“Where are you going?” said she, with a sharp questioning look.
“I have an engagement to meet some friends—the meeting takes place in the house of a Catholic priest. Are you satisfied, Marietta? or do you still fear that some dangerous rendezvous calls me from you?”
“I fear nothing,” said she, smiling; “you have reassured me.”
“Then, my beloved, I entreat you to command me to go, for if you do not, though I know I ought, I cannot leave you. But, no—first I will see you direct these letters.”
“You shall,” said she, taking a pen and directing them.
Ranuzi took the letters and examined them.
“This simple feminine address is the talisman that protects me and my secret. And this I owe to you, my darling, to you alone. But will you finish your work of mercy? Will you post these letters at once?”
“I will do so, Carlo.”
“Will you swear it?” said he, laughing; “swear it to me by our love.”
“I swear it—swear it by my love.”