And now she understood why she had always remembered the old stone. It would have meant nothing to her if it had not lain exactly at that spot, on that little tree-shadowed pathway, which was full of memories of him. She stepped down it, standing for a minute among the willows, which had grown immensely, then approaching the water, now all bluish-white, gleaming under the moon. But the Po had made a new island, as soft and frothy as a chocolate cream, and even the river-side seemed to her changed. Adamo and Toscana descended also to the water's edge, and the girl began to sing. Her voice trembled in the moonlit silence like the gurgle of a nightingale. Why she knew not, but Regina remembered the first evening at the Princess's and the voice of the elderly lady who had sung "_A te, cara._" How far off was that world! So far that perhaps she might never--never enter it again! Ah! well! that mattered nothing! In this moonlight hour, in face of the purity of the river and of her native landscape, she seemed to have awakened from some pernicious intoxicating dream. Yet she was tormented by the doubt, the fear, that never again would she see the personages of her fevered dream, because never would Antonio come to lead her back into that far-off world. The days would pass, the months, the years. He would never come. Never! not after the three years of her suggesting, nor after ten, nor after twenty! How was it she had not thought of this when she had secretly planned her flight, even as a bird schemes to leave its cage without considering the perils to which it must expose itself? How could she help it? Which of us knows what we shall think or feel to-morrow? She had been dreaming; she was dreaming still. Even her increased terror, her fear that Antonio would forget her, was perhaps no more than a dreadful dream. But--if her dread should prove reality---- "What would become of me?" she thought, seemingly fascinated by the splendour of the running water. "There is no longer any place for me here. Everything is changed; everything seems to mistrust me. I have been a traitor to my old world, and now it pushes me from it! And I--I did not foresee that!" "Come! Let us go!" she said, shaking herself and returning to the main path. She walked along, her head drooping, thinking she was surely mistaken. Her old world could not betray her! It was too old to be guilty of any such crime! "Life is certainly quite different here, but I'll get used to it again. To-morrow, by daylight, when I am rested, I shall see everything in its old sweet aspect!" For the present she dared not raise her eyes, lest she should see the willow which had protected their first kiss. She hurried past, fearful of an unforgettable spectre. Toscana followed her singing, while Adamo, whose figure showed like a black spot on the glistening enamel of the water, amused himself shouting-- "Antonio--o--o. Antonio--o--o."