“These are mere hallucinations,” he kept on saying. “The latest new face I have come across on this journey has fixed itself in my brain and is now haunting my fevered thoughts like a phantasm. It could just as well have been any other person whose image tortured my insomnia in the same way.”

The early morning whitened the horizon and Karol arose so as to dress slowly before waking his friend; for he felt extremely weak and more than once he was obliged to sit down. When Salvator, observing the heightened colour of his cheeks and the occasional convulsive shiver that shook him asked if he was ill, he denied it, determined as he was that nothing should keep him here. The house was already astir, they had to cross the ground floor to reach the garden and the lakeside where they hoped to find a fishing boat. Just as they were setting foot outside, they found themselves face to face with Madame Floriani.

“Where are you going so quickly?” she asked, taking each of them by the hand. “They are putting the horses to my carriage and Celio, who drives delightfully, is looking forward greatly to being your coachman as far as Iseo. I don’t wish you to cross the lake at this time of the day. There is still a cool little mist which is very unhealthy, not so much” for you, Salvator, as for your friend, who is not very well. No, you are certainly not well, Monsieur de Roswald,” she went on, taking Karol’s hand again and holding it between both hers with the simplicity of maternal instinct. “I was struck a moment ago by the heat of your hand and I am afraid you are slightly feverish. The nights and mornings are cold here. Come in, come in, I insist While you are taking your chocolate, the coach will be ready, you will settle in it comfortably, and at Iseo you will meet the first rays of the sun, which will dispel the evil influence of the lake.”

“It is true, then, dear siren, that your mirror has a somewhat baleful influence?” said Salvator, allowing himself to be persuaded to return to the house. “My friend was saying only yesterday that he was conscious of it, but I did not believe it”

“If by mirror you mean the lake, dear Ulysses,” replied Lucrezia, laughing, “may I tell you that it is like every other lake and when one is not born on its shores, one must mistrust it a little. But I do not like the dryness of this hand,” said she, examining Karol’s pulse. “This little hand, for it is a woman’s hand … Che manina!” she exclaimed, turning to Salvator artlessly. “But take care; your friend is not well. I know what I am talking about; my children have had no other doctor but me.”

Salvator too wished to examine the prince’s pulse; but the latter pretended to be a little annoyed by this anxiety. Abruptly he pulled away from the count the hand which he had tremblingly abandoned to Madame Floriani “Please, my good Salvator,” said he, “do not try to persuade me that I am ill and do not remind me too much that I am never in good health. I slept rather badly, I am a little agitated, that’s all. The movement of the carriage will restore me. The signora is too kind,” he added, somewhat reluctantly and dryly, as if to say “I should be much obliged to you if you allowed me to leave as quickly as possible.”

Madame Floriani was struck by his tone; she looked at him in surprise and thought that the brevity of his speech was another indication of his fever. He was indeed suffering from a high degree of feverishness now, but Lucrezia in her simplicity was far from imagining that the seat of his disease was in his soul and that she was its cause.

A collation was served. While Salvator was eating with his usual hearty appetite, Karol was reluctantly having some coffee. Nothing could be more disagreeable to him at that moment, for he never took it But he felt so close to fainting that he insisted on giving himself some artificial strength so as to be able to depart without betraying his deep discomfort.

Indeed he thought he felt better after taking this stimulant, and the sight of Salvator losing all sense of time while overwhelming Madame Floriani with endless compliments made him keenly impatient In fact he was hard put to it not to interrupt him with spiteful words. At last the coach rolled to a halt on the gravel outside the house and the handsome Celio, leaping up with pleasure, seized the reins of two pretty little Corsican horses which were drawing a light carriage. An attentive faithful servant was sitting on the seat by his side.

Just as he was leaving Lucrezia, Count Albani, who truly loved her, felt a regret and an upsurge of affection which were translated into expansive and exaggerated caresses, as was his habit. After begging her forgiveness a thousand times in a low voice, he wrenched himself away from an emotion which, against his will, reminded him of the wrongs he had done her, for he took remarkable pleasure in kissing the cheeks, the soft hands and the velvety neck of his beautiful friend. She, without prudishness, yet without coquetry, tolerated these voluptuous and tender farewells, possibly with too much kindness and amusement for the liking of Karol, who at that moment felt that he hated her. So as not to see their final embrace which was almost passionate as far as his friend was concerned, he flung himself back into the furthest part of the carriage and averted his eyes.