The medium said nothing. Formosa got flushed. His eyes sparkled as he answered, in a shaky voice:
'From the spirit.'
'What spirit?' said the doctor jokingly.
'Caracò, the spirit that helps Don Pasqualino,' the Marquis said emphatically.
'Do you believe that, my lord?' Amati retorted, casting on him a scrutinizing glance.
'It is as clear as light,' answered the noble, raising his eyes to heaven ecstatically.
'And you, my lady, do you believe it?' the doctor asked Bianca, examining her face.
She was just going to answer she did not believe, that she was afraid to believe, when a wild look from her father froze the words on her lips. One saw the effort she made to send back a sorrowful cry. Vaguely she waved her hand, and said:
'I know nothing about it.'
The medium cast an oblique glance at the doctor. For the first time an enraged look came over his face and mingled with his mysterious humility. He twisted his neck, as if a hard bone was choking him. He pulled the Marquis's sleeve in an underhand way to get him to go away; but by Amati's words and grin had he found out his utter incredulity, and, like all deluded folk, he felt his faith in the aiding spirit increased doubly, together with a great desire to convince Amati.