And this last name was pronounced by the old man as if it contained the promise of success. “At Turin!” exclaimed Charney, eagerly raising his drooping head. “For the last two days,” replied Girardi, delighted to see his advice less vehemently rejected than usual by the Count. “And how far is it from Turin to Fenestrella?” continued Charney. “By the Giaveno and Avigliano road, not more than seven leagues.” “What space of time is necessary for the journey?” “Four or five hours, at the least: for at this moment the roads are obstructed by troops, baggage-waggons, and the equipages of those who are hastening to the approaching festival. The road that winds through the valleys by the riverside is certainly the longest, but in the end would probably cause less delay.” “And do you think it possible,” resumed Charney, “to procure a messenger for me who would reach Turin this very night?” “My daughter would try to find a trustworthy person.” “And you say that General Bonaparte—that the First Consul——” “I said _the Emperor_,” gravely interrupted Girardi. “The Emperor, then—you say that the Emperor is at Turin?” resumed Charney, as if gathering courage for some strong measure. “I will address a memorial, then, to the Emperor.” And the Count dwelt upon the latter word, as if to accustom himself to the new road he had determined to follow. [Illustration] “Heaven’s mercy be praised!” ejaculated the old man: “for Heaven itself has inspired this victory over the instigations of sinful human pride! Yes—write! let your petition for pardon be worded in proper form; and my friends Fossombroni, Cotenna, and Delarue, will support it with all their interest, with Marescalchi, the minister, with Cardinal Caprara, and even with Melzi, who has just been appointed chancellor of the new kingdom. Who knows? We may perhaps quit Fenestrella on the same day! you to recommence a life of usefulness and activity—I, to follow the gentle guidance of my daughter.” “Nay, sir—nay,” cried the Count. “Forgive me if I decline the protection to which your good-will would generously recommend me. It is to the Emperor in person that my memorial must be remitted—to-night, or early in the morning. Do you answer to me for a messenger?” “I do,” said the old man, firmly, after a momentary pause. “One question more,” added Charney. “Is there no chance of your being compromised by the service you are so kind as to render me?” “The pleasure of being of use to you leaves me no leisure for apprehension,” answered Girardi. “Let me but lend my aid to the alleviation of your afflictions, and I am content. Should evil arise, I know how to submit to the decrees of Providence.” Charney was deeply touched by these simple expressions. Tears glistened in his eyes as he raised them towards the good old man.