me, then?"

"Did I not offer to work for you, if you were poor? And--I can't
remember what I said. Please, do not speak of that night."

"Emilia! as a man of honour, I was bound--"

She lifted her hands: "Oh! be silent, and let that night die."

"I may speak of that night when you drove home from Penarvon Castle, and
a robber? You have forgotten him, perhaps! What did he steal? not what
he came for, but something dearer to him than anything he possesses. How
can I say--? Dear to me? If it were dipped in my heart's blood!--"

Emilia was far from being carried away by the recollection of the scene;
but remembering what her emotion had then been, she wondered at her
coolness now.

"I may speak of Wilming Weir?" he insinuated.

Her bosom rose softly and heavily. As if throwing off some cloak of
enchantment that clogged her spirit! "I was telling you of this dress,"
she said: "I mean, of Countess Branciani. She thought her husband was
the Austrian spy who had betrayed them, and she said, 'He is not
worthy to live.' Everybody knew that she had loved him. I have seen his
portrait and hers. I never saw faces that looked so fond of life.
She had that Italian beauty which is to any other like the difference
between velvet and silk."

"Oh! do I require to be told the difference?" Wilfrid's heart throbbed.

"She," pursued Emilia, "she loved him still, I believe, but her country
was her religion. There was known to be a great conspiracy, and no one
knew the leader of it. All true Italians trusted Countess Branciani,
though she visited the Austrian Governor's house--a General with some
name on the teeth. One night she said to him, 'You have a spy who
betrays you.' The General never suspected Countess Branciani. Women are
devils of cleverness sometimes.

"But he did suspect it must be her husband--thinking, I suppose, 'How
otherwise would she have known he was my spy?' He gave Count Branciani
secret work and high pay. Then he set a watch on him. Count Branciani
was to find out who was this unknown leader. He said to the Austrian
Governor, 'You shall know him in ten days.' This was repeated to
Countess Branciani, and she said to herself, 'My husband! you shall
perish, though I should have to stab you myself.'"

Emilia's sympathetic hand twitched. Wilfrid's seized it, but it
proved no soft melting prize. She begged to be allowed to continue.
He entreated her to. Thereat she pulled gently for her hand, and
persisting, it was