sked
himself with dismay if, in helping Enrica, he had not committed a
mortal sin? Hitherto he had defended Count Nobili; now his whole soul
rose against him. "Would Nobili say nothing in justification?"
Spite of himself, Fra Pacifico's fists clinched themselves under his
vestments.

But Nobili was about to speak. He gave a hurried glance round the
circle--upon Enrica kneeling at the altar; with the air of a man who
forces himself to do a hateful penance, he broke silence.

"In the presence of the blessed sacrament"--his voice was thick and
hoarse--"I declare that, after the explanations given, I withdraw my
accusations. I hold that lady, now Countess Nobili"--and he pointed to
the motionless mass of white drapery kneeling beside him--"I hold
that lady innocent in thought and life. But I include her in the just
indignation with which I regard this house and its mistress, whose
agent she has made herself to deceive me."

Count Nobili's kindling eye rested on the marchesa. She, in her turn,
shot a furious glance at the cavaliere.

"'Explanations given!' Then Trenta had dared to exonerate Enrica! It
was degrading!"

"This reparation made," continued Count Nobili--"my name and hand
given to her by the Church--honor is satisfied: I will never live with
her!"

Was there no mercy in the man as he pronounced these last words? No
appeal? No mercy? Or had the marchesa driven him to bay?

The marchesa!--Nobili's last words had shattered the whole fabric of
her ambition! Never for a moment had the marchesa doubted that, the
marriage once over, Nobili would have seriously refused the splendid
position she offered him. Look at her!--She cannot conceal her
consternation.

"I invite you, therefore, Maestro Guglielmi"--the studied calmness of
Nobili's manner belied the agitation of his voice and aspect--"you,
Maestro Guglielmi, who have been called here expressly to insult me--I
invite you to advise the Marchesa Guinigi to accept what I am willing
to offer."

"To insult you, Count Nobili?" exclaimed Guglielmi, looking round.
(Guglielmi had turned aside to write a few hurried words upon his
tablets, torn out the leaf, and slipped it into the marchesa's hand.
So rapidly was this done, no one had perceived it.) "To insult you?
Surely not to insult you! Allow me to explain."

"Silence!" thundered Fra Pacifico standing before the altar. "In the
name of God, silence! Let those who desire to wrangle choose a fitter
place. There