"Help me to shut it," said Regina, and while he bent over the lock, which was a little out of order, she added-- "Suppose there's a railway accident, and I get killed?" "Let's hope not," he replied absently. "Or suppose I am awfully hurt? Suppose I am taken to some hospital and have to remain there a long time?" This time he made no reply at all. "Do say something! What would you do?" "Why on earth are you always thinking of such things? If you have these fancies why are you going away? There! It's locked. Where are the straps?" he asked, getting up. She looked at him as he stood before her, so tall, so handsome, so upright, his eyes brilliant in the rosy sunset light. "To-morrow we shall be far apart!" she cried, flinging herself on his neck and kissing him deliriously; "you will be true to me! Say you will be true to me! Oh, God! if we should never see each other again!" "You do love me, then?" "So much--so much----" He saw her turn pale and tremble, and he pressed her to him, losing all consciousness of himself, overwhelmed by the pleasure and the passion which intoxicated him each time Regina showed him any tenderness. They kissed each other, and their kisses had a warmth, a bitterness, an occult savour of anguish, which produced a sense of ineffable voluptuousness. Regina wept; Antonio said senseless things and implored her not to leave him. Then they both laughed. "After all you aren't going to the North Pole," said Antonio. "I declare you are really crying! Pooh! a month will soon pass. And I'll come very soon. At this hour we'll go out together in a boat, when the Po is all rosy----" "If there isn't a railway accident!" she said bitterly. "Well! here are the straps. Pull them as tight as you can." PART II CHAPTER I The crazy little carriage belonging to Petrin il Gliglo rattled along by the river-side towards Viadana. Regina was seated, not particularly comfortably, between her brother and sister, who had come to meet her at Casalmaggiore station. She laughed and talked, but now and then fell silent, absent-minded, and sad. Then Toscana and Gigino, being slightly in awe of her, became also silent and embarrassed. The night was hot; the sky opaque blue, furrowed by long grey clouds. The big red moon, just risen above the horizon, illumined the river and the motionless woods with a splendour suggestive of far-off fire. The immense silence was now and then broken by distant voices from across the Po; a sharp damp odour of grass flooded the air, waking in Regina a train of melancholy associations.