men, who jested at everything, Gianluca adhered to his faith openly, and no one thought of laughing at him.  He must have possessed something of that wonderful simplicity, together with much of the extraordinary tact, which helped some of the early saints to be what they were—­the saints who were beloved rather than those who were persecuted.  Not, indeed, that his conduct was always saintly, by any means, nor his life without reproach.  But in an existence which ruins many young men forever he preserved an absolutely unaffected admiration for everything good and high and true, and had the rare power of asserting the fact, now and then, without being offensive to others.  Taquisara had no desire to imitate him, but was nevertheless very strongly attracted by him, and if Gianluca had ever needed a defender, the Sicilian would have silenced his enemies at the risk of his own life.  Gianluca, however, was universally liked, and had never been in need of any such old-fashioned assistance.

Since he had been in love with Veronica Serra, he was completely changed, and it was no wonder that his friend was anxious about him.  Taquisara, like most men of perfectly healthy mind and body, would have found it hard to believe that Gianluca was merely love-sick, and was literally ‘consuming himself,’ even to the point of death, in an unrequited passion.  It was certainly true, however, that he had lost strength rapidly and without the influence of any illness which could be defined, ever since the negotiations for Veronica’s hand had shown signs of coming to an unsatisfactory conclusion.  And they had lasted long.  Many letters had been exchanged.  The old Duca had been several times to the Palazzo Macomer, and the count and countess had found many reasons by which to put off their decision.  For Gianluca was a good match, and altogether an exceedingly desirable young man, and the countess had always thought that if she could not marry Veronica to Bosio, it might be wisest to accept Gianluca.  He was always in delicate health, Matilda reflected, and he might possibly die and leave his wife still absolute mistress of her fortune, if the marriage contract were cleverly framed with a view to that contingency.

But the young man himself had been diffident from the beginning, and at the first hesitation on the other side he had taken it for granted that all was lost.  His slight vitality sank instantly under the disappointment, he refused to eat, he could not sleep, and he was in a really dangerous state before ten days had passed.  Then he had sent for Taquisara, who visited him daily for nearly a week, encouraging him in every way, until to-day, when the news of the refusal was no more to be denied.  It was characteristic of the Sicilian that he at once attempted to interfere with destiny in favour of his friend.  He was not a man to lose time when time was precious.  His ardent temper loved difficulties, even when they were not his own.  Bold, untiring, discreet, and loyal, if there were anything to be done in Gianluca’s case, he was the man to do it.