"She is a good patriot." "Are you one ?" Barto asked.
"Certainly I am." "Then I shall have to suspect you, for the good of your country." Luigi could not see the deduction.

He was incapable of guessing that it might apply forcibly to Vittoria, who had undertaken a grave, perilous, and imminent work.

Nothing but the spontaneous desire to elude the pursuit of a questioner had at first instigated his baffling of Barto Rizzo, until, fearing the dark square man himself, he feared him dimly for Vittoria's sake; he could not have said why.

She was a good patriot: wherefore the reason for wishing to know more of her?
Barto Rizzo had compelled him at last to furnish a narrative of the events of that day on the Motterone, and, finding himself at sea, Luigi struck out boldly and swam as well as he could.

Barto disentangled one succinct thread of incidents: Vittoria had been commissioned by the Chief to sing on the night of the Fifteenth; she had subsequently, without speaking to any of the English party, or revealing her features "keeping them beautifully hidden," Luigi said, with unaccountable enthusiasm--written a warning to them that they were to avoid Milan.