The friends were again locked in the arms of each other, and mingled their tears--the one for the loss of an _earthly passion_, and the other for a _celestial affection_, as Monte-Leone characterized the two sentiments when he read a letter of Rovero's. Taddeo had appointed the following day for his return to Sorrento, and faithful to his promise he left Naples for the villa of his mother. The farewell of the two men was sad and touching, for a long time must elapse before they met again. Monte-Leone had resolved to leave Naples for some time. The proximity of Sorrento lacerated his heart, and to see her he loved the wife of another would to him be insupportable. Taddeo was aware of the reasons why the Count had determined to travel, and had he no mother he would also have been anxious to leave the country. "Taddeo," said Monte-Leone to his friend, when the former was about to set out, "I have a favor to ask of you on which I place an immense estimate, and for which I must be indebted to your love. Here," said he, presenting the magnificent emerald wrought by Benvenuto Cellini, "take this ring, and beg your sister to accept it. Tell her, as she offered me her friendship, I have a right to send a testimonial to her of my devotion." Then with a voice trembling with emotion, he added, "Say this ring preserved my life. This will not add to its value in her eyes; but tell her in confidence the history of this ring, and some day," said he, with a bitter smile, "it may be looked on as a curious relic." "Not so, not so," said Taddeo, kissing the ring. "To us it cannot but be a precious treasure." Perhaps while he acted thus, Taddeo thought not only of his friend, but of the woman who had preserved him from death. Taddeo left. Fifteen days after his reaching home, all Sorrento put on its holiday attire. The church of the town, splendidly decorated, the lighted torches, the people in their gala dresses, all announced that some remarkable event was about to take place in the village. The bells rung loud peals, and young girls dressed in white, with flowers in their hands, stood on the church portico. Certainly a great event was about to take place. The _White Rose of Sorrento_ was about to be married to a French nobleman of high rank, _Henri Marquis de Maulear_. About noon there was a rumor among the crowd in front of the church that the bridal party were near. All hurried to meet them, and Aminta was seen leaning on her brother's arm, while the Marquis escorted Signora Rovero.