The Angelos hoped that the cloud would pass over, and that, after giving vent to her vexation, Mila would be all the more loving and Magnani all the happier. Indeed, they had interviews and battles of words and sentiments, in which they were so near coming to terms, that their sudden falling-out again a moment later, Magnani's depression and Mila's excitement, seemed inexplicable. Magnani was terrified sometimes to find so much spirit and will-power in a woman. Mila was afraid of so much gravity and unwavering common sense in a man. It seemed to her that Magnani was incapable of feeling a great passion, and she wished to inspire one, because she felt in a mood to plunge into it violently on her own account. He always spoke and thought like virtue personified, and it was with an imperceptible touch of irony that Mila called him the _just man par excellence_. She was very coquettish with him, and Magnani, instead of taking pleasure in her ingenious and strenuous efforts to please him, was afraid that she was a little coquettish with all men. Ah! if he had seen her in the Piccinino's boudoir, holding in check and subduing by her exquisite chastity, by her virile simplicity, so to speak, the young brigand's crafty inclinations and evil thoughts, Magnani would have realized that Mila was no coquette, since she was coquettish with him alone. But the unfortunate man was not familiar with women; and, because he had loved so long in silence and sorrow, he had no conception of the delicate and mysterious problems of requited love. He was over-modest. He took Mila's cruel pleasantness too seriously, and scolded her for being so unkind to him when he ought to have thanked her on his knees. Moreover, to tell the whole truth, that Nicolosi affair was stamped with the seal of fatality, like everything else that was connected, though it were by the tiniest thread, with the Piccinino's mysterious existence. Without touching upon the details which demanded secrecy, they had told Magnani everything that could set his mind at rest concerning that adventure of Mila's. Fra Angelo, always loyal to his secret predilection for the bandit, had vouched for his chivalrous and honorable conduct under such circumstances. The princess, loving Mila with a maternal love, had spoken with heartfelt eloquence of the girl's devotion and courage. Pier-Angelo had arranged everything for the best, in his happy and unsuspecting brain. Michel alone had shuddered upon learning of the episode, and he thanked Providence for performing a miracle in behalf of his charming and noble-hearted sister. But despite his grandeur of soul, Magnani had been unable to look upon Mila's performance as the result of a worthy impulse; and, although he never mentioned the subject, he suffered intensely, as may be imagined.