The impetuous Signor strode up and down, clenching his fists, cursing slavery, and sending Fitzgerald to the Devil in a volley of phrases hard enough in their significance, though uttered in soft-flowing Italian.
"Swearing does no good, my friend," said Madame; "besides, there isn't time for it.

Rosabella must be brought away immediately.

Bruteman will be on the alert, you may depend.

She slipped through his fingers once, and he won't trust Fitzgerald again." The Signor cooled down, and proposed to go for her himself.

But that was overruled, in a very kind way, by his prudent wife, who argued that he was not well enough for such an exciting adventure, or to be left without her nursing, when his mind would be such a prey to uneasiness.