At the sound of her voice Nobili starts up; he brushes away the tears that still roll down his cheeks.  Again he lifts Nera tenderly in his arms.  For that night Nera belongs to him; no one else shall touch her.  He bears her down-stairs to a carriage.  Then he disappears into the darkness of the night.

No one will leave the ball until there is some report of Nera’s condition from the doctor who has been summoned.  The gay groups sit around the glittering ballroom, and whisper to each other.  The “golden youth” offer bets as to Nera’s recovery; the ladies, who are jealous, back freely against it.  In half an hour, however, Countess Orsetti is able to announce that “Nera Boccarini is better, and that, beyond the shock, it is hoped that she is not seriously hurt.”

“You see, Malatesta, I was right,” drawls out the languid Franchi as he descends the stairs.  “You will believe me another time.  You know I told you and Orsetti that Nera Boccarini and Nobili understood each other.  He’s desperately in love with her.”

“I don’t believe it, all the same,” answers Malatesta, shaking his head.  “A man can’t half kill a girl and show no compunction—­specially not Nobili—­the best-hearted fellow breathing.  Nobili is just the man to feel such an accident as that dreadfully.  How splendid Nera looked to-night!  She quite cut out the Ottolini.”  Malatesta spoke with enthusiasm; he had a practised eye for woman’s fine points.  “Here, Adonis—­I beg your pardon—­Baldassare, I mean—­where are you going?”

“Home,” replies the Greek mask.

“Never mind home; we are all obliged to you.  You lead the cotillon admirably.”

Baldassare smiles, and shows two rows of faultless teeth.

“Come and have some supper with us at the Universo.  Franchi is coming, and all our set.”

“With the greatest pleasure,” replies Baldassare, smiling.

PART II.

CHAPTER I.

CALUMNY.

Baldassare was, of course, invited by the cavaliere to join the proposed expedition to the tombs of the Trenta and to the Guinigi Tower.  Half an hour before the time appointed he appeared at the Palazzo Trenta.  The cavaliere was ready, and they went out into the street together.

“If you have not been asleep since the ball, Baldassare—­which is probable—­perhaps you can tell me how Nera Boccarini is this morning?”

“She is quite well, I understand,” answered Adonis, with an air of great mystery, as he smoothed his scented beard.  “She is only a little shaken.”

“By Jove!” exclaimed the cavaliere.  “Never was I present at any thing like that!  A love-scene in public!  Once, indeed, I remember, on one occasion, when her highness Paulina threw herself into the arms of his serene highness—­”

“Have you heard the news?” asked Baldassare, interrupting him.