"Ah! wherefore that reproach?--for a reproach it is!" interrupted the countess. "No claim on me! Hast thou not my heart? and in giving thee that, Manuel, I laid at thy feet a poor offering, which, though so poor, yet absorbs all others of which I may dispose! Do not reproach me, Manuel--for I would lay down my life to save thy soul from pain, or thy name from dishonor!" "Now art thou my own Giulia!" cried the marquis, pressing her hand to his lips. "An accursed fatality seems to hang over me! This habit of gaming entraps me as the wine cup fascinates the bibber who would fain avoid it, but cannot. Listen to me for one moment, Giulia. In the public casino--which, as thou well knowest, is a place of resort where fortunes are lost and won in an hour--ay, sometimes in a minute--I have met a man whose attire is good, and whose purse is well filled, but whose countenance I like as little as I should that of the captain of the sbirri, or his lieutenant, if I had committed a crime. This individual of whom I speak--for I know not his name--was the favored votary of Dame Fortune who won of me that sum which thy kindness, Giulia, alone enabled me to pay but a few days past. And now am I a second time this man's debtor. An hour ago he entered the casino; he stayed but for ten minutes--and in that time----" "Oh! Manuel, is not this conduct of thine something bordering on madness?" interrupted the countess. "And if thou art thus wedded to that fatal habit, how canst thou find room in thy heart for a single gleam of affection for me?" "Now dost thou reproach me in thy turn, Giulia!" exclaimed the young marquis. "But believe me, my angel," he continued, exerting all his powers to bend her to his purpose,--"believe me when I declare--oh! most solemnly declare, by all that I put faith in, and by all I hope for hereafter--that could I be relieved from this embarrassment--extricated from this difficulty----" "Heavens! how can it be done?" interrupted the countess, casting her eyes wildly round; for the time was passing--she suddenly remembered that the bandit was still concealed in the room--and then, her husband might return earlier than was expected. "Oh! if you despair of the means, Giulia," said the marquis, "I must fly from Florence--I must exile myself forever from the city of my birth, and which is still more endeared to me because," he added, sinking his voice to a tender tone,--"because, my well-beloved, it contains thee!" "No, Manuel--you must not quit Florence and leave a dishonored name behind thee!" exclaimed this lovely woman, who was thus sublimely careful of the reputation of him for whom she had so long compromised her own. "What can be done? would that I had the means to raise this sum----" "It is with shame that I suggest----" said Manuel. "What? Speak--speak! The means?" "Thy jewels, dearest--thy diamonds----"