He tarried not to pay his respects to the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess at the Palazzo Pitti hard by, but galloped off post-haste to his wife’s villa, and, unannounced, surprised Isabella in the midst of preparations for a sudden journey!  If, as some maintained, she meant to follow her fleeing lover, Troilo, at all events she was determined to seek the Court of France, and throw herself upon the sympathy of Queen Caterina, her kinswoman, and crave her protection for herself and her babe!

Several letters had already passed between the two illustrious women.  Isabella, on her part, says:  “I have asked pardon of God for my sins, and have resolved to let things take their course”; but she implores Catherine to protect her little son.  In the last of these letters she writes:—­“Let your Majesty think of this letter as the last words of a person bound to you by the ties of blood, and consider them as the confidence of one who is about to die, resigned and repentant, who otherwise could only end her life in despair and desperation.”

The Duke judged his wife guilty, before she had offered any explanation of the tragic doings at the Villa, and his impulse was to dishonour her before her whole household.  The spirit of duplicity, which had haunted their married life, during eighteen random years of misunderstanding, distaste and estrangement, still ruled them both—­but Bracciano restrained his passion for a while.

He noted the preparations for hasty flight—­indicative of Isabella’s guilt—­but, what more than all else enraged him almost beyond the power of self-control, was the cry of an infant within Isabella’s apartments!  That child was not his.  Whose was it?

Isabella met her husband perfectly unabashed, and, if she expected an immediate explosion, she was agreeably though somewhat misgivingly surprised at his cordial greeting.  He asked her where she was going, and suggested that they should go away together.  Isabella of course prevaricated—­truth is a negative quality between those who doubt each other!  Then, to her great surprise, Bracciano began to express himself in terms at once tender and apologetic.

“The faults, and faults there are, have been all on my side,” he said, “but I wish to alter all this and begin a new course, happy, and well-regulated.  I suggest that bygones be bygones, and that we mutually agree to bury the past.  Let us, Isabella, begin an entirely new course of life and live henceforth only for each other.”  His fair words were matched by the mild expression he contrived to put into his face, and, although the Duchess distrusted them, or at least her sense of hearing, she met his advances handsomely.

The day passed over pleasantly, the rapprochement seemed to be real and sincere, and when the Duke invited her to accompany him upon a hunting expedition to Cerreto Guidi, on the morrow, his wife expressed her pleasure and acquiescence.  He himself set off early in the day, it was 10th July, and he asked Isabella to follow with her maidens leisurely.