who is an Austrian officer
is quartered at Verona, and the Signor Antonio Pericles said that the
Englishman should not meet you yet, if he could help it."

Victoria stood brooding. "Who can it be,--who is an Englishman, and an
Austrian officer, and knows me?"

"Signorina, I don't know names. Behold, that Beppo is approaching like
the snow! What I entreat is, that the signorina will wait a little for
the English party, if they come, so that I may have something to tell
my patron. To invent upon nothing is most unpleasant, and the Signor
Antonio can soon perceive whether one swims with corks. Signorina, I
can dance on one rope--I am a man. I am not a midge--I cannot dance upon
nothing."

The days of Vittoria's youth had been passed in England. It was not
unknown to her that old English friends were on the way to Italy;
the recollection of a quiet and a buried time put a veil across her
features. She was perplexed by the mention of the Austrian officer by
Luigi, as one may be who divines the truth too surely, but will not
accept it for its loathsomeness. There were Englishmen in the army of
Austria. Could one of them be this one whom she had cared for when she
was a girl? It seemed hatefully cruel to him to believe it. She spoke
to Agostino, begging him to remain with her on the height awhile to see
whether the Signor Antonio-Pericles was right; to see whether Luigi was
a truth-teller; to see whether these English persons were really coming.
"Because," she said, "if they do come, it will at once dissolve any
suspicions you may have of this Luigi. And I always long so much to
know if the Signor Antonio is correct. I have never yet known him to be
wrong."

"And you want to see these English," said Agostino. He frowned.

"Only to hear them. They shall not recognize me. I have now another
name; and I am changed. My hat is enough to hide me. Let me hear them
talk a little. You and the Signor Carlo will stay with me, and when they
come, if they do come, I will remain no longer than just sufficient to
make sure. I would refuse to know any of them before the night of the
fifteenth; I want my strength too much. I shall have to hear a misery
from them; I know it, I feel it; it turns my blood. But let me hear
their voices! England is half my country, though I am so willing to
forget her and give all my life to Italy. Stay with me, dear friend, my
best father! humour me, for you know that I am always charming when I am
humoured.