Not a sound broke the silence—­nothing save the striking of the clock at Corellia, bringing with it visions of the dark old church—­the kneeling women—­and the peace of God within.  Even Argo and his friends—­Juno and Tuzzi, and the bull-dog—­were mute.

About twelve o’clock the marchesa arrived from Lucca.  In her company came the Cavaliere Trenta and Maestro Guglielmi.  Fra Pacifico was in waiting.  He received them with grave courtesy.  Adamo, arrayed by Pipa in his Sunday clothes, with a flower behind his ear, and Silvestro, stood uncovered at the entrance.  Once, and once only, Silvestro abstained from addressing his mistress with his usual question about her health.

Maestro Guglielmi was formally presented to Fra Pacifico by the punctilious cavaliere, now restored to his usual health and spirits.  The cavaliere had arrayed himself in his official uniform—­dark-purple velvet embroidered with gold.  Not having worn the uniform, however, for more than twenty years, the coat was much too small for him.  In his hand he carried a white staff of office.  This served him as a stick.  Coming up from Lucca, the cavaliere had reflected that on him solely must rest the care of imparting some show of dignity to the ceremony about to take place.  He resolved that he would be equal to the occasion, whatever might occur.

There was a strange hush upon each one of the little group met in the sala.  Each was busy with his own thoughts.  The marriage about to take place was to the marchesa the resurrection of the Guinigi name.  To Fra Pacifico it was the possible rescue of Enrica from a life of suffering, perhaps an early death.  To Guglielmi it was the triumph of the keen lawyer, who had tracked and pursued his prey until that prey had yielded.  To the cavaliere it was simply an act of justice which Count Nobili owed to Enrica, after the explanations he (Trenta) had given to him through his lawyer, respecting Count Marescotti—­such an act of justice as the paternal government of his master the Duke of Lucca would have forced, upon the strength of his absolute prerogative, irrespective of law.  The only person not outwardly affected was the marchesa.  The marchesa had said nothing since her arrival, but there was a haughty alacrity of step and movement, as she walked down the sala toward the door of her own apartment, that spoke more than words.

No sooner had the sound of her closing door died away in the echoes of the sala than Trenta, with forward bows both to Fra Pacifico and the lawyer, requested permission to leave them, in order to visit Enrica.  Guglielmi and Fra Pacifico were now alone.  Guglielmi gave a cautious glance round, then walked up to the table, and poured out a tumbler of wine, which he swallowed slowly.  As he did so, he was engaged in closely scrutinizing Fra Pacifico, who, full of anxiety as to what was about to happen, stood lost in thought.