often, though!” and that sentiment was echoed; the women suggested in addition the possibility of the bride Lisa having something on her conscience, seeing that she had lived in a castle two years and more.  The potential persuasions of Father Bernardus were required to get the bride to go away to her husband’s roof that evening:  when she did make her departure, the superstitious peasantry were not a merry party that followed at her heels.

At the break-up of the festivities Wilfrid received an intimation that his sister had arrived in Meran from Bormio.  He went down to see her, and returned at a late hour.  The ladies had gone to rest.  He wrote a few underlined words, entreating Vittoria to grant an immediate interview in the library of the castle.  The missive was entrusted to Aennchen.  Vittoria came in alarm.

“My sister is perfectly well,” said Wilfrid.  “She has heard that Captain Gambier has been arrested in the mountains; she had some fears concerning you, which I quieted.  What I have to tell you, does not relate to her.  The man Angelo Guidascarpi is in Meran.  I wish you to let the signora know that if he is not carried out of the city before sunset to-morrow, I must positively inform the superior officer of the district of his presence there.”

This was their first private interview.  Vittoria (for she knew him) had acceded to it, much fearing that it would lead to her having to put on her sex’s armour.  To collect her wits, she asked tremblingly how Wilfrid had chanced to see Angelo.  An old Italian woman, he said, had accosted him at the foot of the mountain, and hearing that he was truly an Englishman—­“I am out of my uniform,” Wilfrid remarked with intentional bitterness—­had conducted him to the house of an Italian in the city, where Angelo Guidascarpi was lying.

“Ill?” said Vittoria.

“Just recovering.  After that duel, or whatever it may be called with Weisspriess, he lay all night out on the mountains.  He managed to get the help of a couple of fellows, who led him at dusk into Meran, saw an Italian name over a shop, and—­I will say for them that the rascals hold together.  There he is, at all events.”

“Would you denounce a sick man, Wilfrid?”

“I certainly cannot forget my duty upon every point”

“You are changed!”

“Changed!  Am I the only one who is changed?”

“He must have supposed that it would be Merthyr.  I remember speaking of Merthyr to him as our unchangeable friend.  I told him Merthyr would be here.”

“Instead of Merthyr, he had the misfortune to see your changeable friend, if you will have it so.”

“But how can it be your duty to denounce him, Wilfrid.  You have quitted that army.”

“Have I?  I have forfeited my rank, perhaps.”

“And Angelo is not guilty of a military offence.”

“He has slain one of a family that I am bound to respect.”

“Certainly, certainly,” said Vittoria hurriedly.