I feel as sure of the identity of this man, whom you call
Matteo, with the traitor Guiseppe, as I am of my own existence. Believe
me, count, I would not speak so positively, did there exist the faintest
possibility of doubt."

"But, my good sir," returned the count somewhat tartly, "I assure you
that what you say is quite impossible. I repeat, I have known the man
all his life, and I have done him nothing but good. I have befriended
him in a thousand ways, and I know he would lay down his life rather
than bring harm to me and mine."

I saw that my efforts to undeceive the count were worse than useless,
and I therefore abandoned the attempt; at the same time his arguments
utterly failed to convince me that I had been mistaken, they did not
even raise the most transitory doubt in my mind; I therefore determined
to simply wait and watch the course of events.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

A NIGHT ATTACK UPON THE CHATEAU.

For the next two days, matters went on at the chateau much as usual.
Old Maria was as sedulously attentive as ever, her sole occupation being
apparently the preparation of tempting and strengthening dishes for my
consumption, and the concoction of tonic herbal medicines which she
administered with relentless severity.

The weather continued gloriously fine, enabling me to be in the open air
the greater portion of each day; and although the count was absent, his
beautiful daughter more than supplied his place, as far at least as I
was concerned; so that, what with judicious nursing and nourishment,
plenty of easy exercise in the delicious bracing mountain air, and the
delightful society of Francesca Paoli, I was rapidly gaining both in
health and spirits.

On the second evening after my conversation with Count Lorenzo
respecting the man whom he called Matteo Bartolozzi, Francesca and I
were slowly returning to the house, after a somewhat longer walk than
usual, when we were startled by the sound of a horse approaching at a
rapid gallop behind us. Turning round, we saw that it was the count.

He reined up when alongside of us, and, gaily saluting us, dismounted,
and walked the rest of the distance to the house with us. When we
reached the broad terrace in front of the chateau, he handed over his
still panting horse to one of the servants, and, placing an arm in mine,
dismissed his daughter, saying he had an important communication to make
to me.

The moment that Francesca was fairly out of ear-shot