She started, shook back the heavy ringlets from her snowy brow, and gazed upon us with dark but brilliant eyes, which expressed more astonishment than grief. "Despina Vignola," exclaimed Castelermo, as he started back apace, and regarded her with a glance rather of deep sorrow than wonder. "Ah, Despina! how little could I once have dreamed we should have met here, and greeted each other thus!" She gazed alternately at the dark but handsome features of the cavaliere and the broad black velvet cross on the breast of his scarlet uniform; and her glance of wonder gradually changed to one of confusion, recognition, and anger: she covered her blushing features with her pale hand, but for an instant only, and then looking up with an air of hauteur, said— "This meeting is quite as unexpected to me as it may be to you, Signori Cavalieri. How is it that you have this night slain my dear husband, the Signor Galdino; and within his own house of Belcastro?" "A cool question!" said Marco, bitterly, gnawing his glove, while his proud spirit was roused by her cold nonchalance; "admirably so! and to be asked by a notary’s niece, of a cavaliere of the house of Ruffo Sciglio——" "Ruffo, the traitor!" said she, scornfully: "but you reply not to my question." "I will ask but another, Why the devil your amiable sposo slew himself? Basta! he fell into that deadly snare which his deliberate villany and groundless hate prepared for better men. But let me be gentle: perhaps at this moment he is making answer for his misdeeds before that dread tribunal where all men must one day stand—the prince and the peasant, the high-born lord and the homeless lazarone. (Here Marco signed the cross, and all bowed their heads, save myself.) Peace be with his ashes! I shall forget that in the days of my joyous youth he robbed me of my poor patrimony, and deprived me of that which was dearer to me than all the world beside—the love of thee, Despina; forcing me to abandon my country, and serve in the wars of the Maltese knights as a humble musketeer of the galleys. A knight of St. John should bear no enmity to the dead, and wars not with Christian men; unless another’s sword is drawn upon him, after which I trust he will stand buffets and blows like a true cavalier of the Rock." "Bravissimo!" said the lady, affecting to smile scornfully through the tears which glittered in her fine eyes, "a woman’s apartment is an excellent place to swagger and bluster in. You have all the manners of a Venetian bravo, signor." "Those of a Venetian captain might be more pleasing," retorted the excited cavalier. "But I will quit your roof, signora, and travel to Belcastro; though this night Charybdis yawned in my path. Basta! the wearer of such a badge as this cross is scarcely safe in the house of a damsel so famous for her gallantries."