"Mario n.o.bili, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife?"

sternly repeated Fra Pacifico, fixing his dark eyes upon him.

"I will," answered n.o.bili. Whatever his feelings were, n.o.bili had mastered them.

For an instant n.o.bili's eye met Enrica's. He turned hastily away.

Enrica sighed. Whatever hopes had buoyed her up were gone. n.o.bili had turned away from her!

Fra Pacifico placed Enrica's hand in that of n.o.bili. Poor little hand--how it trembled! Ah! would n.o.bili not recall how fondly he had clasped it? What kisses he had showered upon each rosy little finger!

So lately, too! No--n.o.bili is impa.s.sive; not a feature of his face changes. But the contact of n.o.bili's beloved hand utterly overcame Enrica. The limit of her endurance was reached. Again the shadow of death was upon her--the shadow that had led her to the dark abyss.

When n.o.bili dropped her hand; Enrica leaned forward upon the edge of the marble rails. She hid her head upon her arms. Her long hair, escaped from the fastening, shrouded her face.

"Benedicat vos omnipotens Deus!" spoke the deep voice of Fra Pacifico.

He made the sign of the cross. The address followed. The priest's last words died away in sonorous echoes. It was done. They were man and wife!

Fra Pacifico had by no outward sign betrayed what he felt during the discharge of his office; but his conscience sorely smote him. He asked himself with dismay if, in helping Enrica, he had not committed a mortal sin? Hitherto he had defended Count n.o.bili; now his whole soul rose against him. "Would n.o.bili say nothing in justification?"

Spite of himself, Fra Pacifico's fists clinched themselves under his vestments.

But n.o.bili was about to speak. He gave a hurried glance round the circle--upon Enrica kneeling at the altar; with the air of a man who forces himself to do a hateful penance, he broke silence.

"In the presence of the blessed sacrament"--his voice was thick and hoa.r.s.e--"I declare that, after the explanations given, I withdraw my accusations. I hold that lady, now Countess n.o.bili"--and he pointed to the motionless ma.s.s of white drapery kneeling beside him--"I hold that lady innocent in thought and life. But I include her in the just indignation with which I regard this house and its mistress, whose agent she has made herself to deceive me."

Count n.o.bili's kindling eye rested on the marchesa. She, in her turn, shot a furious glance at the cavaliere.

"'Explanations given!' Then Trenta had dared to exonerate Enrica! It was degrading!"

"This reparation made," continued Count n.o.bili--"my name and hand given to her by the Church--honor is satisfied: I will never live with her!"

Was there no mercy in the man as he p.r.o.nounced these last words? No appeal? No mercy? Or had the marchesa driven him to bay?

The marchesa!--n.o.bili's last words had shattered the whole fabric of her ambition! Never for a moment had the marchesa doubted that, the marriage once over, n.o.bili would have seriously refused the splendid position she offered him. Look at her!--She cannot conceal her consternation.

"I invite you, therefore, Maestro Guglielmi"--the studied calmness of n.o.bili's manner belied the agitation of his voice and aspect--"you, Maestro Guglielmi, who have been called here expressly to insult me--I invite you to advise the Marchesa Guinigi to accept what I am willing to offer."

"To insult you, Count n.o.bili?" exclaimed Guglielmi, looking round.

(Guglielmi had turned aside to write a few hurried words upon his tablets, torn out the leaf, and slipped it into the marchesa's hand.

So rapidly was this done, no one had perceived it.) "To insult you?

Surely not to insult you! Allow me to explain."

"Silence!" thundered Fra Pacifico standing before the altar. "In the name of G.o.d, silence! Let those who desire to wrangle choose a fitter place. There can be no contentions in the presence of the sacrament.

The declaration of Count n.o.bili's belief in the virtue of his wife I permitted. I listened to what followed, praying that, if human aid failed, G.o.d, hearing his blasphemy against the holy sacrament of marriage, might touch his heart. In the hands of G.o.d I leave him!"

Having thus spoken, Fra Pacifico replaced the Host in the ciborium, and, a.s.sisted by Angelo, proceeded to divest himself of his robes, which he laid one by one upon the altar.

At this instant the marchesa rose and left the chapel. Count n.o.bili's eyes followed her with a look of absolute loathing. Without one glance at Enrica, still immovable, her head buried on her arms, n.o.bili left the altar. He walked slowly to the window at the farther end of the chapel. Turning his back upon all present, he took from his pocket a parchment, which he perused with deep attention.

All this time Cavaliere Trenta, radiant in his official costume, his white staff of office in his right hand, had remained standing behind Enrica. Each instant he expected to see her rise, when it would devolve on him to lead her away; but she had not stirred. Now the cavaliere felt that the fitting moment had fully come for Enrica to withdraw. Indeed, he wondered within himself why she had remained so long.

"Enrica, rise, my child," he said, softly. "There is nothing more to be done. The ceremony is over."

Still Enrica did not move. Fra Pacifico leaned over the altar-rails, and gently raised her head. It dropped back upon his hand--Enrica had fainted.

This discovery caused the most terrible commotion. Pipa, who had watched every thing from the door, screamed and ran forward. Fra Pacifico was bending over the prostrate girl, supported in the arms of the cavaliere.

"I feared this," Fra Pacifico whispered. "Thank G.o.d, I believe it is only momentary! We must carry her instantly to her room. I will take care of her."

"Poor, broken flower!" cried Trenta, "who will raise thee up?" His voice came thick, struggling with sobs. "Can you see that unmoved, Count n.o.bili?" Trenta pointed to the retreating figure of Fra Pacifico bearing Enrica in his arms.

At the sound of Trenta's voice, Count n.o.bili started and turned around. Enrica had already disappeared.

"You will soon give her another bridegroom--he will not leave her as you have done--that bridegroom will be Death! To-day it is the bridal-veil--to-morrow it will be the shroud. Not a month ago she lay upon what might have been her death-bed. Your infamous letter did that!" The remembrance of that letter roused the cavaliere out of himself; he cared not what he said. "That letter almost killed her.

Would to G.o.d she had died! What has she done? She is an angel! We were all here when you signed the contract. Why did you break it?" Trenta's shrill voice had risen into a kind of wail. "Do you mean to doubt what I told you at Lucca? I swear to you that Enrica never knew that she was offered in marriage to Count Marescotti--I swear it!--I did it--it was my fault. I persuaded the marchesa. It was I. Enrica and Count Marescotti never met but in my presence. And you revenge yourself on her? If you had the heart of a man, you could not do it!"

"It is because I have the heart of a man, I will not suffer degradation!" cried n.o.bili. "It is because I have the heart of a man, I will not sink into an unworthy tool! This is why I refuse to live with her. She is one of a vile conspiracy. She has joined with the marchesa against me. I have been forced to marry her. I will not live with her!"

Count n.o.bili stopped suddenly. An agonized expression came into his face.

"I screened her in the first fury of my anger--I screened her when I believed her guilty. Now it is too late--G.o.d help her!" He turned abruptly away.

Cavaliere Trenta, whose vehemence had died away as suddenly as it had risen, crept to the door. He threw up his hands in despair. There was no help for Enrica!

All this time Maestro Guglielmi's keen eyes had noted every thing. He was on the lookout for evidence. Persons under strong emotions, as a rule, commit themselves. Count n.o.bili was young and hot-headed. Count n.o.bili would probably commit himself. Up to this time Count n.o.bili had said nothing, however, that could be made use of. Guglielmi's ready brain worked incessantly. If he could carry out the plan he had formed, he might yet be a judge within the year. Already Guglielmi feels the touch of the soft fur upon his official robes!

After the cavaliere's departure, Guglielmi advanced. He had been standing so entirely concealed in the shadow thrown by the altar, that n.o.bili had forgotten his presence. n.o.bili now stared at him in angry surprise.

"With your permission," said the lawyer, with a low bow, accosting n.o.bili, "I hope to convince you how much you have wronged me by your accusation."

"What accusation?" demanded the count, drawing back toward the window.

"I do not understand you."

Guglielmi was the marchesa's adviser; Count n.o.bili hated him.

"Your accusation that 'I am here to insult you.' If you will do me the honor, Count n.o.bili, to speak to me in private"--Guglielmi glanced at Silvestro, Adamo, and Angelo, peering out half hid by the altar--"if you will do me this honor, I will prove to you that I am here to serve you."

"That is impossible," answered n.o.bili. "Nor do I care. I leave this house immediately."

"But allow me to observe, Count n.o.bili," and Maestro Guglielmi drew himself up with an air of offended dignity, "you are bound as a gentleman to retract those words, or to hear my explanation." (Delay at any price was Guglielmi's object.) "Surely, Count n.o.bili, you cannot refuse me this satisfaction?"

Count n.o.bili hesitated. What could this strange man have to say to him?

Guglielmi watched him.

"You will spare me half an hour?" he urged. "That will suffice."

Count n.o.bili looked greatly embarra.s.sed.

"A thousand thanks!" exclaimed Guglielmi, accepting his silence for consent. "I will not trespa.s.s needlessly on your time. Permit me to find some one to conduct you to a room."