as injured you. You desire his ruin; or, perhaps,
some deep intrigue awaits myself. It matters not; I will not aid you."

"How you misjudge me, Lola!" said he, sorrowfully. "I meant by this act
to have repaired many an unconscious wrong, and to have vindicated
an affection which the troubled years of life have never been able to
efface. Amidst all the cares of great events, when moments are precious
as days of ordinary existence, I have come to offer you this last
reparation. Think well ere you reject it."

"Not for an instant!" cried she, passionately. "Make weaker minds the
tools of your subtle artifices, and leave _me_ to follow my own career."

"I will obey you," said D'Esmonde, with an air of deep humility. "I ask
but one favor. As this meeting is unknown to all, never speak of it to
Midchekoff. My name need never pass your lips, nor shall my presence
again offend you. Adieu forever!"

Whether some passing pang of remorse shot through her heart, or that a
sudden sense of dread came across her, Lola stood unable to reply; and
it was only as he moved away towards the door that she found strength to
say, "Goodbye."

"Let me touch that hand for the last time, Lola," said he, advancing
towards her.

"No, no,--leave me!" cried she, with a sick shudder, and as though his
very approach suggested peril.

D'Esmonde bowed submissively, and passed out. With slow and measured
steps he traversed the alleys of the garden; but once outside the walls,
he hastened his pace. Descending the mountain with rapid strides, he
gained the road where the carriage waited in less than half an hour.

"To the city!" said he; and, throwing himself back in his seat, drew
down the blinds, while, with folded arms and closed eyes, he tasted of
what habit enabled him at any moment to command,--a refreshing sleep.

CHAPTER XXVII. VALEGGIO.

The little village of Valeggio, near the Lago di Guarda, was fixed upon
as the spot where the commissaries of both armies should meet to arrange
on the exchange of prisoners. It stood at about an equal distance from
their headquarters, and, although a poor and insignificant hamlet, was
conveniently situated for the purpose in hand. Soon after daybreak,
the stirring sounds of marching troops awoke the inhabitants, and a
half-squadron of Piedmontese lancers were seen to ride up the narrow
street, and, dismounting, to picket their horses in the little Piazza
of the market. Shortly after these came an e