Gianluca said nothing to this, and again there was a short silence. Just
as Taquisara came to the table in his walk, Gianluca spoke again.

"Stop a moment," he said. "Look at me, Taquisara. If you were in my
place, what would you do?"

Their eyes met, and Gianluca saw the quick effort of the other's
features, controlling themselves, as though he had been struck unawares.

"I?" exclaimed Taquisara, taken entirely off his guard. "If I were in
your place? Why--" he recovered himself--"I should get married again, as
soon as possible, of course. What else should any one do?"

But the bold eyes for once looked down a little, their steadiness
broken.

"You would do nothing of the sort," said Gianluca.

"What do you mean?" Again Taquisara started almost imperceptibly, and
his brows contracted as he looked up sharply.

"If you were in my place," said Gianluca, "you would cut your throat
rather than ruin the life of the woman you loved, by tying your misery
to her for life, a load for her to carry."

"Do not say such things!" exclaimed the Sicilian, turning suddenly from
the table and resuming his walk. "You are mad!"

"No--not mad. But not cowardly either. There is not much left of me, but
what there is shall not be afraid. I am not truly married to her. I will
not be. I will not die with that on my soul."

"Gianluca--for God's sake do not say such things!" Taquisara turned upon
him, staring.

He sat in his deep chair, his fair angel head thrown back, the dark blue
eyes bright, brave, and daring--all the rest, dead.

"I say them, and I mean them," he answered. "I love her very much. I
love her enough for that. I love her more than you do."

"Than I?" Taquisara's voice almost broke, as the blow struck him, but
there was no fear in his eyes either. He drew a breath then, and spoke
strong words. "Now may Christ forget me in the hour of death, if I have
not been true to you!"

"And me and mine if I blast your life and hers," came back the
unflinching answer.

A deep silence fell upon them both. At last Gianluca spoke again, and
his voice sank to another tone.

"She loves you, too," he said.

"Loves me?" cried Taquisara, his brows suddenly close bent. "Oh no!
Unsay that, or--no--Gianluca--how dare you even dream the right to say
that of your wife?"

It was beyond his strength to bear.

"She is not my wife," said Gianluca. "You have told me so--she is not my
wife. She has done what no other living woman could