"

"Do you, then, believe me capable of ever becoming a murderer?"

"Since I have mentioned the subject at all, Monsieur Orso, you must
clearly see that I do not suspect you, and if I have spoken to you at
all," she added, dropping her eyes, "it is because I have realized that
surrounded, it may be, by barbarous prejudices on your return home, you
will be glad to know that there is somebody who esteems you for having
the courage to resist them. Come!" said she, rising to her feet, "don't
let us talk again of such horrid things, they make my head ache, and
besides it's very late. You are not angry with me, are you? Let us say
good-night in the English fashion," and she held out her hand.

Orso pressed it, looking grave and deeply moved.

"Mademoiselle," he said, "do you know that there are moments when the
instincts of my country wake up within me. Sometimes, when I think of
my poor father, horrible thoughts assail me. Thanks to you, I am rid of
them forever. Thank you! thank you!"

He would have continued, but Miss Lydia dropped a teaspoon, and the
noise woke up the colonel.

"Della Rebbia, we'll start at five o'clock to-morrow morning. Be
punctual!"

"Yes, colonel."

CHAPTER V

The next day, a short time before the sportsmen came back, Miss Nevil,
returning with her maid from a walk along the seashore, was just about
to enter the inn, when she noticed a young woman, dressed in black,
riding into the town on a small but strong horse. She was followed by a
sort of peasant, also on horseback, who wore a brown cloth jacket cut at
the elbows. A gourd was slung over his shoulder and a pistol was hanging
at his belt, his hand grasped a gun, the butt of which rested in a
leathern pocket fastened to his saddle-bow--in short, he wore the
complete costume of a brigand in a melodrama, or of the middle-class
Corsican on his travels. Miss Nevil's attention was first attracted by
the woman's remarkable beauty. She seemed about twenty years of age; she
was tall and pale, with dark blue eyes, red lips, and teeth like enamel.
In her expression pride, anxiety, and sadness were all legible. On her
head she wore a black silk veil called a _mezzaro_, which the Genoese
introduced into Corsica, and which is so becoming to women. Long braids
of chestnut hair formed a sort of turban round her head. Her dress was
neat, but simple in the extreme.

Miss Nevil had plenty of time to observe her, for the lady in the
_mezzaro_ had hal