"Yes, ladies; and I hope to escape many more such days. I trust you will excuse this somewhat unseasonable visit, Signora Bianca," said I, slightly pressing her hand; "but being ordered off on the spur to Crotona, I have taken the liberty of visiting you, to be the bearer of any message or letters to Monsignore Luigi." "How very kind of you, Signor Claude; but—but you do not proceed on the road to Crotona to-night?" "I must, indeed, ride forward without delay; and believe me the general, kind-hearted though he be, would scarcely excuse my having made a detour, even to visit the Villa D’Alfieri." "O, Signor Claude, consider the state of the country!" said she earnestly, as I seated myself at the other end of the sofa, evincing not the least hurry in the world. "’Consider the nature of the service,’ the general would reply; but I believe that the wildest bandit in Italy—not even Francatripa, or Frà Diavolo—would molest a British soldier." "You, perhaps, trust them too far. But, indeed, our oppressed people are not quite so bad as the Parisian papers have represented them." By this time the distance between us on the sofa was greatly diminished, and I was about to say something very pointed and gallant, when Annina entered with a tray of refreshments, which she placed on the ebony table before us. I saw a cunning smile twinkling in her black eyes as she watched us, while arranging the ices, the crystal goblets, and a superbly embossed caraffa of the wine of Gioja—a village of Calabria, famed for the excellence of its grapes. The Viscontessa was, as I have said, at Nicastro, where, I heartily hoped, she would continue to enjoy herself; not wishing my tête-a-tête with these two charming girls to be interrupted by her presence, or that of the Major. "O, signor, tell us how you captured the standard at Maida?" asked Luisa. Well aware how much such an encounter makes one shine in the estimation of women, I briefly related the whole affair; deriving considerable satisfaction from the expressions of horror, pity, and surprise, that flitted in succession across the fair faces of the listeners. "And so you escaped unhurt!" exclaimed Bianca clasping her hands—with delight I was fain to suppose. "Quite, signora: you observe my thick glove, and the curb rein—" "And the bearer—the poor Frenchman!" said Luisa, fixing her blue eyes upon me. "Escaped, I am now happy to say. Poor fellow! ’tis said he was Regnier’s son." "Phillipe Regnier! O my God!" murmured Luisa in a breathless voice. "Luisa!" exclaimed Bianca, surveying her pale features with astonishment. The poor girl blushed deeply, and bent over her embroidery frame, adding, in a faltering voice, that she herself was soon to behold such scenes, and looked forward to them with horror. "True, Luisa, dear," said Bianca, kissing her cheek, "You set out with your father for our army at Cassano to-morrow."