s return from it, and so getting hand and brain
and soul service out of him. He expected no such a report of Vittoria's
indiscretion as Luigi had spiced with his one foolish lie. That she
should tell the relatives of an Austrian officer that Milan was soon to
be a dangerous place for them;--and that she should write it on paper
and leave it for the officer to read,--left her, according to Barto's
reading of her, open to the alternative charges of imbecility or of
treachery. Her letter to the English lady, the Austrian officer's
sister, was an exaggeration of the offence, but lent it more the look
of heedless folly. The point was to obtain sight of her letter to the
Austrian officer himself. Barto was baffled during a course of anxious
days that led closely up to the fifteenth. She had written no letter.
Lieutenant Pierson, the officer in question, had ridden into the city
once from Verona, and had called upon Antonio-Pericles to extract her
address from him; the Greek had denied that she was in Milan. Luigi
could tell no more. He described the officer's personal appearance,
by saying that he was a recognizable Englishman in Austrian dragoon
uniform;--white tunic, white helmet, brown moustache;--ay! and eh! and
oh! and ah! coming frequently from his mouth; that he stood square while
speaking, and seemed to like his own smile; an extraordinary touch of
portraiture, or else a scoff at insular self-satisfaction; at any rate,
it commended itself to the memory. Barto dismissed him, telling him to
be daily in attendance on the English lady.

Barto Rizzo's respect for the Chief was at war with his intense
conviction that a blow should be struck at Vittoria even upon the narrow
information which he possessed. Twice betrayed, his dreams and haunting
thoughts cried "Shall a woman betray you thrice?" In his imagination
he stood identified with Italy: the betrayal of one meant that of
both. Falling into a deep reflection, Barto counted over his hours of
conspiracy: he counted the Chief's; comparing the two sets of figures he
discovered, that as he had suspected, he was the elder in the patriotic
work therefore, if he bowed his head to the Chief, it was a voluntary
act, a form of respect, and not the surrendering of his judgement. He
was on the spot: the Chief was absent. Barto reasoned that the Chief
could have had no experience of women, seeing that he was ready to trust
in them. "Do I trust to my pigeon, my sling-stone?" he said jo