Georgiana was found at the nearest village.  Gambier’s wounds had been dressed by an army-surgeon.  She looked at the dressing, and said that it would do for six hours.  This singular person had fully qualified herself to attend on a soldier-brother.  She had studied medicine for that purpose, and she had served as nurse in a London hospital.  Her nerves were completely under control.  She could sit in attendance by a sick-bed for hours, hearing distant cannon, and the brawl of soldiery and vagabonds in the street, without a change of countenance.  Her dress was plain black from throat to heel, with a skull cap of white, like a Moravian sister.  Vittoria reverenced her; but Georgiana’s manner in return was cold aversion, so much more scornful than disdain that it offended Laura, who promptly put her finger on the blot in the fair character with the word ‘Jealousy;’ but a single word is too broad a mark to be exactly true.  “She is a perfect example of your English,” Laura said.  “Brave, good, devoted, admirable—­ice at the heart.  The judge of others, of course.  I always respected her; I never liked her; and I should be afraid of a comparison with her.  Her management of the household of this inn is extraordinary.”

Georgiana condescended to advise Vittoria once more not to dangle after armies.

“I wish to wait here to assist you in nursing our friend,” said Vittoria.

Georgiana replied that her strength was unlikely to fail.

After two days of incessant rain, sunshine blazed over ’the watery Mantuan flats.  Laura drove with Beppo to see whether the army was in motion, for they were distracted by rumours.  Vittoria clung to her wounded friend, whose pleasure was the hearing her speak.  She expected Laura’s return by set of sun.  After dark a messenger came to her, saying that the signora had sent a carriage to fetch her to Valeggio.  Her immediate supposition was that Merthyr might have fallen.  She found Luigi at the carriage-door, and listened to his mysterious directions and remarks that not a minute must be lost, without suspicion.  He said that the signora was in great trouble, very anxious to see the signorina instantly; there was but a distance of five miles to traverse.

She thought it strange that the carriage should be so luxuriously fitted with lights and silken pillows, but her ideas were all of Merthyr, until she by chance discovered a packet marked I chocolate, which told her at once that she was entrapped by Antonio-Pericles.  Luigi would not answer her cry to him.  After some fruitless tremblings of wrath, she lay back relieved by the feeling that Merthyr was safe, come what might come to herself.  Things could lend to nothing but an altercation with Pericles, and for this scene she prepared her mind.  The carriage stopped while she was dozing.  Too proud to supplicate in the darkness, she left it to the horses to bear her on, reserving her energies for the morning’s interview,