“Merciful Heaven!” vociferated the poor girl—“we have scarcely got beyond the suburbs!” Roused by this exclamation, the driver rubbed his eyes and hastened to reassure her. “We are approaching Asti,” said he. “The steeples you see behind you are those of Renigano. No cause to find fault with Losca and Zoppa; they can only just have begun their nap. Poor beasts! they have earned their rest hardly. Heaven send they may not have profited by mine, to make a trot of it.” Teresa smiled. “Gee! away with you, jades!” he continued, with a crack of the whip which awoke both his wife and the mules. And soon afterwards, at the gates of Asti, the worthy china-man took leave of his passenger, assisted her to alight, and after signing the cross over the twenty livres he received for her fare, turned straight round with his mules, and made off deliberately for Renigano. Half of her way to Alexandria was thus accomplished; but, alas! it was now scarcely possible to arrive in time for the levee of the Emperor. “Yet no doubt an Emperor must be late in rising!” thought Teresa; and oh! how she longed to thrust below the horizon again the sun which was just making its importunate appearance! Expecting that every thing around her would bear tokens of her own agitation, she fancied the whole population of Asti must be already astir, in preparation for a journey to Alexandria; and that amid the confusion of carriages and carts about to take the road, it would be easy to secure a place in some public conveyance. [Illustration] What, therefore, was her astonishment, on entering the town, to find the streets still silent and deserted, and the sun scarcely yet high enough to shine on more than the roofs of the highest houses and the dome of the church! It occurred to her at that moment that one of her maternal relations resided at Asti, who might render her assistance; and perceiving through the ground-floor window of a mean-looking house the red glimmering of a fire, she knocked, and ventured to inquire her way to the abode of her kinsman. A harsh voice answered her through the window that, for the last three months, the individual in question had been residing at his country-house at Monbercello; and thus disappointed, and alone in the solitary streets of a strange town, Teresa began to feel terrified and uneasy. To reanimate her courage, she turned towards a Madonna, before which, in an adjoining niche, a lamp was burning, and breathed her morning prayer. Scarcely had she concluded her orisons, when she was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps, and a man soon made his appearance. “Can you tell me of a conveyance to Alexandria?” said she, civilly accosting the stranger. “Too late, my pretty one! every cart and carriage has been bespoken this week past!” he replied, and hastened on his way. A second man came by, to whom Teresa ventured to address the same inquiry. But this time the answer was delivered in a harsh and reproving tone.