much for her. She looked at the officer with a respectful emotion
which shook his heart. For the first time in her life a man had caused
her a keen emotion. She now, like other women, put the soul of the
stranger on a par with the noble beauty of his features and the happy
proportions of his figure, which she admired as an artist. Led by
accidental curiosity to pity, from pity to a powerful interest, she
came, through that interest, to such profound sensations that she felt
she was in danger if she stayed there longer.

"Until to-morrow, then," she said, giving the officer a gentle smile
by way of a parting consolation.

Seeing that smile, which threw a new light on Ginevra's features, the
stranger forgot all else for an instant.

"To-morrow," he said, sadly; "but to-morrow, Labedoyere--"

Ginevra turned, put a finger on her lips, and looked at him, as if to
say: "Be calm, be prudent."

And the young man cried out in his own language:

"Ah! Dio! che non vorrei vivere dopo averla veduta?--who would not
wish to live after seeing her?"

The peculiar accent with which he pronounced the words made Ginevra
quiver.

"Are you Corsican?" she cried, returning toward him with a beating
heart.