CHAPTER XIV

  AT THE MAESTRO'S DOOR

  The house of the Maestro Rocco Ricci turned off the Borgo della Stella.Carlo Ammiani conducted Vittoria to the maestro's door. They conversedvery little on the way.

  'You are a good swordsman?' she asked him abruptly.

  'I have as much skill as belongs to a perfect intimacy with the weapon,'he answered.

  'Your father was a soldier, Signor Carlo.'

  'He was a General officer in what he believed to be the army of Italy.We used to fence together every day for two hours.'

  'I love the fathers who do that,' said Vittoria.

  After such speaking Ammiani was not capable of the attempt to preachpeace and safety to her. He postponed it to the next minute and thenext.

  Vittoria's spirit was in one of those angry knots which are half of theintellect, half of the will, and are much under the domination of one orother of the passions in the ascendant. She was resolved to go forward;she felt justified in going forward; but the divine afflatus ofenthusiasm buoyed her no longer, and she required the support of allthat accuracy of insight and that senseless stubbornness which theremight be in her nature. The feeling that it was she to whom it was givento lift the torch and plant the standard of Italy, had swept her asthrough the strings of a harp. Laura, and the horrible little bronzebutterfly, and the 'Sei sospetta,' now made her duty seem dry andmiserably fleshless, imaging itself to her as if a skeleton had beentold to arise and walk:--say, the thing obeys, and fills a ghastlydistension of men's eyelids for a space, and again lies down, and menget their breath: but who is the rosier for it? where is the glory ofit? what is the good? This Milan, and Verona, Padua, Vicenza, Brescia,Venice, Florence, the whole Venetian, Tuscan, and Lombardic lands, downto far Sicily, and that Rome which always lay under the crown of a deadsunset in her idea--they too might rise; but she thought of them asskeletons likewise. Even the shadowy vision of Italy Free had nobloom on it, and stood fronting the blown trumpets of resurrectionLazarus-like.

  At these moments young hearts, though full of sap and fire, cannot docommon nursing labour for the little suckling sentiments and hopes,the dreams, the languors and the energies hanging about them fornourishment. Vittoria's horizon was within five feet of her. She sawneither splendid earth nor ancient heaven; nothing save a breach tobe stepped over in defiance of foes and (what was harder to brave) offriends. Some wayward activity of old associations set her humming aquaint English tune, by which she was brought to her consciousness.

  'Dear friend,' she said, becoming aware that there might be a moretroubled depth in Ammiani's absence of speech than in her own.

  'Yes?' said he, quickly, as for a sentence to follow. None came, and hecontinued, 'The Signora Laura is also your friend.'

  She rejoined coldly, 'I am not thinking of her.'

  Vittoria had tried to utter what might be a word of comfort for him, andshe found she had not a thought or an emotion. Here she differed fromLaura, who, if the mood to heal a favourite's little sore at any seasoncame upon her, would shower out lively tendernesses and all cajoleriespossible to the tongue of woman. Yet the irritation of action narrowedLaura more than it did Vittoria; fevered her and distracted hersympathies. Being herself a plaything at the time, she could easily playa part for others. Vittoria had not grown, probably never would grow, tobe so plastic off the stage. She was stringing her hand to strike a blowas men strike, and women when they do that cannot be quite feminine.

  'How dull the streets are,' she remarked.

  'They are, just now,' said Ammiani, thinking of them on the night tocome convulsed with strife, and of her, tossed perhaps like a weed alongthe torrent of bloody deluge waters. Her step was so firm, her face soassured, that he could not fancy she realized any prospect of the sort,and it filled him with pity and a wretched quailing.

  If I speak now I shall be talking like a coward, he said to himself:and he was happily too prudent to talk to her in that strain. So he saidnothing of peace and safety. She was almost at liberty to believe thathe approved the wisdom of her resolution. At the maestro's door shethanked him for his escort, and begged for it further within an hour.'And do bring me some chocolate.' She struck her teeth together champingin a pretty hunger for it. 'I have no chocolate in my pocket, and Ihardly know myself.'

  'What will your Signor Antonio say?'

  Vittoria filliped her fingers. 'His rule is over, and he is my slave: Iam not his. I will not eat much; but some some I must have.'

  Ammiani laughed and promised to obtain it. 'That is, if there's any tobe had.'

  'Break open doors to get it for me,' she said, stamping with fun toinspirit him.

  No sooner was she standing alone, than her elbow was gently plucked aton the other side: a voice was sibilating: 'S-s-signorina.' She allowedherself to be drawn out of the light of the open doorway, having nosuspicion and no fear. 'Signorina, here is chocolate.' She beheld twohands in cup-shape, surcharged with packets of Turin chocolate.

  'Lugi, it is you?'

  The Motterone spy screwed his eyelids to an expression of the shrewdestsecresy.

  'Hist! signorina. Take some. You shall have all, but wait:--by-and-by.Aha! you look at my eyes as you did on the Monterone, because oneof them takes the shoulder-view; but, the truth is, my father was acontrabandist, and had his eye in his ear when the frontier guard senta bullet through his back, cotton-bags and cutleries, and all! I inheritfrom him, and have been wry-eyed ever since. How does that touch aman's honesty, signorina? Not at all. Don't even suspect that you won'tappreciate Luigi by-and-by. So, you won't ask me a word, signorina,but up you go to the maestro:--signorina, I swear I am your faithfulservant--up to the maestro, and down first. Come down first notlast:--first. Let the other one come down after you; and you come downfirst. Leave her behind, la Lazzeruola; and here, 'Luigi displayed ablack veil, the common head-dress of the Milanese women, and twisted hisfingers round and round on his forehead to personate the horns of theveil; 'take it, signorina; you know how to wear it. Luigi and the saintswatch over you.' Vittoria found herself left in possession of the veiland a packet of chocolate.

  'If I am watched over by the saints and Luigi,' she thought, and bit atthe chocolate.

  When the door had closed upon her, Luigi resumed his station nearit, warily casting his glances along the house-fronts, and moving hisspringy little legs like a heath-cock alert. They carried him sharp toan opposite corner of the street at a noise of some one running exposedto all eyes right down the middle of the road, straight to the house: inwhich foolish person he discerned Beppo, all of whose proceedingsLuigi observed and commented on from the safe obscurity under eaves andstarlight, while Beppo was in the light of the lamps. 'You thunderat the door, my Beppo. You are a fire-balloon: you are going to burnyourself up with what you carry. You think you can do something, becauseyou read books and frequent the talking theatres--fourteen syllablesto a word. Mother of heaven! will you never learn anything from naturalintelligence? There you are, in at the door. And now you will disturbthe signorina, and you will do nothing but make la Lazzeruola's earslively. Bounce! you are up the stairs. Bounce! you are on the landing.Thrum! you drum at the door, and they are singing; they don't hear you.And now you're meek as a mouse. That's it--if you don't hit the markwhen you go like a bullet, you 're stupid as lead. And they call you aclever fellow! Luigi's day is to come. When all have paid him all round,they will acknowledge Luigi's worth. You are honest enough, my Beppo;but you might as well be a countryman. You are the signorina's servant,but I know the turnings, said the rat to the cavaliere weazel.'

  In a few minutes Beppo stepped from the house, and flung himself withhis back against the lintel of the doorway.

  'That looks like determination to stop on guard,' said Luigi.

  He knew the exact feeling expressed by it, when one has come violentlyon an errand and has done no good.

  'A flea, my feathery lad, will set you flying again.'

  As it was imperative in Luigi's schemes th
at Beppo should be set flyingagain, he slipped away stealthily, and sped fast into the neighbouringCorso, where a light English closed carriage, drawn by a pair of theisland horses, moved at a slow pace. Two men were on the driver's seat,one of whom Luigi hailed to come down then he laid a strip of paper onhis knee, and after thumping on the side of his nose to get a notion ofEnglish-Italian, he wrote with a pencil, dancing upon one leg all thewhile for a balance:--

  'Come, Beppo, daughter sake, now, at once, immediate, Beppo, signor.'

  'That's to the very extremity how the little signora Inglese wouldwrite,' said Luigi; yet cogitating profoundly in a dubitative twinkleof a second as to whether it might not be the English habit to wind up ahasty missive with an expediting oath. He had heard the oath of emphasisin that island: but he decided to let it go as it stood. The man he hadsummoned was directed to take it straightway and deliver it to one whowould be found at the house-door of the Maestro Rocco Ricci.

  'Thus, like a drunken sentinel,' said Luigi, folding his arms, crossinghis legs, and leaning back. 'Forward, Matteo, my cherub.'

  'All goes right?' the coachman addressed Luigi.

  'As honey, as butter, as a mulberry leaf with a score of worms on it!The wine and the bread and the cream-cheeses are inside, my dainty one,are they? She must not starve, nor must I. Are our hampers fastened outside? Good. We shall be among the Germans in a day and a night. I've got the route, and I pronounce the name of the chateau veryperfectly--"Schloss Sonnenberg." Do that if you can.'

  The unpractised Italian coachman declined to attempt it. He and Luigicompared time by their watches. In three-quarters of an hour he was tobe within hail of the maestro's house. Thither Luigi quietly returned.

  Beppo's place there was vacant.

  'That's better than a draught of Asti,' said Luigi.

  The lighted windows of the maestro's house, and the piano strikingcorrective notes, assured him that the special rehearsal was still goingon; and as he might now calculate on two or three minutes to spare, hethrew back his coat-collar, lifted his head, and distended his chest,apparently to chime in with the singing, but simply to listen to it.For him, it was imperative that he should act the thing, in order toapprehend and appreciate it.

  A hurried footing told of the approach of one whom he expected.

  'Luigi!'

  'Here, padrone.'

  'You have the chocolate?'

  'Signor Antonio, I have deposited it in the carriage.'

  'She is in up there?'

  'I beheld her entering.'

  'Good; that is fixed fact.' The Signor Antonio drove at his moustacheright and left. 'I give you, see, Italian money and German money: Germanmoney in paper; and a paper written out by me to explain the value ofthe German paper-money. Silence, engine that you are, and not a man! Iam preventive of stupidity, I am? Do I not know that, hein? Am I inneed of the acclamation of you, my friend? On to the ChateauSonnenberg:--drive on, drive on, and one who stops you, you drive overhim: the gendarmes in white will peruse this paper, if there is anyquestion, and will pass you and the cage, bowing; you hear? It is apass; the military pass you when you show this paper. My good friend,Captain Weisspriess, on the staff of General Pierson, gives it, signed,and it is effectual. But you lose not the paper: put it away with thepaper-money, quite safe. For yourself, this is half your pay--I giveyou napoleons; ten. Count. And now--once at the Chateau Sonnenberg,I repeat, you leave her in charge of two persons, one a woman, at thegate, and then back--frrrrr....'

  Antonio-Pericles smacked on the flat of his hand, and sounded a rapidcourse of wheels.

  'Back, and drop not a crumb upon the road. You have your map. It is,after Roveredo, straight up the Adige, by Bolzano... say "Botzen."'

  '"Botz,"' said Luigi, submissively.

  '"Botz"--"Botz"--ass! fool! double idiot! "Botzon!"' Antonio-Periclescorrected him furiously, exclaiming to the sovereign skies, 'Though Ipay for brains, can I get them! No. But make a fiasco, Luigi, and not asecond ten for you, my friend: and away, out of my sight, show yourselfno more!'

  Luigi humbly said that he was not the instrument of a fiasco.

  Half spurning him, Antonio-Pericles snarled an end both to his advicesand his prophetic disgust of the miserable tools furnished unto masterlyminds upon this earth. He paced forward and back, murmuring in French,'Mon Dieu! was there ever such a folly as in the head of this girl? Itis her occasion:--Shall I be a Star? Shall I be a Cinder? It is tomorrownight her moment of Birth! No; she prefers to be extinguished. For what?For this thing she calls her country. It is infamous. Yes, vile littlecheat! But, do you know Antonio-Pericles? Not yet. I will nourish you,I will imprison you: I will have you tortured by love, by the very devilof love, by the red-hot pincers of love, till you scream a music, anddie to melt him with your voice, and kick your country to the gutter,and know your Italy for a birthplace and a cradle of Song, and no more,and enough! Bah!'

  Having thus delivered himself of the effervescence of his internalagitation, he turned sharply round upon Luigi, with a military stamp ofthe foot and shout of the man's name.

  'It is love she wants,' Antonio-Pericles resumed his savage soliloquy.'She wants to be kindled on fire. Too much Government of brain; notsufficient Insurrection of heart! There it is. There it lies. But,little fool! you shall find people with arms and shots and cannonrunning all up and down your body, firing and crying out "Victory forLove!" till you are beaten, till you gasp "Love! love! love!" and thencomes a beatific--oh! a heaven and a hell to your voice. I will pay,'the excited connoisseur pursued more deliberately: 'I will pay half myfortune to bring this about. I am fortified, for I know such a voice wassent to be sublime.' He exclaimed in an ecstasy: 'It opens the skies!'and immediately appended: 'It is destined to suffocate the theatres!'

  Pausing as before a splendid vision: 'Money--let it go like dust! I havean object. Sandra Belloni--you stupid Vittoria Campa!--I have millionsand the whole Austrian Government to back me, and you to be wilful,little rebel! I could laugh. It is only Love you want. Your voice isnow in a marble chamber. I will put it in a palace of cedarwood. ThisAmmiani I let visit you in the hope that he would touch you.

  Bah! he is a patriot--not a man! He cannot make you wince and pine, andbe cold and be hot, and--Bah! I give a chance to some one else who isnot a patriot. He has done mischief with the inflammable little Anna vonLenkenstein--I know it. Your proper lovers, you women, are the broad,the business lovers, and Weisspriess is your man.'

  Antonio-Pericles glanced up at the maestro's windows. 'Hark! it isher voice,' he said, and drew up his clenched fists with rage, as ifpumping. 'Cold as ice! Not a flaw. She is a lantern with no light init--crystal, if you like. Hark now at Irma, the stork-neck. Aie! whata long way it is from your throat to your head, Mademoiselle Irma!You were reared upon lemons. The split hair of your mural crown is notthinner than that voice of yours. It is a mockery to hear you; but youare good enough for the people, my dear, and you do work, running up anddown that ladder of wires between your throat and your head;--you work,it is true, you puss! sleek as a puss, bony as a puss, musical as apuss. But you are good enough for the people. Hola!'

  This exclamation was addressed to a cavalier who was dismounting fromhis horse about fifty yards down the street, and who, giving the reinsto a mounted servant, advanced to meet the Signor Antonio.

  'It is you, Herr Captain von Weisspriess!'

  'When he makes an appointment you see him, as a rule, my dear Pericles,'returned the captain.

  'You are out of uniform--good. We will go up. Remember, you are aconnoisseur, from Bonn--from Berlin--from Leipsic: not of the K.K. army!Abjure it, or you make no way with this mad thing. You shall see her andhear her, and judge if she is worth your visit to Schloss Sonnenberg anda short siege. Good: we go aloft. You bow to the maestro respectfullytwice, as in duty; then a third time, as from a whisper of your soul.Vanitas, vanitatis! You speak of the 'UT de poitrine.' You remark:"Albrechtsberger has said---," and you slap your head and stop. Theythink, "
He is polite, and will not quote a German authority to us": andthey think, "He will not continue his quotation; in truth, he scornfullyconsiders it superfluous to talk of counterpoint to us poor Italians."Your Christian name is Johann?--you are Herr Johannes. Look at her well.I shall not expose you longer than ten minutes to their observation.Frown meditative; the elbow propped and two fingers in the left cheek;and walk into the room with a stoop: touch a note of the piano, leaningyour ear to it as in detection of five-fifteenths of a shade of discord.Frown in trouble as of a tooth. So, when you smile, it is immense praiseto them, and easy for you.'

  The names of the Signor Antonio-Pericles and Herr Johannes were taken upto the maestro.

  Tormented with curiosity, Luigi saw them enter the house. The face andthe martial or sanguinary reputation of Captain Weisspriess were notunknown to him. 'What has he to do with this affair?' thought Luigi, andsauntered down to the captain's servant, who accepted a cigar from him,but was rendered incorruptible by ignorance of his language. He observedthat the horses were fresh, and were furnished with saddle-bags as foran expedition. What expedition? To serve as escort to the carriage?--anonsensical idea. But the discovery that an idea is nonsensical is nota satisfactory solution of a difficulty. Luigi squatted on his haunchesbeside the doorstep, a little under one of the lower windows of RoccoRicci's house. Earlier than he expected, the captain and Signor Antoniocame out; and as soon as the door had closed behind them, the captainexclaimed, 'I give you my hand on it, my brave Pericles. You have doneme many services, but this is finest of all. She's superb. She's a nicelittle wild woman to tame. I shall go to the Sonnenberg immediately.I have only to tell General Pierson that his nephew is to be preventedfrom playing the fool, and I get leave at once, if there's no activework.'

  'His nephew, Lieutenant Pierson, or Pole--hein?' interposed the Greek.

  'That 's the man. He 's on the Marshal's staff. He 's engaged to theCountess Lena von Lenkenstein. She has fire enough, my Pericles.'

  'The Countess Anna, you say?' The Greek stretched forward his ear, andwas never so near getting it vigorously cuffed.

  'Deafness is an unpardonable offence, my dear Pericles.'

  Antonio-Pericles sniffed, and assented, 'It is the stupidity of theear.'

  'I said, the Countess Lena.'

  'Von Lenkenstein; but I choose to be further deaf.'

  'To the devil, sir. Do you pretend to be angry?' cried Weisspriess.

  'The devil, sir, with your recommendation, is too black for me to visithim,' Antonio-Pericles rejoined.

  'By heaven, Pericles, for less than what you allow yourself to say, I'vesent men to him howling!'

  They faced one another, pulling at their moustachios. Weisspriesslaughed.

  'You're not a fighting man, Pericles.'

  The Greek nodded affably. 'One is in my way, I have him put out of myway. It is easiest.'

  'Ah! easiest, is it?' Captain Weisspriess 'frowned meditative' over thisremarkable statement of a system. 'Well, it certainly saves trouble.Besides, my good Pericles, none but an ass would quarrel with you. I wasobserving that General Pierson wants his nephew to marry the CountessLena immediately; and if, as you tell me, this girl Belloni, who iscalled la Vittoria--the precious little woman!--has such power over him,it's quite as well, from the General's point of view, that she shouldbe out of the way at Sonnenberg. I have my footing at the Duchess ofGraath's. I believe she hopes that I shall some day challenge and killher husband; and as I am supposed to have saved Major de Pyrmont'slife, I am also an object of present gratitude. Do you imagine that yourlittle brown-eyed Belloni scented one of her enemies in me?'

  'I know nothing of imagination,' the Signor Antonio observed frigidly.

  'Till we meet!' Captain Weisspriess kissed his fingers, half as uptoward the windows, and half to the Greek. 'Save me from having to teachlove to your Irma!'

  He ran to join his servant.

  Luigi had heard much of the conversation, as well as the last sentence.

  'It shall be to la Irma if it is to anybody,' Luigi muttered.

  'Let Weisspriess--he will not awake love in her--let him kindle hate,it will do,' said the Signor Antonio. 'She has seen him, and if he meetsher on the route to Meran, she will think it her fascination.'

  Looking at his watch and at the lighted windows, he repeated his specialinjunctions to Luigi. 'It is near the time. I go to sleep. I am gettingold: I grow nervous. Ten-twenty in addition, you shall have, if allis done right. Your weekly pay runs on. Twenty--you shall have thirty!Thirty napoleons additional!'

  Ten fingers were flashed thrice.

  Luigi gave a jump. 'Padrone, they are mine.'

  'Animal, that shake your belly-bag and brain-box, stand!' cried theGreek, who desired to see Luigi standing firm that he might inspirehimself with confidence in his integrity. When Luigi's posture hadsatisfied him, he turned and went off at great strides.

  'He does pay,' Luigi reflected, seeing that immense virtue in hispatron. 'Yes, he pays; but what is he about? It is this question forme--"Do I serve my hand? or, Do I serve my heart?" My hand takes themoney, and it is not German money. My heart gives the affection, and thesignorina has my heart. She reached me that cigarette on the Motteronelike the Madonna: it is never to be forgotten! I serve my heart! Now,Beppo, you may come; come quick for her. I see the carriage, and thereare three stout fellows in it who could trip and muzzle you at a signalfrom me before you could count the letters of your father's baptismalname. Oh! but if the signorina disobeys me and comes out last!--theSignor Antonio will ask the maestro, who will say, "Yes, la Vittoria washere with me last of the two"; and I lose my ten, my twenty, my thirtynapoleons.'

  Luigi's chest expanded largely with a melancholy draught of air.

  The carriage meantime had become visible at the head of the street,where it remained within hearing of a whistle. One of the Milanese hiredvehicles drove up to the maestro's door shortly after, and Luigicursed it. His worst fears for the future of the thirty napoleons wereconfirmed; the door opened and the Maestro Rocco Ricci, bareheaded andin his black silk dressing-gown, led out Irma di Karski, by some calledrival to la Vittoria; a tall Slavic damsel, whose laughter was not softand smooth, whose cheeks were bright, and whose eyes were deep in thehead and dull. But she had vivacity both of lips and shoulders. Theshoulders were bony; the lips were sharp and red, like winter-berries inthe morning-time. Freshness was not absent from her aspect. The criticalobjection was that it seemed a plastered freshness and not true bloom;or rather it was a savage and a hard, not a sweet freshness. Henceperhaps the name which distinguished her la Lazzeruola (crab apple). Itwas a freshness that did not invite the bite; sour to Italian taste.

  She was apparently in vast delight. 'There will be a perfect inundationto-morrow night from Prague and Vienna to see me even in so miserable apart as Michiella,' she said. 'Here I am supposed to be a beginner; I amno debutante there.'

  'I can believe it, I can believe it,' responded Rocco, bowing for herspeedy departure.

  'You are not satisfied with my singing of Michiella's score! Now, tellme, kind, good, harsh old master! you think that Miss Vittoria wouldsing it better. So do I. And I can sing another part better. You do notknow my capacities.'

  'I am sure there is nothing you would not attempt,' said Rocco, bowingresignedly.

  'There never was question of my courage.'

  'Yes, but courage, courage! away with your courage!' Rocco was spurredby his personal grievances against her in a manner to make him forgethis desire to be rid of her. 'Your courage sets you flying at once atevery fioritura and bravura passage, to subdue, not to learn: not toaccomplish, but to conquer it. And the ability, let me say, is not inproportion to the courage, which is probably too great to be easilyequalled; but you have the opportunity to make your part celebratedto-morrow night, if, as you tell me, the house is to be packed withViennese, and, signorina, you let your hair down.'

  The hair of Irma di Karski was of singular beauty, and so dear to herthat the a
llusion to the triumphant feature of her person passed offRocco's irony in sugar.

  'Addio! I shall astonish you before many hours have gone by,' shesaid; and this time they bowed together, and the maestro tripped backhurriedly, and shut his door.

  Luigi's astonishment eclipsed his chagrin when he beheld the lady stepfrom her place, bidding the driver move away as if he carried a freight,and indicating a position for him at the end of the street, with animperative sway and deflection of her hand. Luigi heard the clear thinsound of a key dropped to her from one of the upper windows. She wasquick to seize it; the door opened stealthily to her, and she passedout of sight without casting a look behind. 'That's a woman going todiscover a secret, if she can,' remarked the observer; meaning thathe considered the sex bad Generals, save when they have occasion topreserve themselves secret; then they look behind them carefully enough.The situation was one of stringent torment to a professional and naturalspy. Luigi lost count of minutes in his irritation at the mystery, whichhe took as a personal offence. Some suspicion or wariness existed inthe lighted room, for the maestro threw up a window, and inspected thestreet to right and left. Apparently satisfied he withdrew his head, andthe window was closed.

  In a little while Vittoria's voice rose audible out of the stillness,though she restrained its volume.

  Its effect upon Luigi was to make him protest to her, whimpering withpathos as if she heard and must be melted: 'Signorina! signorina, mostdear! for charity's sake! I am one of you; I am a patriot. Every man tohis trade, but my heart is all with you.' And so on, louder by fits, ina running murmur, like one having his conscience ransacked, from whichhe was diverted by a side-thought of Irma di Karski, la Lazzeruola,listening, taking poison in at her ears; for Luigi had no hesitation inascribing her behaviour to jealousy. 'Does not that note drive throughyour bosom, excellent lady? I can fancy the tremble going all down yourlegs. You are poisoned with honey. How you hate it! If you only had adagger!'

  Vittoria sang but for a short space. Simultaneously with the cessationof her song Ammiani reached the door, but had scarcely taken hisstand there when, catching sight of Luigi, he crossed the street, andrecognizing him, questioned him sternly as to his business opposite themaestro's house. Luigi pointed to a female figure emerging. 'See! takeher home,' he said. Ammiani released him and crossed back hurriedly,when, smiting his forehead, Luigi cried in despair, 'Thirty napoleonsand my professional reputation lost!' He blew a whistle; the carriagedashed down from the head of the street. While Ammiani was following theswiftly-stepping figure in wonderment (knowing it could not be Vittoria,yet supposing it must be, without any clear aim of his wits), thecarriage drew up a little in advance of her; three men--men of bulk andsinew jumped from it; one threw himself upon Ammiani, the othersgrasped the affrighted lady, tightening a veil over her face, and thecarriage-door shut sharp upon her. Ammiani's assailant then fell away:Luigi flung himself on the box and shouted, 'The signorina is behindyou!' And Ammiani beheld Vittoria standing in alarm, too joyful to knowthat it was she. In the spasm of joy he kissed her hands. Before theycould intercommunicate intelligibly the carriage was out of their sight,going at a gallop along the eastern strada of the circumvallation of thecity.