"Not at all. It is a physical malady."

"May one inquire how it attacks the patient?"
asked the Earl, incredulously.

"Some are suddenly stricken down, as if by
a coup de soleil. Some fade slowly away. In
either case, it is the inexpressible longing, for
which there is no possible cure save
Switzerland."

"And supposing that your invalid cannot
get away—what then?"

"I fear he would die."

The Earl laughed aloud.

"And I fear he would do nothing of the
kind," said he. " Depend on it, Trefalden, this
is one of those pretty fictions that everybody
believes, and nobody can prove."

"My dear Gervase," said Lady Castletowers,
passing the little group as she returned to the
house, " Signor Colonna is waiting to speak to
you."

Colouna was leaning over the balustrade at
the further end of the terrace, reading a letter.
He looked up as the Earl approached, and said,
eagerly,

"A despatch from Baldiserotti! Garibaldi
has sailed from Genoa in the Piemonte, and
Bixio in the Lombardo. The sword is drawn
at last, and the scabbard thrown away!"

The Earl's face flushed with excitement.

"This is great news," said he. " When did
it come?"

"With the other letters; but I waited to tell
it to you when your mother was not present."

"Does Vaughan know?"

"Not yet. He went to his room when he
left the breakfast-table, and I have not seen
him since."

"What is the strength of the expedition?"

"One thousand and sixty-seven."

"No more?"

"Thousands more; but they have at present
no means of transport. This is but an
advanced guard of tried men; chiefly old
Cacciatori. Genoa is full of volunteers, all eager
to embark."

"I would give ten years from my life to be
among them," said Castletowers, earnestly.

The Italian laid his hand caressingly upon
the young man's arm.

"Pazienza, caro," he replied. " You do good
service here. Come with me to my room. There
is work for us this morning."

The Earl glanced towards Olimpia and Saxon;
opened his lips, as if to speak; checked
himself, and followed somewhat reluctantly.

CHAPTER XXXIX. A BROKEN PROMISE.

IT must be conceded that Miss Colonna had
not made the most of her opportunities. She
had not actually withdrawn from the game;
but she had failed to follow up her first great
move so closely as a less reluctant player might
have done. And yet she meant to act this part
which she had undertaken. She knew that, if
she did so, it must be at the sacrifice of her
own peace, of her own womanly self-respect.
She was quite aware, too, that it involved a
cruel injustice to Saxon Trefalden. But with
her, as with all enthusiasts, the greater duty
included the less; and she believed that,
although it would be morally wrong to do these
things for any other end, it would be practically
right to do them for Italy.

If she could not bring herself to lead this
generous heart astray without a struggle—if
she pitied the lad's fate, and loathed her own,
and shrunk from the path that she was pledged
to tread—she did so by reason of the finer part
of her nature, but contrary to her convictions
of duty. For, to her, Italy was duty; and
when her instinctive sense of right stepped in,
as it had stepped in now, she blamed herself
bitterly.

But this morning's post had brought matters
to a crisis. Her father's face, as he handed
her the despatch across the breakfast-table, told
her that; and she knew that if she was ever to
act decisively, she must act so now. When,
therefore, she found herself alone with Saxon,
on the terrace, she scarcely paused to think how
she should begin, but plunged at once into her
task.

"You must not think we love our country
less passionately than the Swiss, Mr. Trefalden,"
she said, quickly. " It needs no mal de pays
to prove the heart of a people; and when you
know us better, you will, I am sure, be one of
the first to acknowledge it. In the mean while,
I cannot be happy till I convince you."

"I am glad you think me worth the trouble
of convincing," replied Saxon.

"How should I not? You are a patriot,,
and a republican."

"That I am, heart and soul!" said Saxon,
with sparkling eyes.

"We ought to have many sympathies in
common."

"Why, so we have. The love of country,
and the love of liberty are sympathies in
common."

"They should be," replied Olimpia; "but,
alas! between prosperity and adversity there
can be little real fellowship. Yours, Mr.
Trefalden, is the happiest country in Europe, and
mine is the most miserable."

"I wish yours were not so," said Saxon.

"Wish, instead, that it may not remain so!
Wish that women's tears and brave men's blood
may not be shed in vain; nor a whole people be
trodden back into slavery for want of a little
timely help in the moment of their utmost
need!"

"What do you mean?" said Saxon, catching
something of her excitement, without knowing
why or wherefore.

"I mean that the work to which my father's
whole life has been given is at last begun. You
know—all the world knows—that Sicily is in
arms; but you have not yet been told that
an army of liberation is assembling in the
north."

"In the north? Then the King of
Sardinia....."