went up the Guinigi Tower with the party," he ventured to say.
"There were four of us. The Cavaliere Trenta told me in the street
just before that it was all right, and that the lady had agreed to
marry Count Marescotti. There can be no secret about it now that every
one knows it. Count Marescotti raved so about the Signorina Enrica,
that he nearly jumped over the parapet."

"Better for her if you had helped him over," muttered Orazio, with a
sarcastic stare. "The sonnet would not then have been written."

But Baldassare, conscious that he had intelligence that would make
him welcome, stood his ground. "You do not seem to know what has
happened," he continued.

"More news!" cried Malatesta. "Gracious heavens! Wave after wave it
comes!--a mighty sea. I hear the distant roar--it dashes high!--It
breaks!--Speak, oh, speak, Adonis!"

"The Marchesa Guinigi has left Lucca suddenly."

"Who cares? Do you, Pietrino?" asked Franchi of Orsetti, with a
contemptuous glance at Baldassare.

"Let him speak," cried Malatesta; "Baldassare is an oracle."

"The marchesa left Lucca suddenly," persisted Baldassare, not daring
to notice Orsetti's insolence. "She took her niece with her."

"Have it cried about the streets," interrupted Orazio, opening his
eyes.

"Yesterday morning an express came down for Cavaliere Trenta. The
ancient tower of Corellia has been entirely burnt. The marchesa was
rescued."

"And the niece--is the niece gone to glory on the funeral-pyre?"

"No," answered Baldassare, helplessly, settling his stupid eyes on
Orazio, whose thrusts he could not parry. "She was saved by Count
Nobili, who was accidentally shooting on the mountains near."

"Oh, bah!" cried Malatesta, with a knowing grin; "I never believe in
accidents. There is a ruling power. That power is love--love--love."

"The cavaliere is not yet returned."

"This is a strange story," said Orsetti, gravely. "Nobili too, and
Marescotti. She must be a lively damsel. What will Nera Boccarini say
to her truant knight, who rescues maidens _accidentally_ on distant
mountains? What had Nobili to do in the Garfagnana?"

"Ask him," lisped Orazio; "it will save more talking. I wish Nobili
joy of his bargain," he added, turning to Malatesta.

"I wonder that he cares to take up with Marescotti's leavings."

"Here's Ruspoli, crossing the square. Perhaps he can throw some light
on this strange story," said Orsetti.

Prince Ruspoli, still at Lucca, is on a vi