Then he is betrayed by the woman who has never been unintelligible to me.  We were in Turin surrounded by intrigues, and there I thanked her so much for leaving me the days with my husband by Lake Orta that I did not seek to open his eyes to her.  We came to Milan, and here I have been thanking her for the happy days in Turin.  Carlo is no longer to blame if he will not listen to me.  I have helped to teach him that I am no better than any of these Italian women whom he despises.  I spoke to him as his wife should do, at last.  He feigned to think me jealous, and I too remember the words of the reproach, as if they had a meaning.  Ah, my friend!  I would say of nothing that it is impossible, except this task of recovering lost ground with one who is young.  Experience of trouble has made me older than he.  When he accused me of jealousy, I could mention Countess d’Isorella’s name no more.  I confess to that.  Yet I knew my husband feigned.  I knew that he could not conceive the idea of jealousy existing in me, as little as I could imagine unfaithfulness in him.  But my lips would not take her name!  Wretched cowardice cannot go farther.  I spoke of Rome.  As often as I spoke, that name was enough to shake me off:  he had but to utter it, and I became dumb.  He did it to obtain peace; for no other cause.  So, by degrees, I have learnt the fatal truth.  He has trusted her, for she is very skilful; distrusting her, for she is treacherous.  He has, therefore, believed excessively in his ability to make use of her, and to counteract her baseness.  I saw his error from the first; and I went on dreaming and singing; and now this night has come!”

Vittoria shadowed her eyes.

“I will go to him at once,” said Merthyr.

“Yes; I am relieved.  Go, dear friend,” she sobbed; “you have given me tears, as I hoped.  You will not turn him; had it been possible, could I have kept you from him so long?  I know that you will not turn him from his purpose, for I know what a weight it is that presses him forward in that path.  Do not imagine our love to be broken.  He will convince you that it is not.  He has the nature of an angel.  He permitted me to speak before these men to-night—­feeble thing that I am!  It was a last effort.  I might as well have tried to push a rock.”

She rose at a noise of voices in the hall below.

“They are going, Merthyr.  See him now.  There may be help in heaven; if one could think it!  If help were given to this country—­if help were only visible!  The want of it makes us all without faith.”

“Hush! you may hear good news from Carlo Alberto in a few hours,” said Merthyr.

“Ask Laura; she has witnessed how he can be shattered,” Vittoria replied bitterly.

Merthyr pressed her fingers.  He was met by Carlo on the stairs.

“Quick!” Carlo said; “I have scarce a minute to spare.  I have my adieux to make, and the tears have set in already.  First, a request:  you will promise to remain beside my wife; she will want more than her own strength.”