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voice made an oasis for her soul in the burning sands of her
existence。 That sentiment could not be measured or estimated by any
other。 Did it not； in fact； comprise all human sentiments； all
heavenly hopes？ La Marana was so resolved not to soil her daughter
with any stain other than that of birth； that she sought to invest her
with social virtues； she even obliged the young father to settle a
handsome patrimony upon the child and to give her his name。 Thus the
girl was not know as Juana Marana； but as Juana di Mancini。
Then； after seven years of joy； and kisses； and intoxicating
happiness； the time came when the poor Marana deprived herself of her
idol。 That Juana might never bow her head under their hereditary
shame； the mother had the courage to renounce her child for her
child's sake； and to seek； not without horrible suffering； for another
mother； another home； other principles to follow； other and saintlier
examples to imitate。 The abdication of a mother is either a revolting
act or a sublime one； in this case； was it not sublime？
At Tarragona a lucky accident threw the Lagounias in her way； under
circumstances which enabled her to recognize the integrity of the
Spaniard and the noble virtue of his wife。 She came to them at a time
when her proposal seemed that of a liberating angel。 The fortune and
honor of the merchant； momentarily compromised； required a prompt and
secret succor。 La Marana made over to the husband the whole sum she
had obtained of the father for Juana's 〃dot；〃 requiring neither
acknowledgment nor interest。 According to her own code of honor； a
contract； a trust； was a thing of the heart； and God its supreme
judge。 After stating the miseries of her position to Dona Lagounia；
she confided her daughter and her daughter's fortune to the fine old
Spanish honor； pure and spotless； which filled the precincts of that
ancient house。 Dona Lagounia had no child； and she was only too happy
to obtain one to nurture。 The mother then parted from her Juana；
convinced that the child's future was safe； and certain of having
found her a mother； a mother who would bring her up as a Mancini； and
not as a Marana。
Leaving her child in the simple modest house of the merchant where the
burgher virtues reigned； where religion and sacred sentiments and
honor filled the air； the poor prostitute； the disinherited mother was
enabled to bear her trial by visions of Juana； virgin； wife； and
mother； a mother throughout her life。 On the threshold of that house
Marana left a tear such as the angels garner up。
Since that day of mourning and hope the mother； drawn by some
invincible presentiment； had thrice returned to see her daughter。 Once
when Juana fell ill with a dangerous complaint：
〃I knew it；〃 she said to Perez when she reached the house。
Asleep； she had seen her Juana dying。 She nursed her and watched her；
until one morning； sure of the girl's convalescence； she kissed her；
still asleep； on the forehead and left her without betraying whom she
was。 A second time the Marana came to the church where Juana made her
first communion。 Simply dressed； concealing herself behind a column；
the exiled mother recognized herself in her daughter such as she once
had been； pure as the snow fresh…fallen on the Alps。 A courtesan even
in maternity； the Marana felt in the depths of her soul a jealous
sentiment； stronger for the moment than that of love； and she left the
church； incapable of resisting any longer the desire to kill Dona
Lagounia； as she sat there； with radiant face； too much the mother of
her child。 A third and last meeting had taken place between mother and
daughter in the streets of Milan； to which city the merchant and his
wife had paid a visit。 The Marana drove through the Corso in all the
splendor of a sovereign； she passed her daughter like a flash of
lightning and was not recognized。 Horrible anguish！ To this Marana；
surfeited with kisses； one was lacking； a single one； for which she
would have bartered all the others： the joyous； girlish kiss of a
daughter to a mother； an honored mother； a mother in whom shone all
the domestic virtues。 Juana living was dead to her。 One thought
revived the soul of the courtesana precious thought！ Juana was
henceforth safe。 She might be the humblest of women； but at least she
was not what her mother wasan infamous courtesan。
The merchant and his wife had fulfilled their trust with scrupulous
integrity。 Juana's fortune； managed by them； had increased tenfold。
Perez de Lagounia； now the richest merchant in the provinces； felt for
the young girl a sentiment that was semi…superstitious。 Her money had
preserved his ancient house from dishonorable ruin； and the presence
of so precious a treasure had brought him untold prosperity。 His wife；
a heart of gold； and full of delicacy； had made the child religious；
and as pure as she was beautiful。 Juana might well become the wife of
either a great seigneur or a wealthy merchant； she lacked no virtue
necessary to the highest destiny。 Perez had intended taking her to
Madrid and marrying her to some grandee； but the events of the present
war delayed the fulfilment of this project。
〃I don't know where the Marana now is；〃 said Perez； ending the above
history； 〃but in whatever quarter of the world she may be living； when
she hears of the occupation of our province by your armies； and of the
siege of Tarragona； she will assuredly set out at once to come here
and see to her daughter's safety。〃
CHAPTER II
AUCTION
The foregoing narrative changed the intentions of the Italian captain；
no longer did he think of making a Marchesa di Montefiore of Juana di
Mancini。 He recognized the blood of the Maranas in the glance the girl
had given from behind the blinds； in the trick she had just played to
satisfy her curiosity； and also in the parting look she had cast upon
him。 The libertine wanted a virtuous woman for a wife。
The adventure was full of danger； but danger of a kind that never
daunts the least courageous man； for love and pleasure followed it。
The apprentice sleeping in the shop； the cook bivouacking in the
kitchen； Perez and his wife sleeping； no doubt； the wakeful sleep of
the aged； the echoing sonority of the old mansion； the close
surveillance of the girl in the day…time；all these things were
obstacles； and made success a thing well…nigh impossible。 But
Montefiore had in his favor against all impossibilities the blood of
the Maranas which gushed in the heart of that inquisitive girl；
Italian by birth； Spanish in principles； virgin indeed； but impatient
to love。 Passion； the girl； and Montefiore were ready and able to defy
the whole universe。
Montefiore； impelled as much by the instinct of a man of gallantry as
by those vague hopes which cannot be explained； and to which we give
the name of presentiments （a word of astonishing verbal accuracy）；
Montefiore spent the first hours of the night at his window；
endeavoring to look below him to the secret apartment where；
undoubtedly； the merchant and his wife had hidden the love and
joyfulness of their old age。 The ware…room of the 〃entresol〃 separated
him from the rooms on the ground…floor。 The captain therefore could
not have recourse to noises significantly made from one floor to the
other； an artificial language which all lovers know well how to
create。 But chance； or it may have been the young girl herself； came
to his assistance。 At the moment when he stationed himself at his
window； he saw； on the black wall of the courtyard； a circle of light；
in the centre of which the silhouette of Juana was clearly defined；
the consecutive movement of the arms； and the attitude； gave evidence
that she was arranging her hair for the night。
〃Is she alone？〃 Montefiore asked himself； 〃could I； without danger；
lower a letter filled with coin and strike it against that circular
window in her hiding…place？〃
At once he wrote a note； the note of a man exiled by his family to
Elba； the note of a degraded marquis now a mere captain of equipment。
Then he made a cord of whatever he could find that was capable of
being turned into string； filled the note with a few silver crowns；
and lowered it in the deepest silence to the centre of that spherical
gleam。
〃The shadows will show if her mother or the servant is with her；〃
thought Montefiore。 〃If she is not alone； I can pull up the string at
once。〃
But； after succeeding with infinite trouble in striking the glass； a
single form； the little figure of Juana； appeared upon the wall。 The
young girl opened her window cautiously； saw the note； took it； and
stood before the window while she read it。 In it； Montefiore had given
his name and asked for an interview； offering； after the style of the
old romances； his heart and hand to the Signorina Juana di Mancinia
common trick； the success of which is nearly always certain。 At
Juan