He was about to hasten away. A violent peal at the bell was heard, and almost immediately a young man in the dress of a priest entered the room.
"Thank God! that I find you here, Count Rivero," he cried, "nothing must be done, the disaster is immense, Benedek is totally beaten, the whole army is in wild flight and confusion."
The count was dumb. His dark eyes were raised to heaven with a burning look, deep grief was painted on his features.
"We must act so much the more rapidly and energetically," cried Galotti; "if this news reaches Italy our confederates will be frightened and confused, the enemy will gain courage, and the lukewarm will become foes."
He stretched out his hand to take the cards which Rivero still held.
The count made a movement of refusal.
"How did you gain your information, Abbé Rosti?" he asked quietly.
"It has just been brought from the Hofburg to the Nuncio," replied the abbé. "Unhappily there is no doubt of its truth."
"Then the work of years is lost!" said Count Rivero, in a grave and melancholy voice.
"Let us use the present moment!" cried Galotti, "let us act quickly; then, let what will happen in Germany, we shall at least have restored Italy to her ancient rights, and Austria must be grateful to us if we give her in Italy the influence she has lost in Germany."