the death of Count Paul.

"It was not?" said Anna. "They had a misunderstanding, I know. But you
tell me the man fought with a dagger. It could not be Count Ammiani.
The dagger is an assassin's weapon, and there are men of honour in Italy
still."

She called to a servant in the castle-yard, and sent him down with orders
to stop the soldier Wilhelm.

"We heard this morning that you were coming, and we thought it curious,"
she observed; and called again for her horse to be saddled. "How far is
this place where he is lying? I have no knowledge of the Ultenthal. Has
he a doctor attending him? When was he wounded? It is but common
humanity to see that he is attended by an efficient doctor. My nerves
are unstrung by the recent blow to our family; that is why--Oh, my
father! my holy father!" she turned to a grey priest's head that was
rising up the ascent, "I thank God for you! Lena is away riding; she
weeps constantly when she is within four walls. Come in and give me
tears, if you can; I am half mad for the want of them. Tears first;
teach me patience after."

The old priest fanned his face with his curled hat, and raised one hand
as he uttered a gentle chiding in reproof of curbless human sorrow. Anna
said to Vittoria, coldly, "I thank you for your message:" she walked into
the castle by his side, and said to him there: "The woman you saw outside
has a guilty conscience. You will spend your time more profitably with
her than with me. I am past all religious duties at this moment.
You know, father, that I can open my heart. Probe this Italian woman;
search her through and through. I believe her to be blood-stained and