"Send some one to the Serristori barracks to say that a Zouave has
been hurt and is at my house," he said. Therewith he entered the
carriage and ordered the coachman to drive home.

"In heaven's name, what has happened, papa?" asked a young voice
in the darkness, tremulous with excitement.

"My dear child, there has been an accident in the street, and this
young man has been wounded, or killed--"

"Killed! A dead man in the carriage!" cried the young girl in some
terror, and shrinking away into the corner.

"You should really control your nerves, Faustina," replied her
father in austere tones. "If the young man is dead, it is the will
of Heaven. If he is alive we shall soon find it out. Meanwhile I
must beg you to be calm--to be calm, do you understand?"

Donna Faustina Montevarchi made no answer to this parental
injunction, but withdrew as far as she could into the corner of
the back seat, while her father supported the inanimate body of
the Zouave as the carriage swung over the uneven pavement. In a
few minutes they rolled beneath a deep arch and stopped at the
foot of a broad marble staircase.

"Bring him upstairs carefully, and send for a surgeon," said the
prince to the men who came forward. Then he offered his arm to his
daughter to ascend the steps, as though nothing had happened, and
without bestowing another look on the injured soldier.