nnounce
the expiration of her hour of grace.

"Ah, Luigi!" she said. "Signorina, only wait, and see how Luigi can
serve two," he whispered, writhing under the reproachfulness of her
eyes. At the carriage-door she asked Pericles whither he was taking her.
"Not to Turin, not to London, Sandra Belloni!" he replied; "not to a
place where you are wet all night long, to wheeze for ever after it. Go
in." She entered the carriage quickly, to escape from staring officers,
whose laughter rang in her ears and humbled her bitterly; she felt
herself bringing dishonour on her lover. The carriage continued in the
track of the Austrians. Pericles was audibly careful to avoid the border
regiments. He showered cigars as he passed; now and then he exhibited
a paper; and on one occasion he brought a General officer to the
carriage-door, opened it and pointed in. A white-helmeted dragoon rode
on each side of the carriage for the remainder of the day. The delight
of the supposition that these Austrians were retreating before the
invincible arms of King Carlo Alberto kept her cheerful; but she heard
no guns in the rear. A blocking of artillery and waggons compelled a
halt, and then Pericles came and faced her. He looked profoundly ashamed
of himself, ready as he was for an animated defence of his proceedings.

"Where are you taking me, sir?" she said in English.

"Sandra, will you be a good child? It is anywhere you please, if you
will promise--"

"I will promise nothing."

"Zen, I lock you up in Verona."

"In Verona!"

"Sandra, will you promise to me?"

"I will promise nothing."

"Zen I lock you up in Verona. It is settled. No more of it. I come to
say, we shall not reach a village. I am sorry. We have soldiers for
a guard. You draw out a board and lodge in your carriage as in a bed.
Biscuits, potted meats, prunes, bon-bona, chocolate, wine--you shall
find all at your right hand and your left. I am desolate in offending
you. Sandra, if you will promise--"

"I will promise--this is what I will promise," said Vittoria.

Pericles thrust his ear forward, and withdrew it as if it had been
slapped.

She promised to run from him at the first opportunity, to despise him
ever after, and never to sing again in his hearing. With the darkness
Luigi appeared to light her lamp; he mouthed perpetually, "To-morrow,
to-morrow." The watch-fires of Austrians encamped in the fields
encircled her; and moving up and down, the cigar of Antonio-Peri