a garb, Vittoria leaned back passively until the carriage
stopped at a village inn, where Giacinta made speedy arrangements to
satisfy as far as possible her mistress's queer predilection for bathing
her whole person daily in cold water. The household service of the inn
recovered from the effort to assist her sufficiently to produce hot
coffee and sweet bread, and new green-streaked stracchino, the cheese of
the district, which was the morning meal of the fugitives. Giacinta, who
had never been so thirsty in her life, became intemperately refreshed,
and was seized by the fatal desire to do something: to do what she could
not tell; but chancing to see that her mistress had silken slippers on
her feet, she protested loudly that stouter foot-gear should be obtained
for her, and ran out to circulate inquiries concerning a shoemaker who
might have a pair of country overshoes for sale. She returned to say
that the coachman and his comrade, the German chasseur, were drinking
and watering their horses, and were not going to start until after a
rest of two hours, and that she proposed to walk to a small Bergamasc
town within a couple of miles of the village, where the shoes could be
obtained, and perhaps a stuff to replace the silken dress. Receiving
consent, Giacinta whispered, 'A man outside wishes to speak to you,
signorina. Don't be frightened. He pounced on me at the end of the
village, and had as little breath to speak as a boy in love. He was
behind us all last night on the carriage. He mentioned you by name. He
is quite commonly dressed, but he's a gallant gentleman, and exactly
like our Signor Carlo. My dearest lady, he'll be company for you while I
am absent. May I beckon him to come into the room?'

Vittoria supposed at once that this was a smoothing of the way for
the entrance of her lover and her joy. She stood up, letting all her
strength go that he might the more justly take her and cherish her. But
it was not Carlo who entered. So dead fell her broken hope that her face
was repellent with the effort she made to support herself. He said, 'I
address the Signorina Vittoria. I am a relative of Countess Ammiani. My
name is Angelo Guidascarpi. Last night I was evading the sbirri in this
disguise by the private door of La Scala, from which I expected Carlo to
come forth. I saw him seized in mistake for me. I jumped up on the
empty box-seat behind your carriage. Before we entered the village I let
myself down. If I am see