“Had I requested the favour of an interview with one so noble, so rich, and so much loved by a man who is almost a king, is it probable that you would have granted it to me, so poor and unknown? Tell me, madame. But even if you had been so condescending, you might have delayed your answer, and I have no time to wait.”
“What, then, can I do for you?” said Gemma, recovering herself by degrees.
“Everything, madame; for you hold in your hands my despair or my happiness—my death or my life.”
“I do not understand you; explain yourself,” faltered out the countess.
“You have,” said the stranger, “a young woman from Bauso in your service.”
“Teresa?” asked the countess.
“Yes, Teresa,” replied the young man in trembling accents. “Now, this young woman is to be married to a valet de chambre of the Prince de Carini, and she is betrothed to me.”
“Ah! it is you, then?” said the countess.
“Yes, it was I she was about to marry when she received your letter desiring her to come to you. She promised to remain faithful to me—to mention me to you, and if you refused her request, she pledged her word to return to me. I continued to expect her; but three years passed by, and yet I saw her not; and as she has not returned to me, I have come to seek her. On my arrival I learnt all, and then I thought I would throw myself on my knees before you, and ask Teresa of you.”
“Teresa is a girl I am partial to,” said the countess, “and I do not wish her to leave me. Gaetano is the prince’s valet de chambre, and by marrying him she will still remain near me.”