Corona hesitated and stood leaning against the heavy curtain of a window for a moment.  Though the room was very dim, she could see the honest look in the young man’s eyes and she hesitated before she answered.  She had heard that day that two of her acquaintances had fallen fighting against the Garibaldians and she knew that Anastase was speaking of a very near possibility when he talked of being killed.  There were many chances that he was telling the truth, and she felt how deeply she should regret her unbelief if he should indeed meet his fate before they met again.

“You tell me a strange thing,” she said at last.  “You ask me to believe that this poor girl, of her own free will and out of love for you, followed you out of this room last night into the midst of a revolution.  It is a hard thing to believe—–­”

“And yet I implore you to believe it, princess.  A man who should love her less than I, would be the basest of men to speak thus of her love.  God knows, if things had been otherwise, I would not have let you know.  But was there any other way of taking her home?  Did I not do the only thing that was at all possible to keep last night’s doings a secret?  I love her to such a point that I glory in her love for me.  If I could have shielded her last night by giving up my life, you know that I would have ended my existence that very moment.  It would have done no good.  I had to confide in some one, and you, who knew half my secret, since I had told you I loved her, were the only person who could be allowed to guess the remainder.  If it could profit her that you should think me a villain, you might think me so—­even you, whom I reverence beyond all women save her.  But to let you think so would be to degrade her, and that you shall not do.  You shall not think that she has been so foolish as to pin her faith on a man who would lead her to destruction—­ah! if I loved her less I could tell you better what I mean.”

Corona was moved by his sincerity, if not by his arguments.  She saw all the strangeness of the situation; how he had been forced to confide in some one, and how it seemed better in his eyes that she should know how Faustina had really behaved, than think that the young girl had agreed to a premeditated meeting.  She was touched and her heart relented.

“I believe you,” she said.  “Forgive me if I have wronged you.”

“Thank you, thank you, dear princess!” cried Gouache, taking her hand and touching it with his lips.  “I can never thank you as I would.  And now, good-bye—­I am going.  Will you give me your blessing, as my mother would?” He smiled, as he recalled the conversation of the previous evening.

“Good-bye,” answered Corona.  “May all blessings go with you.”  He turned away and she stood a moment looking after him as he disappeared in the gloom.