The transport of fury which possessed the marchesa had had the effect of completely recalling Trenta to himself. For his great age, Trenta possessed extraordinary recuperative powers, both of body and mind. Not only had he so far recovered while the marchesa had been speaking as to arrange his hair and his features, and to smoothe the creases of his official coat into something of their habitual punctilious neatness, but he had had time to reflect. Unless he could turn the marchesa from her dreadful purpose, Enrica (still under all circumstances his beloved child) would infallibly be turned into the street by her remorseless aunt.
At the moment that the marchesa had laid her hand upon the bell,
Trenta darted forward and tore it from her hand.
"For the love of the Virgin, pause before you commit so horrible an act!"
So sudden had been his movement, so unwonted his energy, that the marchesa was checked in the very climax of her passion.
"If you have no mercy on a child that you have reared at your side," exclaimed Trenta, laying his hand on hers, "spare yourself, your name, your house, such a scandal! Is it for this that you cherish the name of the great Paolo Guinigi, whose acts were acts of clemency and wisdom? Is it for this you honor the memory of Castruccio Castracani, who was called the 'father of the people?' Bethink you, marchesa, that they lived under this very roof. You dare not—no, not even you—dare not tarnish their memories! Call Enrica here. It is the barest justice that the accused should be heard. Ask her what she has done? Ask her what has passed? How she has met Count Nobili? Until an hour ago I could have sworn she did not even know him."
"Ay, ay," burst out the marchesa, "so could I. How did she come to know him?"
"That is precisely what we must learn," continued Trenta, eagerly seizing on the slightest abatement of the marchesa's wrath. "That is what we must ask her. Marchesa, in common decency, you cannot put your own niece out of your house without seeing her and hearing her explanation."
"You may call her, if you please," answered the marchesa, with a look of dogged rage; "but I warn you, Cesare Trenta, if she avows her love for Nobili in my presence, I shall esteem that in itself the foulest crime she can commit. If she avows it, she leaves my house to-night. Let her die!—I care not what becomes of her!"