"I obtained possession for a few days of the emerald lost by the Count, and which had been sent by his enemies to the Duke of Palma. At a great cost I caused a similar one to be made by one of the most skilful workmen of Naples. The copy will be easily recognized: _that is what I wish_. I have substituted it for the original, and placed it myself in the minister's jewel case, the key of which he had given to me to take an antique _cameo_, the design of which I wished. The false ring will be given to the Count, instead of the true one, which is in the _coffret_ I have placed by you. Go to Monte-Leone's house, during the night after your release. I am too closely watched now, to dare go thither myself. Give this ring to the old servant, tell him to deliver it to the judges, but not till the trial. The enemies of whom I spoke will be overcome by this pretended proof of their imposition, and the safety of the Count will be sure. I have told you all. Now, Taddeo, excuse me for having pained you by my disclosure. Excuse me for having unfolded all my heart to you, excuse me for having permitted you to read my most secret sentiments. Your love deserves something better than mine; but if it inspire you with any pity for me, rescue the Count from the executioner, and know that to save Monte-Leone is to save La Felina."
"What a woman!" said the Count, as he let fall the letter; "what passion and devotion!"
"Ah!" said Taddeo, who looked anxiously into the eyes of the Count, to divine the effect produced by the singer's letter, "you see her devotion pleases and touches you:--that you love her----"
"Taddeo," said the Count, with great emotion, "that woman was my providence, and defended me against my accusers.... She saved my life.... It is a noble heart that thus hopelessly devotes itself. Let me give her all my gratitude.... A poor and sterile recompense for such devotion. The other sentiments of my heart you shall also know!"
Rising up with the dignified and lofty air of a noble, he said:
"Taddeo Rovero, Count Monte-Leone asks of you the hand of Aminta Rovero, your sister."
Just then a painful exclamation was heard in the next room. Monte-Leone seized his dagger and rushed to the door. He threw it open, and a strange spectacle presented itself to him. A woman, pale and trembling, leaned on the arm of an old man. Her eyes, fixed and tearful, seemed to look without seeing, and her ears appeared to catch no sound. It was La Felina. She was sustained by old Giacomo.