"The Duchess, monseigneur."

Emilio sprang into the gondola, where he was seized in a pair of soft
arms--an embrace of iron--and dragged down on to the cushions, where
he felt the heaving bosom of an ardent woman. And then he was no more
Emilio, but Clarina's lover; for his ideas and feelings were so
bewildering that he yielded as if stupefied by her first kiss.

"Forgive this trick, my beloved," said the Sicilian. "I shall die if
you do not come with me."

And the gondola flew over the secret water.



At half-past seven on the following evening, the spectators were again
in their places in the theatre, excepting that those in the pit always
took their chances of where they might sit. Old Capraja was in
Cataneo's box.

Before the overture the Duke paid a call on the Duchess; he made a
point of standing behind her and leaving the front seat to Emilio next
the Duchess. He made a few trivial remarks, without sarcasm or
bitterness, and with as polite a manner as if he were visiting a
stranger.

But in spite of his efforts to seem amiable and natural, the Prince
could not control his expression, which was deeply anxious. Bystanders
would have ascribed such a change in his usually placid features to