Really compassionating her in her fatigue, the man now said:
‘If you will be satisfied with that much, I can give you a room for a couple of hours; but no more.’
She was fain to be satisfied with that, as she could get no more, and the host showed her into her husband’s room, which he would not want till ‘an hour of night.’
By accident, however, the Count came in that night an hour earlier, and very much surprised he was to find a lady in his room. The Countess, equally surprised to see a stranger enter, pulled her veil over her face, so that they did not recognise each other.
‘I am sorry to disturb you, madam, but this room, I must inform you, I have engaged,’ said the count; but sorrow had so altered his voice that the countess did not know it again.
‘I hope you will spare me,’ replied the Countess. ‘They gave me this room to rest in for two hours, and I have come so long a way that I really need the rest.’
‘I can hardly believe that a lady of gentle condition can have come a very long way, all alone and on foot, for there is no carriage in the yard; so I can only consider this a frivolous pretext,’ replied the Count, for sorrow had embittered him.
‘Indeed it is too true though,’ continued the Countess. ‘I came all the way from such a place (and she named his own town) without stopping for one moment’s rest.’
‘Indeed!’ said the Count, his interest roused at the mention of his own town; ‘and pray what need had you to use such haste to get away from that good town?’
‘I had no need to haste to leave the place,’ replied the Countess, hurt at the implied suspicion that she was running away for shame. ‘I hasted to arrive at another place.’