grudgingly let go.

"One night Countess Branciani put the Austrians on her husband's track.
He knew that she was true to her country, and had no fear of her,
whether she touched the Black-yellow gold or not. But he did not confide
any, of his projects to her. And his reason was, that as she went to the
Governor's, she might accidentally, by a word or a sign, show that
she was an accomplice in the conspiracy. He wished to save her from a
suspicion. Brave Branciani!"

Emilia had a little shudder of excitement.

"Only," she added, "why will men always think women are so weak? The
Count worked with conspirators who were not dreaming they would do
anything, but were plotting to do it. The Countess belonged to the other
party--men who never thought they were strong enough to see their ideas
acting--I mean, not bold enough to take their chance. As if we die more
than one death, and the blood we spill for Italy is ever wasted! That
night the Austrian spy followed the Count to the meeting-house of the
conspirators. It was thought quite natural that the Count should go
there. But the spy, not having the password, crouched outside, and heard
from two that came out muttering, the next appointment for a meeting.
This was told to Countess Branciani, and in the meantime she heard
from the Austrian Governor that her husband had given in names of the
conspirators. She determined at once. 'Now may Christ and the Virgin
help me!'"

Emilia struck her knees, while tears started through her shut eyelids.
The exclamation must have been caught from her father, who liked not the
priests of his native land well enough to interfere between his English
wife and their child in such a matter as religious training.

"What happened?" said Wilfrid, vainly seeking for personal application
in this narrative.

"Listen!--Ah!" she fought with her tears, and said, as they rolled down
her face: "For a miserable thing one can not help, I find I must cry.
This is what she did. She told him she knew of the conspiracy, and asked
permission to join it, swearing that she was true to Italy. He said he
believed her.--Oh, heaven!--And for some time she had to beg and beg;
but to spare her he would not let her join. I cannot tell why--he gave
her the password for the neat meeting, and said that an old gold coin
must be shown. She must have coaxed it, though he was a strong man, who
could resist women. I suppose he felt that he had been unkind.--Were I
Queen of