live, scathless and void of care. But of thyself, what speed? say
quickly."

The youth frankly smiled.

"My pocket is rather low," he said, "although my hopes are not. I have
gained some honor, whatever its worth may be. And now, how fares the
gentle maid whom I so long to see?"

"Ah," replied Sartello, shaking his head sadly, "these women are indeed
a puzzle. I fear much that Rosa's mind has changed since your departure.
Absence, as the poets say, is love's worst bane. But let her go,
Gulielmo; fairer charms than hers will soon ease your pain."

Gulielmo stood for a moment as colorless as marble.

"Is this the reward," he said, at length, "of all my weary toil?"

"Pray comfort yourself," replied his friend. "I may as well tell you the
worst at once. They say that her wedding-dress is prepared. Jean Maret's
gold, and the importunities of old Gaspar, have been too much, fancy,
for her fickle resolution."

A single tear fell from Gulielmo, notwithstanding the proud compressure
of his lips.

"Let it be so," said he. "I will make no words about it. Neither will I
shun her sight. I will face it out, and shame them who think to flout me
thus."