The red face of the bullet-headed general grew redder still, but not with anger.
"Signorina," he said, evidently greatly embarrassed, "you humiliate me. You—you do not know what you ask—"
He had led her back to the garden-seat; they had both sat down; he did not notice how her bosom was struggling with emotion.
"You ask me to interfere—to commit an act of injustice—"
"Oh, signore, signore, this is what I ask!" she cried, quite overcome; and she fell at his feet, and put her clasped hands on his knees, and broke into a wild fit of crying; "this is what I ask of you, signore—this is what I beg from
you on my knees—I ask you to give me the life of—of my betrothed!"
She buried her face in her hands; her frame was shaken with her sobs.
"Little daughter," said he, greatly agitated, "rise; come, remain here for a few moments; I wish to speak to your mother—alone. Natalie!"
The elder woman accompanied him a short distance across the lawn; they stood by the fountain.
"By Heaven, I would do anything for the child!" he said, rapidly; "but you see, dear friend, how it is impossible. Look at the injustice of it. If we transferred this duty to another person, what possible excuse could we make to him whom we might choose?"