Anger
could not dwell together with her idea in my soul.
"Oh, Bianca," exclaimed I, in anguish, "could I have dreamt of this;
could I have suspected you would have been false to me?"
She raised her face all streaming with tears, all disordered with
emotion, and gave me one appealing look - "False to you! - they told me
you were dead!"
"What," said I, "in spite of our constant correspondence?"
She gazed wildly at me - "correspondence! - what correspondence?"
"Have you not repeatedly received and replied to my letters?"
She clasped her hands with solemnity and fervor - "As I hope for mercy,
never!"
A horrible surmise shot through my brain - "Who told you I was dead?"
"It was reported that the ship in which you embarked for Naples
perished at sea."
"But who told you the report?"
She paused for an instant, and trembled -
"Filippo!"
"May the God of heaven curse him!" cried I, extending my clinched fists
aloft.
"Oh do not curse him - do not curse him!" exclaimed she - "He is - he is
- my husband!"
This was all that was wanting to unfold the perfidy that had been
practised upon me. My blood boiled like liquid fire in my veins. I
gasped with rage too great for utterance. I remained for a time
bewildered by the whirl of horrible thoughts that rushed through my
mind. The poor victim of deception before me thought it was with her I
was incensed.
