ased, she became embarrassed and agitated,
and finally, after much pressing, assured me, her face crimsoned with
blushes the while, that if I ever came to claim her, she would be mine.

Now I am quite aware that my conduct in this respect was wrong. I was
too young, and my prospects were far too vague at that time, to justify
me in speaking of love to any woman, besides which, in so
unceremoniously laying siege to the beautiful Francesca's susceptible
heart, I might, for all that I could tell, be seriously interfering with
the count's plans for his daughter's future. But at the time neither of
us thought anything of this, or of any thing or being but ourselves; we
were perfectly content with the state of things as they were, happy in
the present, and quite agreed as to the future, to which, however,
neither of us gave a single serious thought. I do not think Francesca
was to blame in the matter, she had never had a mother to teach her
prudence, but _I_ certainly acted very wrongly, for, though little more
than a boy, I was old enough to know better.

I offer no excuse for my conduct, it was quite inexcusable, but as I am
telling the story of my life, I feel that I should not be dealing fairly
with my readers did I attempt to pass over my faults and misdeeds in
silence.

A day or two more passed swiftly away, I was rapidly regaining strength,
my fractured arm-bone had knit itself firmly together again--though of
course it was still quite useless, the splints not having been removed,
and the use of a sling promising to remain a necessity for some little
time longer--and I was revolving seriously in my mind the question of
what would be the best course to pursue in order to rejoin my ship, when
a little incident occurred which immediately diverted my thoughts in an
entirely different direction.

Francesca and I were sauntering slowly down the broad tree-bordered
drive which led from the main road to the chateau, when a man passed us.
Francesca stopped him, to ask a question or two, and to give him some
directions, and I thus got a full view of his features for perhaps quite
three minutes. To my intense surprise I recognised in him the
individual who had betrayed me to the French troops, and who had without
doubt betrayed them in turn to Bell' Demonio's guerilla band; in a word,
it was Guiseppe.

When our eyes met for the first time I saw in a moment that he not only
recognised me, but also that he was most anxious