Oh, the golden days at mountain-capped Corellia!—­that watching in the perfumed woods—­that pleading with the stars that shone over Enrica to bear her his love-sick sighs!  Oh, the triumph of saving her dear life!—­the sweetness of her lips in that first embrace under the magnolia-tree!  Fra Pacifico too, with his honest, sturdy ways—­and the white-haired cavaliere, so wise and courteous.  Cheats, cheats—­all!  It made him sick to think how they must have laughed and jeered at him when he was gone.  Oh, it was damnable!

His teeth were set.  He started up as if he had been stung, and stamped upon the floor.  Then like a madman he rushed up and down the spacious floor.  After a time, brushing the drops of perspiration from his forehead, Nobili grew calmer.  He sat down to think.

Must he marry Enrica?—­he asked himself (he had come to that)—­marry the lady of the sonnet—­Marescotti’s love?  He did not see how he could help it.  The contract was signed, and nothing proved against her.  Well—­life was long, and the world wide, and full of pleasant things.  Well—­he must bear it—­unless there had been sin!  Nobili did not see it, nor did he hear it; but much that is never seen, nor heard, nor known, is yet true—­horribly true.  He did see it, but as he thought these cruel thoughts, and hardened himself in them, a pale, scared face, with wild, pleading eyes, vanished with a shriek of anguish.

Others had loved him well, Nobili reasoned—­other women—­“Not so well as I” an inaudible voice would have whispered, but it was no longer there to answer—­others that had not been rejected—­others fairer than Enrica—­Nera!

With that name there came a world of comfort to him.  Nera loved him—­she loved him!  He had not seen Nera since that memorable night she lay like one dead before him.  Before he took a final resolve (by-and-by he must investigate, inquire, know when, and how, and by whom, all this talk had come), would it not be well to see Nera?  It was a duty, he told himself, he owed her; a duty delayed too long; only Enrica had so absorbed him.  Nera would have heard the town-talk.  How would she take it?  Would she be glad, or sorry, he wondered?  Then came a longing upon Nobili he could not resist, to know if Nera still loved him.  If so, what constancy!  It deserved reward.  He had treated her shamefully.  How sweet her company would be if she would see him!  At all events, he could but try.  At this point he rose and rang the bell.

When the servant came, Nobili ordered his dinner.  He was hungry, he said, and would eat at once.  His carriage he should require later.

CHAPTER IX.

NERA.