All the time, he submitted with a good grace to do whatever she proposed, and on this afternoon he found himself waiting for her beside the band-stand.  At first he watched the passing carriages indifferently enough, supposing that his own liveries would presently loom up in the long line of high-seated coachmen and lacqueys, and having no especial desire to see them.  His position when in Corona’s company grew every day more difficult, and he thought as he stood by the stone pillar at the corner that he would on the whole be glad if she did not come.  He was egregiously mistaken in himself, however.  As the minutes passed he grew uneasy, and watched the advancing carriages with a feverish anxiety, saying to himself that every one must bring Corona, and actually growing pale with emotion as each vehicle turned the distant corner and came into view.  The time seemed interminable after he had once yielded to the excitement, and before another quarter of an hour had elapsed, Sant’ Ilario turned angrily away and left the Pincio by the stairs that descend near the band-stand towards the winding drive by which the Piazza del Popolo is reached.

It is not easy for a person who is calm to comprehend the workings of a brain over excited with a strong passion.  To a man who has lost the sober use of his faculties in the belief that he has been foully betrayed, every circumstance, every insignificant accident, seems a link in the chain of evidence.  A week earlier Giovanni would have thought himself mad if the mere idea had suggested itself to him that Corona loved Gouache.  To-day he believed that she had purposely sent him to wait upon the Pincio, in order that she might be sure of seeing Gouache without fear of interruption.  The conviction thrust itself upon him with overwhelming force.  He fancied himself the dupe of a common imposition, he saw his magnificent love and trust made the sport of a vulgar trick.  The blood mounted to his dark face and as he descended the steps a red mist seemed to be spread between his eyes and all surrounding objects.  Though he walked firmly and mechanically, saluting his acquaintances as he passed, he was unconscious of his actions, and moved like a man under the influence of a superior force.  Jealousy is that one of all the passions which is most sure to break out suddenly into deeds of violence when long restrained.

Giovanni scarcely knew how he reached the Corso nor how it was that he found himself ascending the dusky staircase which led to Gouache’s lodgings.  It was less than a quarter of an hour since San Giacinto had been there, and the old woman still held her pot of coals in her hand as she opened the door.  As she had pointed to the door when San Giacinto had come, so she now directed Giovanni in the same way.  But Giovanni, on hearing that Anastase was out, began to ask questions.

“Has any one been here?” he inquired.

“Eh!  There was a gentleman a quarter of an hour ago,” replied the woman.