Some hours later, Countess Lena appeared, bringing a Trentino doctor.  She said when she beheld Vittoria, “Are you our evil genius, then?” Vittoria felt that she must necessarily wear that aspect to them.

Still greater was Lena’s amazement when she looked on Wilfrid.  She passed him without a sign.

Vittoria had to submit to an interview with both sisters before her departure.  Apart from her distress on their behalf, they had always seemed as very weak, flippant young women to her, and she could have smiled in her heart when Anna pointed to a day of retribution in the future.

“I shall not seek to have you assassinated,” Anna said; “do not suppose that I mean the knife or the pistol.  But your day will come, and I can wait for it.  You murdered my brother Paul:  you have tried to murder my brother Karl.  I wish you to leave this place convinced of one thing:—­you shall be repaid for it.”

There was no direct allusion either to Weisspriess or to Wilfrid.

Lena spoke of the army.  “You think our cause is ruined because we have insurrection on all sides of us:  you do not know our army.  We can fight the Hungarians with one hand, and you Italians with the other—­with a little finger.  On what spot have we given way?  We have to weep, it is true; but tears do not testify to defeat; and already I am inclined to pity those fools who have taken part against us.  Some have experienced the fruits of their folly.”

This was the nearest approach to a hint at Wilfrid’s misconduct.

Lena handed Leone’s pass to Vittoria, and drawing out a little pocket almanac, said, “You proceed to Milan, I presume.  I do not love your society; mademoiselle Belloni or Campa:  yet I do not mind making an appointment—­the doctor says a month will set my brother on his feet again,—­I will make an appointment to meet you in Milan or Como, or anywhere in your present territories, during the month of August.  That affords time for a short siege and two pitched battles.”

She appeared to be expecting a retort.

Vittoria replied, “I could beg one thing on my knees of you, Countess Lena.”

“And that is—?” Lena threw her head up superbly.

“Pardon my old friend the service he did me through friendship.”

The sisters interchanged looks.  Lena flushed angrily.

Anna said, “The person to whom you allude is here.”

“He is attending on your brother.”

“Did he help this last assassin to escape, perchance?”

Vittoria sickened at the cruel irony, and felt that she had perhaps done ill in beginning to plead for Wilfrid.

“He is here; let him speak for himself:  but listen to him, Countess Lena.”

“A dishonourable man had better be dumb,” interposed Anna.

“Ah! it is I who have offended you.”

“Is that his excuse?”

Vittoria kept her eyes on the fiercer sister, who now declined to speak.