“Now I can meet Guglielmi!” The marchesa rapidly crosses the sala to the door of her own room, which she leaves ajar.

CHAPTER IX.

HUSBAND VERSUS WIFE.

The room to which Angelo conducts Count Nobili is on the ground-floor, in the same wing as the chapel.  It is reached by the same corridor, which traverses all that side of the house.  Into this corridor many other doors open.  Pipa had chosen it because it was the best room in the house.  From the high ceiling, painted in gay frescoes, hangs a large chandelier; the bed is covered with red damask curtains.  Such furniture as was available had been carried thither by Pipa and Adamo.  One large window, reaching to the ground, looks westward over the low wall.

The sun is setting.  The mighty range of mountains are laced with gold; light, fleecy cloudlets float across the sky.  Behind rise banks of deepest saffron.  These shift and move at first in chaos; then they take the form as of a fiery city.  There are domes and towers and pinnacles as of living flame, that burn and glisten.  Another moment, and the sun has sunk to rest.  The phantom city fades; the ruddy background melts into the gray mountain-side.  Dim ghost-like streaks linger about the double summits of La Pagna.  They vanish.  Nothing then remains but masses of leaden clouds soon to darken into night.

On entering the room, Count Nobili takes a long breath, gazes for a moment on the mountains that rise before him, then turns toward the door, awaiting the arrival of Guglielmi.  His restless eye, his shifting color, betray his agitation.  The ordeal is not yet over; he must hear what this man has to say.

Maestro Guglielmi enters with a quick, brisk step and easy, confident bearing; indeed, he is in the highest spirits.  He had trembled lest Nobili should have insisted upon leaving Corellia immediately after the ceremony when it was still broad daylight.  Several unforeseen circumstances had prevented this—­Enrica’s fainting-fit; the discussion that ensued upon it between Nobili and the old chamberlain—­all this had created delay, and afforded him an appropriate opportunity of requesting a private interview.  Besides, the cunning lawyer had noted that, during that discussion in the chapel with Cavaliere Trenta, Nobili had evinced indications of other passions besides anger—­indications of a certain tenderness in the midst of his vehement sense of the wrong done him by the marchesa.  But, what was of far more consequence to Guglielmi was, that all this had the effect of stopping Nobili’s immediate departure.  That Guglielmi had prevailed upon Nobili to enter the room prepared for him—­that he had in so doing domiciled himself voluntarily under the same roof as his wife—­was an immense point gained.