rse you all say that I am infatuated with the boy, and
that I helped him to do a reckless thing, simply because I was blinded
by my fondness. But I maintain, and shall ever hold, that Nino did
right in this matter, and I am telling my story merely in order that
honest men may judge.

He sat by the window, and the sun poured through the panes upon his
curling hair, his travelling dress, and his dusty boots. The woman of
the house brought in some wine and water; but he only sipped the
water, and would not touch the wine.

"You are a dear, kind father to me," he said, putting out his hand
from where he sat, "and before we talk I must tell you how much I
thank you." Simple words, as they look on paper; but another man could
not have said so much in an hour as his voice and look told me.

CHAPTER XVI

"Nino mio," I began, "I saw the contessina last night. She is in a
very dramatic and desperate situation. But she greets you, and looks
to you to save her from her troubles." Nino's face was calm, but his
voice trembled a little as he answered:

"Tell me quickly, please, what the troubles are."

"Softly--I will tell you all about it. You must know that your friend
Benoni is a traitor to you, and is here. Do not look astonished. He
has made up his mind to marry the contessina, and she says she will
die rather than take him, which is quite right of her." At the latter
piece of news Nino sprang from his chair.

"You do not seriously mean that her father is trying to make her marry
Benoni?" he cried.

"It is infamous, my dear boy; but it is true."

"Infamous! I should think you could find a stronger word. How did you
learn this?" I detailed the circumstances of our meeting on the
previous night. While I talked Nino listened with intense interest,
and his face changed its look from anger to pity, and from pity to
horror. When I had finished, he was silent.

"You can see for yourself," I said, "that the case is urgent."

"I will take her away," said Nino, at last. "It will be very
unpleasant for the count. He would have been wiser to allow her to
have her own way."

"Do nothing rash, Nino mio. Consider a little what the consequences
would be if you were caught in the act of violently carrying off the
daughter of a man as powerful as Von Lira."

"Bah! You talk of his power as though we lived under the Colonnesi and
the Orsini, instead of under a free monarchy. If I am once married to
her, what have I to fear?