"
It was young Lorenzo Loredan, the lover whom I had superseded.
My heart was heavy for him at the time, but after all it is every
man for himself in love, and if one fails in the game it is some
consolation to lose to one who can be a graceful and considerate
winner.
I was about to point this out to him, but at the first word I
uttered he gave a shout of astonishment, and, rushing out, he
seized the lamp which hung in the corridor and flashed it in my
face.
"It is you, you villain!" he cried. "You French coxcomb. You
shall pay me for the wrong which you have done me."
But the next instant he saw the pallor of my face and the blood
which was still pouring from my head.
"What is this?" he asked. "How come you to have lost your ear?"
I shook off my weakness, and pressing my handkerchief to my wound
I rose from my couch, the debonair colonel of Hussars.
"My injury, sir, is nothing. With your permission we will not
allude to a matter so trifling and so personal."
But Lucia had burst through from her cell and was pouring out the
whole story while she clasped Lorenzo's arm.
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