Castruccio fixed his eye on one of these castles. The forgotten scenes of his youth thronged into his memory, and oppressed him with their numbers and life; the low voice of his mother sounded in his ears; the venerable form of Adimari stood before him, and it seemed to him as if the slender fingers of the infant Euthanasia pressed his hand. He turned suddenly round, and asked: ‘Does she still live there?’—pointing to the castle.

‘Who? The countess of Valperga?’

‘Aye, and her daughter Euthanasia?’ Many years had elapsed since he had pronounced that name; he felt his whole frame thrill to its musical sound.

‘The present countess,’ replied Vanni Mordecastelli, ‘is young and unmarried’—

‘And her name is Euthanasia,’ continued count Ludovico de’ Fondi: ‘she is the daughter of Messer Antonio dei Adimari, who while he lived was one of the leaders of the Guelph party at Florence; and through her mother she possesses the castle and villages of Valperga.’

‘Aye,’ cried a youth, ‘and they say that Ranieri della Faggiuola pretends to her hand. It is not well, that the credulity of a woman, who will listen to the first fine speeches that are addressed to her, should cause so strong a hold as the castle of Valperga to pass into the hands of that insufferable nest of traitors.’

‘You are ignorant of whom you talk,’ said the aged Fondi, ‘when you speak thus lightly of the young countess of Valperga. She is a lady of great prudence, beauty, and learning; and, although for years she has been sought by the first nobles of Italy, she glories in her independence and solitude. She mingles little with the citizens of this town; her friends reside at Florence, where she often passes many months, associating with its first families.’

‘Is she as beautiful, as she is said to be?’ asked young Arrigo Guinigi.

‘Indeed she is lovely to a miracle; but her manners almost make you forget her beauty; they are so winning and graceful. Unfortunately she does not belong to our party, but is as strongly attached to the Pope’s as the countess Matilda of old.’

‘Aye, these women are so easily cajoled by priests.’

‘Nay, Moncello, you will still be in the wrong, if you apply common rules to the conduct of the countess Euthanasia. She is attached to the cause of the freedom of Florence, and not to the power of her Popes. When I visited her on her return to her castle, I found her full of grief at the renewal of the war between these states. She earnestly asked me whether I saw any prospect of peace; “For,” said she, “I am more attached to concord and the alliance of parties, than to any of the factions which distract our poor Italy.” ’——

The conversation then turned on other subjects. Castruccio had listened silently to the praise which the old count Fondi had bestowed on the friend of his childhood; and presently after, taking Arrigo aside, he said: ‘My young friend, you must go on an embassy for me.’

‘To the end of the world, if you desire it, my dear lord’—

‘Nay, this is a shorter journey. You must ride tomorrow morning to the castle of Valperga, and ask permission of the countess that I may visit her. Our families, though of opposite interests, were much allied; and I ought to have sought this interview before.’

On the following day Castruccio waited anxiously for the return of Arrigo. He arrived a little before noon. ‘I have seen her,’ he cried; ‘and, after having seen her, I wonder at the torpor of these Lucchese that they do not all emigrate from their town, to go and surround her castle, and gaze on her all day long. I seem only to live since I have seen her; she is so lovely, so enchantingly kind and gentle. I have heard you