BATTISTA.

This way--this way--dear lady.

EMILIA (out of breath).

Oh! I thank you, my friend--I thank you. But, Heavens! Where am I? Quite alone, too! Where are my mother, and the Count? They are surely coming? Are they not close behind me?

BATTISTA.

I suppose so.

EMILIA.

You suppose so? Are you not certain? Have you not seen them? Were not pistols fired behind us?

BATTISTA.

Pistols? Was it so?