“Ay; undoubtedly,” Weisspriess supported her.

“Then,” Laura smiled encouragement to Wilfrid, “you know nothing of Count Ammiani’s marriage after all?”

Wilfrid launched his reply on a sharp repression of his breath, “Nothing whatever.”

“And the common servant’s communication was not made to you?” Anna interrogated Weisspriess.

“I simply followed in the track of Pierson,” said that officer, masking his retreat from the position with a duck of his head and a smile, tooth on lip.

“How could you ever suppose, child, that a common servant would be sent to deliver such tidings? and to Major Weisspriess!” the duchess interposed.

This broke up the Court of inquiry.

Weisspriess shortly after took his leave, on the plea that he wished to prove his friendliness by accompanying Private Pierson, who had to be on duty early next day in Milan.  Amalia had seen him breaking from Anna in extreme irritation, and he had only to pledge his word that he was really bound for Milan to satisfy her.  “I believe you to be at heart humane,” she said meaningly.

“Duchess, you may be sure that I would not kill an enemy save on the point of my sword,” he answered her.

“You are a gallant man,” said Amalia, and pride was in her face as she looked on him.

She willingly consented to Wilfrid’s sudden departure, as it was evident that some shot had hit him hard.

On turning to Laura, the duchess beheld an aspect of such shrewd disgust that she was provoked to exclaim:  “What on earth is the matter now?”

Laura would favour her with no explanation until they were alone in the duchess’s boudoir, when she said that to call Weisspriess a gallant man was an instance of unblushing adulation of brutal strength:  “Gallant for slaying a boy?  Gallant because he has force of wrist?”

“Yes; gallant;—­an honour to his countrymen:  and an example to some of yours,” Amalia rejoined.

“See,” cried Laura, “to what a degeneracy your excess of national sentiment reduces you!”

While she was flowing on, the duchess leaned a hand across her shoulder, and smiling kindly, said she would not allow her to utter words that she would have to eat.  “You saw my chasseur step up to me this evening, my Laura?  Well, not to torment you, he wished to sound an alarm cry after Angelo Guidascarpi.  I believe my conjecture is correct, that Angelo Guidascarpi was seen by Major Weisspriess below, and allowed to pass free.  Have you no remark to make?”

“None,” said Laura.

“You cannot admit that he behaved like a gallant man?” Laura sighed deeply.  “Perhaps it was well for you to encourage him!”

The mystery of Angelo’s interview with Weisspriess was cleared the next night, when in the midst of a ball-room’s din, Aennchen, Amalia’s favourite maid, brought a letter to Laura from Countess Ammiani.  These were the contents: