crowns,
for the period of my season at the _Fenice_. Dear idol of my heart!" she
went on, taking his hand and drawing him towards her, "why do you fly
from one for whom many a man would run the risk of broken bones? Love,
you see, is always love. It is the same everywhere; it is the sun of our
souls; we can warm ourselves whenever it shines, and here--now--it is
full noonday. If to-morrow you are not satisfied, kill me! But I shall
survive, for I am a real beauty!"

Emilio decided on remaining. When he signified his consent by a nod the
impulse of delight that sent a shiver through Clarina seemed to him
like a light from hell. Love had never before appeared to him in so
impressive a form.

At that moment Carmagnola whistled loudly.

"What can he want of me?" said the Prince.

But bewildered by love, Emilio paid no heed to the gondolier's repeated
signals.

If you have never traveled in Switzerland you may perhaps read this
description with pleasure; and if you have clambered among those
mountains you will not be sorry to be reminded of the scenery.

In that sublime land, in the heart of a mass of rock riven by a
gorge,--a valley as wide as the Avenue de Neuilly in Paris, but a
hundred fathoms deep and broken into ravines,--flows a torrent coming
from some tremendous height of the Saint-Gothard on the Simplon, which
has formed a pool, I know not how many yards deep or how many feet long
and wide, hemmed in by splintered cliffs of granite on which meadows
find a place, with fir-trees between them, and enormous elms, and where
violets also grow, and strawberries. Here and there stands a chalet and
at the window you may see the rosy face of a yellow-haired Swiss girl.
According to the moods of the sky the water in this tarn is blue and
green, but as a sapphire is blue, as an emerald is green. Well, nothing
in the world can give such an idea of depth, peace, immensity, heavenly
love, and eternal happiness--to the most heedless traveler, the most
hurried courier, the most commonplace tradesman--as this liquid diamond
into which the snow, gathering from the highest Alps, trickles through
a natural channel hidden under the trees and eaten through the
rock, escaping below through a gap without a sound. The watery sheet
overhanging the fall glides so gently that no ripple is to be seen on
the surface which mirrors the chaise as you drive past. The postboy
smacks his whip; you turn past a crag; you cross a bridge: suddenly