"Nay - what is my aunt in comparison with your safety," said she,
looking up tenderly in his face.
There was something in her tone and manner that showed she really was
Thinking more of her husband's safety at that moment than of her own;
and being recently married, and a match of pure affection, too, it is
very possible that she was. At least her husband thought so. Indeed,
any one who has heard the sweet, musical tone of a Venetian voice, and
the melting tenderness of a Venetian phrase, and felt the soft witchery
of a Venetian eye, would not wonder at the husband's believing whatever
they professed.
He clasped the white hand that had been laid within his, put his arm
round her slender waist, and drawing her fondly to his bosom - "This
night at least," said he, "we'll pass at Terracina."
Crack! crack! crack! crack! crack!
Another apparition of the road attracted the attention of mine host and
his guests. From the road across the Pontine marshes, a carriage drawn
by half a dozen horses, came driving at a furious pace - the postillions
smacking their whips like mad, as is the case when conscious of the
greatness or the munificence of their fare.
