Again she stopped.
"Speak—speak, my child," he answered; "tell me all that is in your mind."
Before she could reply, the count and Baldassare reappeared, accompanied by the porter of the Guinigi Palace and the keys.
"Are you sure you would rather not return home again, Enrica? You have only to turn the corner, remember," asked Trenta, looking at her with anxious affection.
"No, no," she answered, greatly confused; "please say nothing—not now—another time. I should like to ascend the tower; let us go on."
The cavaliere was greatly puzzled. It was plain there was something on her mind. What could it be? How fortunate, he told himself, if she had taken a liking to Marescotti, and desired to confess it! This would make all easy. When he had spoken to the count, he would contrive to see her alone, and insist upon knowing if it were so.
The door was now opened, and the porter led the way, followed by the count and Baldassare. Trenta came next, Enrica last. They ascended stair after stair almost in darkness. After having mounted a considerable height, the porter unlocked a small door that barred their farther advance. Above appeared the blackened walls of the hollow tower, broken by the loop-holes already mentioned, through which the ardent sunshine slanted. Before them was a wooden stair, crossing from angle to angle up to a dizzy height, with no other support but a frail banister; this even was broken in places. The count and Enrica both entreated the cavaliere to remain below. Marescotti ventured to allude to his great age—a subject he himself continually, as has been seen, mentioned, but which he generally much resented when alluded to by others.
Trenta listened with perfect gravity and politeness, but, when the count had done speaking, he placed his foot firmly on the first stair, and began to ascend after the porter. The others were obliged to follow. At the last flight several loose planks shook ominously under their feet; but Trenta, assisted by his stick, stepped on perseveringly. He also insisted on helping Enrica, who was next to him, and who by this time was both giddy and frightened. At length a trap-door, at the top of the tower, was reached and unbarred by the attendant. Without, covered with grass, is a square platform, protected by a machicolated parapet of turreted stone-work. In the centre rises a cluster of ancient bay-trees, fresh and luxuriant, spite of the wind and storms of centuries.
The count leaped out upon the greensward and rushed to the parapet.
"How beautiful!" he exclaimed, throwing back his head and drawing in the warm air. "See how the sun of New Italy lights up the old city! Cathedral, palace, church, gallery, roof, tower, all ablaze at our feet! Speak, tell me, is it not wonderful?" and he turned to Enrica, who, anxiously turning from side to side, was trying to discover where she could best overlook the street of San Simone and Nobili's palace.