CHAPTER XI.

FACE TO FACE.

The time had now come when Count Nobili must finally make up his mind.
He had told Fra Pacifico that his determination was unaltered. He had
told him that his dignity as a man, his honor as a gentleman, demanded
that he should free himself from the net-work of intrigues in which
the marchesa had entangled him. Of all earthly things, compliancy with
her desires most revolted him. Rather than live any longer the victim
either of her malice or her ambition, he had brought himself to
believe that it was his duty to renounce Enrica. Until Fra Pacifico
had entered that room within which he was again pacing up and down
with hasty strides, no doubt whatever had arisen in his mind as to
what it was incumbent upon him to do: to give Enrica the protection
of his name by marriage, then to separate. Whether to separate in
the manner pointed out by Guglielmi he had not decided. An innate
repulsion, now increased by suspicion, made him distrust any act
pressed upon him by that man, especially when urged in concert with
the marchesa.

Every hour passed at Corellia was torture to him. Should he go at
once, or should he remain until the morning?--sign the deed?--complete
the sacrifice? Already what he had so loudly insisted on presented
itself now to him in the light of a sacrifice. Enrica loved him
still--he believed Fra Pacifico. The throbbing of his heart as he
thought of her told him that he returned that love. She was there near
him under the same roof. Could he leave her? Yes, he must leave her!
He would trust himself no longer in the hands of the marchesa or of
her agent. Instinct told him some subtle scheme lay under the urgings
of Guglielmi--the dangerous civilities of the marchesa. He would
go. The legal separation might be completed elsewhere. Why only at
Corellia? Why must those formalities insisted on by Guglielmi be
respected? What did they mean? Of the real drift of the delay Nobili
was utterly ignorant. Had he asked Fra Pacifico, he would have told
him the truth, but he had not done so.

To meet Enrica in the morning; to meet her again in the presence of
her detested aunt; to meet her only to sign a deed separating them
forever under the mockery of mutual consent, was agony. Why should he
endure it?

Nobili, wrought up to a pitch of excitement that almost robbed him of
reason, dares not trust himself to think. He seizes his hat, which lay
upon the table, and rushes out into the night