"It is Galotti," said the count, and opened the door of the boudoir.

A strongly-made man entered, of middle height with a full face. His thin hair left a lofty arched brow completely free, the bright eyes were quick and observing, and the full lips denoted an energetic temperament and brilliant eloquence.

"Things are going on excellently," cried the count, advancing to meet him. "Everything is prepared for the decisive blow. The Sardinian party have lost courage; they are disorganized by the Austrian victory, and with one stroke the contemptible government they call Italian will crumble to pieces."

"Glorious! glorious!" cried Galotti, as he pressed Count Rivero's hand, and approached the lady, whom he greeted with all the grace of one accustomed to good society. "I bring good news too," he said, "they are ready at the Farnese Palace, and Count Montebello has, in answer to a confidential enquiry, made it clearly understood that he will take no steps to prevent Italy from becoming what was intended at the peace of Zurich."

"I will leave you, gentlemen," said Madame Balzer. "I will have breakfast prepared in the dining-room, and shall be at your disposal when your interview is ended."

Count Rivero kissed her hand, Signer Galotti bowed, and she withdrew through the door leading to her sleeping apartment.

"The king will go to Naples?" asked the count as soon as she had left the room.

"At the very first sign from us," replied Galotti, "a troop of brigands, formed of old soldiers of the Neapolitan guards, will await him on the coast, the Sardinian garrisons are always weak, and at the first signal the whole people will rise!"

"Do you think the moment has come for placing the match to our well-laid train?" asked the count.

"Certainly," replied Galotti; "what should we wait for? The Sardinian army is completely demoralized by the battle of Custozza, and is held in check by the Grand Duke Albert, so that it cannot be employed in the interior. The most rapid action is needful; in a few weeks Italy can be freed from the heavy yoke which weighs her down. Everyone is waiting longingly for the word, the giving of which is in your hand."

The count walked thoughtfully to the window.

"Everything has been prepared so long, thought over so carefully," said he, "and yet now the decisive moment approaches, now the eventful word--'Act!'--must be spoken, giving life and motion to our quiet preparations,--the doubt arises whether all is well organized. Yet we can no longer hesitate. We must send the watchword to Rome and Naples, and to Tuscany," he said, turning to Galotti; "here are three addresses," he added, taking from his portfolio three cards and carefully perusing them. "The text of the telegram is written below, the names, like the contents of the despatches, are perfectly unimportant, they will disclose nothing."

And with a trembling hand he held out the cards to Signor Galotti.

Madame Balzer rushed into the boudoir.

"Do you know, Count Rivero," she cried, "that the army in Bohemia is completely defeated? The news is spreading like wild-fire through Vienna, my maid has just heard it in the house."

The count gazed at her in blank dismay. His eyes opened wide with horror, a nervous movement convulsed his lips, and he hastily s.n.a.t.c.hed up his hat.

"Impossible!" cried Galotti. "General Gablenz has been victorious in several skirmishes; a great battle was not expected."

"We must hear what has happened," said the count, in a low voice, "it would be horrible if this intelligence were true."

He was about to hasten away. A violent peal at the bell was heard, and almost immediately a young man in the dress of a priest entered the room.

"Thank G.o.d! that I find you here, Count Rivero," he cried, "nothing must be done, the disaster is immense, Benedek is totally beaten, the whole army is in wild flight and confusion."

The count was dumb. His dark eyes were raised to heaven with a burning look, deep grief was painted on his features.

"We must act so much the more rapidly and energetically," cried Galotti; "if this news reaches Italy our confederates will be frightened and confused, the enemy will gain courage, and the lukewarm will become foes."

He stretched out his hand to take the cards which Rivero still held.

The count made a movement of refusal.

"How did you gain your information, Abbe Rosti?" he asked quietly.

"It has just been brought from the Hofburg to the Nuncio," replied the abbe. "Unhappily there is no doubt of its truth."

"Then the work of years is lost!" said Count Rivero, in a grave and melancholy voice.

"Let us use the present moment!" cried Galotti, "let us act quickly; then, let what will happen in Germany, we shall at least have restored Italy to her ancient rights, and Austria must be grateful to us if we give her in Italy the influence she has lost in Germany."

"No!" said the count, calmly, "we must not venture upon action before the situation is perfectly plain. Our whole force in Italy is quite strong enough to break the Piedmontese rule if the regular army is engaged and defeated by the victorious Austrian troops, but we are not in a position to effect anything against the army of Piedmont if it is free to act against us. We should uselessly sacrifice all our faithful friends, and we should destroy the organization we have formed with such toil, which will be useful to us in the future, and which we could never again bring to such perfection if it were now broken up. And I fear Victor Emanuel's army will be free, I fear Vienna will give up Italy."

"Give up Italy, after the victory of Custozza!" cried the Abbe Rosti, "it is impossible,--wherefore?"

"For Germany! which she will also lose!"

"But, my G.o.d!" cried Galotti, "that would have been done before the campaign, if done at all. Austria's forces in Germany would have been doubled--but now--"

"My dear friend," said the count, sighing, "remember the words of the First Napoleon: 'Austria is always too late--by one year, one army, and one idea!'"

"I cannot make up my mind to sit still," cried Galotti, energetically, "now that everything is prepared, and we seem almost to hold success in our hands."

"I do not desire that we should indifferently sit still," said Count Rivero; "we will never sit still," he added, with flashing eyes, "but we must perhaps begin again a long and toilsome work from the beginning. For the present we must not act hastily, and compromise individuals and events, risking the future before we see our way clearly. Do you know," he enquired of the abbe, "how the emperor received the intelligence and what he did?"

"The emperor was much cast down, as was natural," said the abbe; "he sent Count Mensdorff immediately to the army, that he might ascertain its condition. That is all we have yet heard."

"Mensdorff was right," said Count Rivero, thoughtfully; then, raising himself with an energetic movement, he said: "Once more, gentlemen, we must see clearly before we act; and our courage must not fail, even if we perceive long years of toil before us. Above all, I wish to be fully informed as to the present, then we will speak of the future."

He approached the lady, who had remained during the conversation gazing before her as if completely indifferent, and said, as he kissed her hand: "Auf Wiedersehn! chere amie!" then he added in a somewhat lower voice, "Perhaps the moment will soon come for opening so wide a field to your skilful industry, that all minor wishes will be forgotten!"

She looked up at him quickly for a moment, but she did not reply.

The two other gentlemen took leave, and left the room with the count.

The young lady remained alone.

A flashing look followed them as they withdrew.

"You wish to use me for your plans," she cried, "you seek to charm me with hopes of freedom and dominion, and you would prepare for me a gilded slavery? You forbid my heart to beat, because it cannot be so serviceable as your tool? Ah! you deceive yourself, Count Rivero! I need you, but I am not your servant, your slave! Well then, let war begin between us," she said, with determination; "not war to the death, but a war for rule; I will try to make your proud shoulders bear me up to power and independence. Independence!" said she, sighing, after a short silence, "how much I am short of it, yet let me go carefully and prudently onwards; first, I will see whether I cannot win back the unfaithful friend to whom my heart still clings, without the aid of my master."

She threw herself on the sofa, and looked thoughtfully before her.

"But, my G.o.d!" she cried, with anguish in her eyes, as she pressed her tender hand to her forehead, "I wish to win him back, and he is before the enemy, the great battle has been fought, perhaps he lies dead already upon the b.l.o.o.d.y field." And her eyes gazed into s.p.a.ce as if she actually saw the horrible picture her fancy had painted.

Then she leant back and a dark expression pa.s.sed over her face.

"And if it were so?" she said, gloomily, "perhaps it would be better for me, and I might then be free from the burning thorn I cannot tear from my heart. The count is right! such love is weakness, and I will not be weak! perhaps I should again be strong. But to know that he is living, to think that he belongs to me no longer, that he, in his beauty, is at the feet of another--"

She sprang up, a wild glow kindled in her eyes, her breast heaved high, her beautiful features were distorted by the vehemence of her emotion.

"Never, never!" she said, in a low, hissing voice. "If he were dead, I could forget him; but that picture will pursue me everywhere--will poison my life. Poison!" she repeated, and an evil flash pa.s.sed across her face. "How easy it was in days gone by," she whispered, "to destroy an enemy! Now--" Again she stared blankly before her. "But is it needful to poison the body to conquer difficulties?"

A wicked smile played around her beautiful mouth; her eyes flashed, and for a long time she sat thinking deeply.