"We will arrange all that," answered Giovanni, laughing. "If you think I can exist by only seeing you once a week—well, you do not know me."
"We shall see," returned Corona, laughing too. "By the bye, how long have we been here?"
"I do not know," said Giovanni; "but the view is magnificent, is it not?"
"Enchanting," she replied, looking into his eyes. Then suddenly the blood mounted to her cheeks. "Oh, Giovanni," she said, "how could I do it?"
"I should have died if you had not," he answered, and clasped her once more in his arms.
"Come," said she, "let us be going down. It is growing late."
When they reached the foot of the tower, they found the Prince walking the rampart alone. Sister Gabrielle was afraid of the evening air, and had retired into the house. Old Saracinesca faced them suddenly. He looked like an old lion, his thick white hair and beard bristling about his dark features.
"My father," said Giovanni, coming forward, "the Duchessa d'Astrardente has consented to be my wife. I crave your blessing."
The old man started, and then stood stock-still. His son had fairly taken his breath away, for he had not expected the news for three or four months to come. Then he advanced and took Corona's hand, and kissed it.
"Madam," he said, "you have done my son an honour which extends to myself and to every Saracinesca, dead, living, and to come."