"I have long known Count Nobili. He has the faults of his age. He is impulsive—vain, perhaps—but at the same time he is loyal and generous. He was not himself when he wrote that letter. There is a passionate sorrow about it that convinces me of this. He has been misled. The offer you sanctioned of Enrica's hand to Count Marescotti, has been misrepresented to him. Undoubtedly Nobili ought to have sought an explanation before he left Lucca; but, the more he loved Enrica, the more he must have suffered before he could so address her."
"You justify Count Nobili, then, my father, not only for abandoning my niece, but for endeavoring to blast her character? Is this your Christianity?" The marchesa asked this question with bitter scorn; her keen eyes shone mockingly out of the darkness. "I told you what he was, remember. I have some knowledge of him and of his father."
"My daughter, I do not defend him. If need be, I have sworn to punish him with my own hand. But, until I know all the circumstances, I pity him; I repeat, I pity him. Some powerful influence must have been brought to bear upon Nobili. It may have been a woman."
"Ha! ha!" laughed the marchesa, contemptuously. "You admit, then,
Nobili has a taste for women?"
Fra Pacifico rose suddenly from his chair. An expression of deep displeasure was on his face, which had grown crimson under the marchesa's taunts.
"I desire no altercation, marchesa, nor will I permit you to address such unseemly words to me. What I deem fitting I shall say, now and always. It is my duty. You have called me here. What do you want? How can I help you? In all things lawful I am ready to do so. Nay, I will take the whole matter on myself if you desire."
As he spoke, Fra Pacifico stooped and raised Nobili's crumpled letter from the floor. He spread it out open on the table. The marchesa motioned to him to reseat himself. He did so.
"What I want?" she said, taking up the priest's words. "I will tell you. When I bring Count Nobili here"—the marchesa spoke very slowly, and stretched out her long fingers, as though she held him already in her grasp—"when I bring Count Nobili here, I want you to perform the marriage ceremony. It must take place immediately. Under the circumstances the marriage had better be private."
"I shall not perform the ceremony," answered Fra Pacifico, his full, deep voice ringing through the room, "at your bidding only. Enrica must also consent. Enrica must consent in my presence."
As the light of the lamp struck upon Fra Pacifico, the lines about his mouth deepened, and that look of courage and of command the people of Corellia knew so well was marked upon his countenance. A rock might have been moved, but not Fra Pacifico.