After reflection, I resolved to go to Naples to learn something definite. Our travelling arrangements were soon made, and the following afternoon we left Baie.
The classic ruins, the ocean, the beautiful shore, and the graves of Blanche and Lord Glenfells, were soon lost to my longing eyes, in the windings of the road. The town, the mountains, sea, rivulets, ruins and all, were enveloped in the blue mists of heaven.
The next day I again beheld the fair city of Naples rising on the hill, with her lofty towers, gardens, churches, castles and splendid private dwellings, rearing their superb height one above the other; and again I drove through the beautiful street Toledo. I hastened to the house of Madame Bonni; but two years had created changes in Naples. The good woman was gone, and another dwelt in her house. I secured apartments, however, in one of the most retired hotels, and then sent for the Court Guide, to ascertain the residence of Count Calabrella, whom I regarded as my only friend in this great trouble; it was brought, and after ascertaining his address, I sent mine to him.
He came immediately. When he entered my parlour I rushed toward him, and showing him the letter I held in my hand, exclaimed:
“Is this true? Oh! tell me, dear count, is it true?”
“Be calm, dear lady, I entreat you; be composed; this is an unexpected meeting. I had intended coming to you at Baie to-morrow to tell you the strange news.”
“But tell me, I entreat you, is it true? has my husband really escaped from prison? has he left me in this way?”
“He has escaped, and gone I know not where. Three days ago I visited him to tell him some favorable news regarding himself; he seemed cheerful; spoke much of you, and confidently of the result of the trial. Yesterday it was noised abroad that he had fled from Naples; doubting whether it was not mere rumor, I inquired, and found it true: it astonished me much. Knowing your husband’s determined character, I had been actively engaged in obtaining all the influence I could in his favor. I doubt not, myself, had he awaited his trial, it would have terminated favorably.”
“Gone! gone!” I cried—thinking only of the desertion—“for ever gone! and what is to become of me and the child?”
“Don’t give way to grief, madame; be comforted; you will find numerous friends: those who have known and loved you before your marriage.”