llenge it, as silly criminals always do when they are
exposed, but answering quite in the tone of innocence, and so throwing
the burden by an appearance of mutual consent on some unnamed third
person.

"Certainly; let us go to Countess Anna of Lenkenstein, if you think fit.
I have to rely on your judgement. I quite abjure my own. If I have to
plead for anything, I am going before a woman, remember."

"I do not forget it," said Merthyr.

"The expedition to Brescia may be unfortunate," she resumed hurriedly;
"I wish it had not been undertaken. At any rate, it rescues Count
Ammiani from an expedition to Rome, and his slavish devotion to that
priest-hating man whom he calls, or called, his Chief. At Brescia he is
not outraging the head of our religion. That is a gain."

"A gain for him in the next world?" said Merthyr. "I believe that
Countess Anna of Lenkenstein is also a fervent Catholic; is she not?"

"I trust so."

"On behalf of her peace of mind, I trust so, too. In that case, she also
must be a sound sleeper."

"We shall have to awaken her. What excuse--what am I to say to her?"

"I beg you to wait for the occasion, Countess d'Isorella. The words will
come."

Violetta bit her lip. She had consented to this extraordinary step in
an amazement. As she contemplated it now, it seemed worse than a partial
confession and an appeal to his generosity. She broke out in pity for
her horses, in dread of her coachman, declaring that it was impossible
for her to give him the order to drive her anywhere but home.

"With your permission, countess, I will undertake to give him the
order," said Merthyr.

"But have you no compassion, signor Powys? and you are an Englishman! I
thought that Englishmen were excessively compassionate with horses."

"They have been known to kill them in the service of their friends,
nevertheless."

"Well!"--Violetta had recourse to the expression of her shoulders--"and
I am really to see Countess Anna?"

"In my presence."

"Oh! that cannot be. Pardon me; it is impossible. She will decline the
scene. I say it with the utmost sincerity: I know that she will refuse."

"Then, countess," Merthyr's face grew hard, "if I am not to be in your
company to prompt you, allow me to instruct you beforehand."

Violetta looked at him eagerly, as one looks for tidings, with an
involuntary beseeching quiver of the strained eyelids.

"No irony!" she said, fearing horribly that he was about to throw off
t