"God grant
that Monte-Leone recover his liberty, since he is your friend! But,
Taddeo, do not trust to his adventurous mind; he is a hurricane,
enveloping all in his path. Heaven grant he may not bear you away with
him."

This conversation on this subject, so painful to the mother and annoying
to the son, ended here.

"Will you deign, Signorina," said the Marquis to Aminta, "to accept me
as a guest for a few days?"

"Certainly, if you are not afraid of our retreat. Besides," added she,
with a smile, "_one must have suffered as much as Leonora's lover, not
to be happy in the paradise of Sorrento_."

Maulear remembered the words he had written on the wall of Tasso's
house. But before he could express his astonishment and joy, Aminta was
gone. Just then it was announced to Maulear, that his horse waited him
at the gate of the park.

"We will accompany you thither (my sister and I)," said Taddeo.

Signora Rovero called Aminta to her, and added: "The air is keen, my
child: cover your head with your lace veil. It becomes you."

Maulear turned quickly toward Aminta with his mind full of fear and
surprise--

"I am afraid I have lost my veil. I looked for it this morning, but
could not find it." Aminta seemed annoyed. Her emotion was perceived at
once by Maulear, who said to himself: "What mystery is this? why conceal
it from me?" The coincidence of a veil being found by him, and of Aminta
having lost one, made him keenly anxious: he was terrified, confounded,
and so excited, that he could scarcely speak to Taddeo and Aminta as he
crossed the park with them.

"Remember," said Rovero to him, "that my mother and sister will expect
you here in a few days."

"In a few days," said Aminta, giving the Marquis her sweetest smile.

"In a few days," replied Maulear, as he mounted his horse, and cast on
the young girl a look of doubting love. He then galloped off, and soon
disappeared in the long road to Sorrento.

When he returned to Naples, the whole city was busy with the approaching
trial of Monte-Leone, who was so beloved by one portion of the community
and so unpopular with the other. The nobility of the two Sicilies
deplored the errors of the Count, and regretted that one of the most
illustrious of the great names of Naples should embrace and defend so
plebeian a cause; one in their eyes so utterly without interest as that
of popular rights. But it was wounded at the idea that a peer should die
by the hand of the ex