed her was that the affair would become public, a