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week ago。 I hoped to keep him out of sight in this corner； the only
spot in the house where he could be safe。〃
〃If I can be useful to you； employ me；〃 said Ginevra。 〃I know the
Marechal de Feltre。〃
〃Well； we'll see；〃 replied the painter。
This conversation lasted too long not to be noticed by all the other
girls。 Servin left Ginevra； went round once more to each easel； and
gave such long lessons that he was still there at the hour when the
pupils were in the habit of leaving。
〃You are forgetting your bag； Mademoiselle Thirion；〃 said the
professor； running after the girl； who was now condescending to the
work of a spy to satisfy her jealousy。
The baffled pupil returned for the bag； expressing surprise at her
carelessness； but this act of Servin's was to her fresh proof of the
existence of a mystery； the importance of which was evident。 She now
ran noisily down the staircase； and slammed the door which opened into
the Servins' apartment； to give an impression that she had gone； then
she softly returned and stationed herself outside the door of the
studio。
CHAPTER III
LABEDOYERE'S FRIEND
When the painter and Ginevra thought themselves alone； Servin rapped
in a peculiar manner on the door of the dark garret； which turned at
once on its rusty and creaking hinges。 Ginevra then saw a tall and
well…made young man； whose Imperial uniform set her heart to beating。
The officer had one arm in a sling； and the pallor of his face
revealed sharp suffering。 Seeing an unknown woman； he recoiled。
Amelie； who was unable to look into the room； the door being closed；
was afraid to stay longer； she was satisfied with having heard the
opening of the garret door； and departed noiselessly。
〃Fear nothing；〃 said the painter to the officer。 〃Mademoiselle is the
daughter of a most faithful friend of the Emperor； the Baron di
Piombo。〃
The young soldier retained no doubts as to Ginevra's patriotism as
soon as he saw her。
〃You are wounded；〃 she said。
〃Oh！ it is nothing； mademoiselle；〃 he replied； 〃the wound is healing。〃
Just at this moment the loud cries of the vendors of newspapers came
up from the street： 〃Condemned to death！〃 They all trembled； and the
soldier was the first to hear a name that turned him pale。
〃Labedoyere！〃 he cried； falling on a stool。
They looked at each other in silence。 Drops gathered on the livid
forehead of the young man； he seized the black tufts of his hair in
one hand with a gesture of despair； and rested his elbow on Ginevra's
easel。
〃After all；〃 he said； rising abruptly； 〃Labedoyere and I knew what we
were doing。 We were certain of the fate that awaited us； whether from
triumph or defeat。 He dies for the Cause； and here am I； hiding
myself！〃
He rushed toward the door of the studio； but； quicker than he； Ginevra
reached it； and barred his way。
〃Can you restore the Emperor？〃 she said。 〃Do you expect to raise that
giant who could not maintain himself？〃
〃But what can I do？〃 said the young man； addressing the two friends
whom chance had sent to him。 〃I have not a relation in the world。
Labedoyere was my protector and my friend； without him； I am alone。
To…morrow I myself may be condemned； my only fortune was my pay。 I
spent my last penny to come here and try to snatch Labedoyere from his
fate； death is； therefore； a necessity for me。 When a man decides to
die he ought to know how to sell his life to the executioner。 I was
thinking just now that the life of an honest man is worth that of two
traitors； and the blow of a dagger well placed may give immortality。〃
This spasm of despair alarmed the painter； and even Ginevra； whose own
nature comprehended that of the young man。 She admired his handsome
face and his delightful voice； the sweetness of which was scarcely
lessened by its tones of fury。 Then； all of a sudden； she poured a
balm upon the wounds of the unfortunate man：
〃Monsieur；〃 she said； 〃as for your pecuniary distress； permit me to
offer you my savings。 My father is rich； I am his only child； he loves
me； and I am sure he will never blame me。 Have no scruple in accepting
my offer； our property is derived from the Emperor； we do not own a
penny that is not the result of his munificence。 Is it not gratitude
to him to assist his faithful soldiers？ Take the sums you need as
indifferently as I offer them。 It is only money！〃 she added； in a tone
of contempt。 〃Now； as for friends；those you shall have。〃
She raised her head proudly； and her eyes shone with dazzling
brilliancy。
〃The head which falls to…morrow before a dozen muskets will save
yours；〃 she went on。 〃Wait till the storm is over； you can then escape
and take service in foreign countries if you are not forgotten here；
or in the French army； if you are。〃
In the comfort that women give there is always a delicacy which has
something maternal； foreseeing； and complete about it。 But when the
words of hope and peace are said with grace of gesture and that
eloquence of tone which comes from the heart； and when； above all； the
benefactress is beautiful； a young man does not resist。 The prisoner
breathed in love through all his senses。 A rosy tinge colored his
white cheeks； his eyes lost something of the sadness that dulled them；
and he said； in a peculiar tone of voice：
〃You are an angle of goodness But Labedoyere！〃 he added。 〃Oh；
Labedoyere！〃
At this cry they all three looked at one another in silence； each
comprehending the others' thoughts。 No longer friends of twenty
minutes only； they were friends of twenty years。
〃Dear friend；〃 said Servin； 〃can you save him？〃
〃I can avenge him。〃
Ginevra quivered。 Though the stranger was handsome； his appearance had
not influenced her； the soft pity in a woman's heart for miseries that
are not ignoble had stifled in Ginevra all other emotions； but to hear
a cry of vengeance； to find in that proscribed being an Italian soul；
devotion to Napoleon； Corsican generosity！ah！ that was； indeed； too
much for her。 She looked at the officer with a respectful emotion
which shook his heart。 For the first time in her life a man had caused
her a keen emotion。 She now； like other women； put the soul of the
stranger on a par with the noble beauty of his features and the happy
proportions of his figure； which she admired as an artist。 Led by
accidental curiosity to pity； from pity to a powerful interest； she
came； through that interest； to such profound sensations that she felt
she was in danger if she stayed there longer。
〃Until to…morrow； then；〃 she said； giving the officer a gentle smile
by way of a parting consolation。
Seeing that smile； which threw a new light on Ginevra's features； the
stranger forgot all else for an instant。
〃To…morrow；〃 he said； sadly； 〃but to…morrow； Labedoyere〃
Ginevra turned； put a finger on her lips； and looked at him； as if to
say： 〃Be calm； be prudent。〃
And the young man cried out in his own language：
〃Ah！ Dio！ che non vorrei vivere dopo averla veduta？who would not
wish to live after seeing her？〃
The peculiar accent with which he pronounced the words made Ginevra
quiver。
〃Are you Corsican？〃 she cried； returning toward him with a beating
heart。
〃I was born in Corsica；〃 he replied； 〃but I was brought； while very
young； to Genoa； and as soon as I was old enough for military service
I enlisted。〃
The beauty of the young man； the mighty charm lent to him by his
attachment to the Emperor； his wound； his misfortunes； his danger； all
disappeared to Ginevra's mind； or； rather； all were blended in one
sentiment；a new and delightful sentiment。 This persecuted man was a
child of Corsica； he spoke its cherished language！ She stood； for a
moment； motionless； held by a magical sensation； before her eyes was a
living picture； to which all human sentiments； united by chance； gave
vivid colors。 By Servin's invitation； the officer had seated himself
on a divan； and the painter； after removing the sling which supported
the arm of his guest； was undoing the bandages in order to dress the
wound。 Ginevra shuddered when she saw the long； broad gash made by the
blade of a sabre on the young man's forearm； and a moan escaped her。
The stranger raised his head and smiled to her。 There was something
touching which went to the soul； in the care with which Servin lifted
the lint and touched the lacerated flesh； while the face of the
wounded man； though pale and sickly； expressed； as he looked at the
girl； more pleasure than suffering。 An artist would have admired；
involuntarily； this opposition of sentiments； together with the
contrasts produced by the whiteness of the linen and the bared arm to
the red and blue uniform of the officer。
At this moment a soft half…light pervaded the studio； but a parting
ray of the evening sunlight suddenly illuminated the spot where the