It was on an evening of delicious coolness, there so coveted, that a cavalier issued on horseback from the gates of the castle, which was then at the acme of its pride and strength. Numerous retainers stood on either side by the drawbridge their heads bared to the evening sun, until the horseman should have passed, but he went forth unattended; and the men resumed their caps, and swung to the drawbridge, as he urged his horse to a quick pace. It was the lord of that stately castle, the young inheritor of the lands of Visinara. His form, tall and graceful, was bent occasionally to the very neck of his horse, in acknowledgment of the homage that was universally paid him, though he sat his steed proudly, as if conscious that such bearing befitted the descendant of one of Italia's noblest families. In years he had numbered scarcely more than a quarter of a century, and yet on his beautiful features might be traced a shade, which told of perplexity or care.
Turning down a narrow and not much frequented way, which branched off from the main road, a mile or two distant from his residence, he urged his horse to a fast pace, and at length came in view of one of those pretty places, partly mansion, partly cottage, and partly temple, at that period to be seen in Italy; but which we now meet with rarely save in pictures. Fastening the bridle of his charger to a tree, he walked towards the house, and passing down the colonade, which ran along the south side of it, entered one of the rooms through the open window.
A lady, young and beautiful, sat there alone. She had delicate features, and a fair, open countenance, the complexion of which resembled more that of an English than an Italian one, inasmuch as a fine, transparent color was glowing on the cheeks. The expression of her eyes was mild and sweet, and her hair, of a chestnut brown, fell in curls upon her neck, according to the fashion of the times. She started visibly at sight of the count, and her tongue gave utterance to words, but what she apparently knew not. "So you have returned, signor?"
"At last, Gina," was the count's answer, as he threw his arm around her slender waist, and essayed to draw her affectionately towards him.
"Unhand me, Count di Visinara!" she impetuously exclaimed, sliding from his embrace, and standing apart, her whole form heaving with agitation.
He stood irresolute; aghast at this reception from her, who was his early and dearest love. "Are you out of your senses?" was his exclamation.
"No, but I soon shall be. And I have prayed to Heaven that insanity may fall upon me rather than experience the wretchedness of these last few days."
"My love, my love, what mean you?"
"My love! you call me your love, Count di Visinara! Be silent, hypocrite! I know you now. Cajoled that I have been in listening to you so long!"
"Gina!"