Beatrice stopped abruptly, and clasped her hands before her face.
"Now you upbraid me," said the Count, unruffled by her sudden passion, "because I gave you in marriage to a man young and noble?"
"Old in vices and mean of soul! The marriage I forgave you. You had the right, according to the customs of our country, to dispose of my hand. But I forgave you not the consolations that you whispered in the ear of a wretched and insulted wife."
"Pardon me the remark," replied the Count, with a courtly bend of his head, "but those consolations were also conformable to the customs of our country, and I was not aware till now that you had wholly disdained them. And," continued the Count, "you were not so long a wife that the gall of the chain should smart still. You were soon left a widow--free, childless, young, beautiful."
"True, Di Negra was a gambler, and very unlucky; no fault of mine. I could neither keep the cards from his hands, nor advise him how to play them."
"And my own portion? Oh, Giulio, I knew but at his death why you had condemned me to that renegade Genoese. He owed you money, and, against honor, and I believe against law, you had accepted my fortune in discharge of the debt."
"He had no other way to discharge it--a debt of honor must be paid--old stories these. "What matters? Since then my purse has been open to you."
"Yes, not as your sister, but your instrument--your spy! Yes, your purse has been open--with a niggard hand."
"_Un peu de conscience, ma chère_, you are so extravagant. But come, be plain. What would you?"
"That is, you would form some second marriage with one of these rich island lords. _Ma foi_, I respect your ambition."
"It is not so high. I aim but to escape from slavery--to be placed beyond dishonorable temptation. I desire," cried Beatrice with increased emotion, "I desire to re-enter the life of woman."
"Eno'!" said the Count with a visible impatience, "is there anything in the attainment of your object that should render you indifferent to mine? You desire to marry, if I comprehend you right. And to marry, as becomes you, you should bring to your husband not debts, but a dowry. Be it so. I will restore the portion that I saved from the spendthrift clutch of the Genoese--the moment that it is mine to bestow--- the moment that I am husband to my kinsman's heiress. And now, Beatrice, you imply that my former notions revolted your conscience; my present plan should content it; for by this marriage shall our kinsman regain his country, and repossess, at least, half his lands. And if I am not an excellent husband to the demoiselle, it will be her own fault. I have sown my wild oats. _Je suis bon prince_, when I have things a little my own way. It is my hope and my intention, and certainly it will be my interest, to become _digne époux et irréproachable pire de famille_. I speak lightly--'tis my way. I mean seriously. The little girl will be very happy with me, and I shall succeed in soothing all resentment her father may retain. Will you aid me then--yes or no? Aid me, and you shall indeed be free. The magician will release the fair spirit he has bound to his will. Aid me not, _ma chère_, and mark, I do not threaten--I do but warn--aid me not; grant that I become a beggar, and ask yourself what is to become of you--still young, still beautiful, and still penniless? Nay, worse than penniless; you have done me the honor (and here the Count, looking on the table, drew a letter from a portfolio, emblazoned with his arms and coronet), you have done me the honor to consult me as to your debts."