He had not seen her since Saturday. Three whole days of anguishing
longing. And now in half an hour at least she would be in his arms. The
journey through the beautiful scenery from Lucerne had been got through at
night--all day from Milan a feverish excitement had dominated him, and
prevented his taking any interest in outward surroundings. A magnetic
attraction seemed drawing him on--on--to the centre of light and joy--his
lady's presence.

Dmitry and an Italian servant awaited his arrival; not an instant's delay
for luggage called a halt. Tompson and the Italian were left for that, and
Paul departed with his trusty guide.

It was about seven o'clock, the opalescent lights were beginning to show
in the sky, and their reflection in the water, as he stooped his tall head
to enter the covered gondola. It was all too beautiful and wonderful to
take in at once, and then he only wanted wings the sooner to arrive, not
eyes to see the passing objects. Afterwards the strange soft cry of the
gondoliers and the sights appealed to him; but on this first evening every
throb of his being was centred upon the one moment when he should hold his
beloved one to his heart.

He could hardly contain his impatience, and walk sedately beside Dmitry
when they ascended the great stone staircase--he felt like bounding up
three steps at a time. Dmitry had been respectfully silent. Madame was
well--that was all he would say. He opened the great double door with a
latch-key, and Paul found himself in vast hall almost unfurnished but for
some tapestry on the walls, and a huge gilt marriage-chest, and a couple
of chairs. It was ill lit, and there was something of decay and gloom in
its aspect.