As Maximilian stood uncertain what to do next, but as yet reluctant to abandon the miserable Viscount to his fate, Valentine came to him and, placing her hand on his arm, said: "My husband, it is useless to endeavor to move this unfortunate man in his present condition; his mind is incapable of rational action. Only by care and soothing influence can he be restored to himself. He must be induced to accompany us to some asylum, some institution where he can be treated for his dreadful malady."

"You are right, Valentine, as you always are," answered M. Morrel. "The course you suggest is the only one to be taken at this juncture. But how is Giovanni to be induced to accompany us? Force cannot be employed--we have no legal right to use it--and I greatly fear that the Viscount will not follow us of his own accord, no matter to what solicitations we may resort."

"Trust that to me, Maximilian," rejoined Valentine, sweetly and persuasively. "Remember what I said about a woman's wit and tenderness."

"I remember it, and now, if ever, is the time for the trial of their power, for I have utterly failed. But, surely, Valentine, you do not propose to risk dealing with this poor man whose mind is reduced to chaos and who might, in a sudden access of unaccountable fury, do you harm even before I could interfere?"

"I certainly do propose dealing with him! I am an enchantress, you know, and now you shall witness a further and more convincing proof of the potency of my spells than was shown in bringing your dead hope to life!"

Maximilian was not altogether satisfied with his wife's heroic resolution, but she firmly persisted in it and finally he allowed her to have her way. She quitted his side and approached Giovanni, her fine countenance wearing a bewitching smile as seductive as that of a Scandinavian valkyria ministering at the feast of heroes in the fabled Valhalla.

The guides, who amid their petitions to the Blessed Virgin had steadily watched the singular proceedings of their patrons, were both astounded and horrified when they saw Valentine leave her husband and boldly walk towards the maniac. They redoubled the fervency of their prayers and breathlessly waited for what was about to happen.

The Viscount had not yet observed Valentine. When she came in front of him and paused, still smiling, he saw her for the first time. Dropping his staff, he clasped his hands and gazed at her in an ecstasy of admiration.

"What beautiful, what heavenly vision is this?" he exclaimed, ardently, his voice assuming more of the characteristics of humanity than it had yet displayed.




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