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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4c96b87 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66156 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66156) diff --git a/old/66156-0.txt b/old/66156-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 65e46d7..0000000 --- a/old/66156-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8740 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Suspense, by Joseph Conrad - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Suspense - A Napoleonic Novel - -Author: Joseph Conrad - -Release Date: August 27, 2021 [eBook #66156] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues at Free Literature (Images generously - made available by Hathi Trust Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SUSPENSE *** - - -SUSPENSE - -A NAPOLEONIC NOVEL - - - - -BY - -JOSEPH CONRAD - - - - -GARDEN CITY NEW YORK - -DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY - -1925 - - - - -CONTENTS -PART I -PART II -PART III -PART IV - - - - -PART I - - - - -SUSPENSE - - -I - - -A deep red glow flushed the fronts of marble palaces piled up on the -slope of an arid mountain whose barren ridge traced high on the -darkening sky a ghostly and glimmering outline. The winter sun was -setting over the Gulf of Genoa. Behind the massive shore the sky to the -east was like darkening glass. The open water too had a glassy look with -a purple sheen in which the evening light lingered as if clinging to the -water. The sails of, a few becalmed feluccas looked rosy and cheerful, -motionless in the gathering gloom. Their heads were all pointing towards -the superb city. Within the long jetty with the squat round tower at the -end, the water of the harbour had turned black. A bigger vessel with -square sails, issuing from it and arrested by the sudden descent of the -calm, faced the red disc of the sun. Her ensign hung down and its -colours were not to be made out; but a lank man in a shabby sailor's -jacket and wearing a strange cap with a tassel, who lounged with both -his arms thrown over the black breech of an enormous piece of ordnance -that with three of its monstrous fellows squatted on the platform of the -tower, seemed to have no doubt of her nationality; for to the question -of a young civilian in a long coat and Hessian boots and with an -ingenuous young countenance above the folds of a white neckcloth he -answered curtly, taking a short pipe out of his mouth but not turning -his head. - -"She's Elban." - -He replaced his pipe and preserved an unsociable air. The elegant young -man with the pleasant countenance, (who was Cosmo, the son of Sir -Charles Latham of Latham Hall, Yorkshire), repeated under his breath, -"Elban," and remained wrapped up in still contemplation of the becalmed -ship with her undistinguishable flag. - -It was not till the sun had sunk beneath the waters of the Mediterranean -and the undistinguishable flag had been hauled down on board the -motionless ship that he stirred and turned his eyes towards the harbour. -The nearest prominent object in it was the imposing shape of an English -line-of-battle ship moored on the west side not far from the quay. Her -tall spars overtopped the roofs of the houses and the English ensign at -her flagstaff had been just hauled down and replaced by a lantern that -looked strange in the clear twilight. The forms of shipping crowded -towards the head of the harbour were merging into one another. Cosmo let -his eyes wander over the circular platform of the tower. The man leaning -over the gun went on smoking with indifference. - -"Are you the guardian of this tower?" asked the young man. - -The other gave him a sidelong glance and made answer without changing -his attitude and more as if speaking to himself: - -"This is now an unguarded spot. The wars are over." - -"Do they close the door at the bottom of this tower at night?" enquired -Cosmo. - -"That is a matter worth consideration especially for those like you, for -instance, who have a soft bed to go to for the night." - -The young than put his head on one side and looked at his interlocutor -with a faint smile. - -"You don't seem to care," he said. "So I conclude I need not. As long as -you are content to stay here I am safe enough. I followed you up the -stairs, you know." The man with the pipe stood up abruptly. "You -followed me here? Why did you do that, in the name of all the saints?" - -The young man laughed as if at a good joke. "Because you were walking in -front of me. There was nobody else in view near the Mole. Suddenly you -disappeared. Then I saw that the door at the bottom of the tower was -open and I walked up the stairs on to this platform. And I would have -been very surprised if I hadn't found you here." - -The man in the strange cap ornamented with a tassel had taken his pipe -out of his mouth to listen. "That was all?" - -"Yes, that was all." - -"Nobody but an Englishman would behave like that," commented the other -to himself, a slight appearance of apprehension passing over his -features. "You are an eccentric people." - -"I don't see anything eccentric in what I've done. I simply wanted to -walk out of the town. The Mole was as good as any other part. It is very -pleasant here." - -A slight breeze touched the two men's faces, while they stood silent, -looking at each other. "I am but an idle traveller," said Cosmo easily. -"I arrived this morning by land. I am glad I had the idea to come out -here to behold your town glowing in the sunset and to get a sight of a -vessel belonging to Elba. There can't be very many of them. But you, my -friend . . ." - -"I have as much right to idle away my time here as any English -traveller," interrupted the man hastily. - -"It is very pleasant here," repeated the young traveller, staring into -the dusk which had invaded the platform of the tower. - -"Pleasant?" repeated the other. "Yes, perhaps. The last time I was on -this platform I was only ten years old. A solid round shot was spinning -and rattling all over the stone floor. It made a wondrous disturbance -and seemed a living thing full of fury." - -"A solid shot!" exclaimed Cosmo, looking all over the smooth flagstones -as if expecting to see the traces of that visitation. "Where did it come -from?" - -"It came from an English brig belonging to Milord Keith's Squadron. She -stood in quite close and opened fire on us. . . . Heaven only knows why. -The audacity of your people! A single shot from one of those big -fellows," he continued, slapping the enormous bulging breech of the gun -by his side, "would have been enough to sink her like a stone." - -"I can well believe it. But the fearlessness of our seamen has ceased to -astonish the world long ago," murmured the young traveller. - -"There are plenty of fearless people in the world, but luck is even -better than courage. The brig sailed away unscathed. Yes, luck is even -better than courage. Surer than wisdom and stronger than justice. Luck -is a great thing. It is the only thing worth having on one's side. And -you people have always had it. Yes, signore, you belong to a lucky -nation or else you would not be standing here on this platform looking -across the water in the direction of that crumb of land that is the last -refuge of your greatest enemy." - -Cosmo leaned over the stone parapet near the embrasure of the gun on the -other side of which the man with the short pipe in his hand made a -vaguely emphatic gesture: "I wonder what thoughts pass through your -head," he went on in a quiet detached tone. "Or perhaps you are too -young yet to have many thoughts in your head. Excuse my liberty, but I -have always heard that one may be frank in speech with an Englishman; -and by your speech there can be no doubt of you being of that nation." - -"I can assure you I have no thoughts of hatred. . . . Look, the Elban -ship is getting farther away. Or is it only the darkness that makes her -seem so?" - -"The night air is heavy. There is more wind on the water than up here, -where we stand; but I don't think she has moved away. You are interested -in that Elban ship, signore." - -"There is a fascination now about everything connected with that -island," confessed the ingenuous traveller. "You have just said that I -was too young to think. You don't seem so very much older than myself. -I wonder what thoughts you may have." - -"The thoughts of a common man, thoughts that could be of no interest to -an English milord," answered the other, in a grimly deprecatory tone. - -"Do you think that all Englishmen are lords?" asked Cosmo, with a laugh. - -"I didn't think. I went by your appearance. I remember hearing an old -man once say that you were a lordly nation." - -"Really!" exclaimed the young man and laughed again in a low, pleasant -note. "I remember hearing of an old man who called us a nation of -traders." - -"_Nazione di mercante_," repeated the man slowly. "Well, that may be -true too. Different men, different wisdoms." - -"This didn't occur to me," said Cosmo, seating himself with a little -spring on the stone parapet of the tower. He rested one foot on the -massive gun-carriage and fixed his clear eyes on the dark red streak on -the western sky left by the retreating sun like a long gash inflicted on -the suffering body of the universe. . . . "Different men, different -wisdoms," he repeated, musingly. "I suppose it must be. People's lives -are so very different. . . . And of what kind was the wisdom of your old -man?" - -"The wisdom of a great plain as level almost as the sea," said the other -gravely. "His voice was as unexpected when I heard it as your own, -signore. The evening shadows had closed about me just after I had seen -to the west, on the edge of the world as it were, a lion miss his spring -on a bounding deer. They went away right into the glow and vanished. It -was as though I had dreamed. When I turned round there was the old man -behind me no farther away than half the width of this platform. He only -smiled at my startled looks. His long silver locks stirred in the -breeze. He had been watching me, it seems, from folds of ground and from -amongst reed beds for nearly half a day, wondering what I might be at. I -had come ashore to wander on the plain. I like to be alone sometimes. My -ship was anchored in a bight of this deserted coast a good many miles -away, too many to walk back in the dark for a stranger like me. So I -spent the night in that old man's ranch, a hut of grass and reeds, near -a little piece of water peopled by a multitude of birds. He treated me -as if I had been his son. We talked till dawn and when the sun rose I -did not go back to my ship. What I had on board of my own was not of -much value, and there was certainly no one there to address me as "My -son" in that particular tone--you know what I mean, signore." - -"I don't know--but I think I can guess," was the answer whose -light-hearted yet earnest frankness was particularly boyish and provoked -a smile on the part of the older man. In repose his face was grave. His -English interlocutor went on after a pause. "You deserted from your ship -to join a hermit in a wilderness simply because the tone of his voice -appealed to your heart. Is that your meaning?" - -"You have guessed it, signorino. Perhaps there was more in it than that. -There is no doubt about it that I did desert from my ship." - -"And where was that?" - -"On the coast of South America," answered the man from the other side of -the big gun, with sudden curtness. "And now it is time for us to part." - -But neither of them stirred and for some time they remained silent, -growing shadowy to each other on the massive tower, which itself, in the -advancing night, was but a gray shadow above the dark and motionless -sea. - -"How long did you stay with that hermit in the desert?" asked Cosmo. -"And how did you leave him?" - -"Signore, it was he who left me. After I had buried his body I had -nothing more to do there. I had learned much during that year." - -"What is it you learned, my friend? I should like to know." - -"Signore, his wisdom was not like that of other men and it would be too -long to explain to you here on this tower and at this late hour of the -day. I learned many things. How to be patient, for instance. . . . -Don't you think, signore, that your friends or the servants at the inn -may become uneasy at your long absence?" - -"I tell you I haven't been much more than two hours in this town and I -have spoken to nobody in it till I came upon you, except of course to -the people at the inn." - -"They may start looking for you." - -"Why should they trouble their heads? It isn't late yet. Why should they -notice my absence?" - -"Why? . . . Simply because your supper may be ready by this time," -retorted the man impatiently. - -"It may be, but I am not hungry yet," said the young man casually. "Let -them search for me all over the town if they like." Then in a tone of -interest, "Do you think they would think of looking for me here?" he -asked. - -"No. This is the last spot anybody would think of," muttered the other -as if to himself. He raised his voice markedly, "We must part indeed. -Good-night, signore." - -"Good-night." - -The man in the seaman's jacket stared for a moment, then with a brusque -movement cocked his cap with the strange tassel more on the side of his -head. "I am not going away from this spot," he said. - -"I thought you were. Why did you wish me good-night then?" - -"Because we must part." - -"I suppose we must some time or other," agreed Cosmo in a friendly -voice. "I should like to meet you again." - -"We must part at once, this moment, on this tower." - -"Why?" - -"Because I want to be left alone," answered the other after the -slightest of pauses. - -"Oh, come! Why on earth do you want to be left alone? What is it you -could do here?" protested the other with great good humour. Then as if -struck by an amusing notion, "Unless indeed you want to practise -incantations," he continued lightly, "and perhaps call the Evil One to -your side." He paused. "There are people, you know, that think it can be -done," he added in a mocking tone. - -"They are not far wrong," was the other's ominous reply. "Each man has a -devil not very far from his elbow. Don't argue, signore, don't call him -up in me! You had better say no more and go in peace from here." - -The young traveller did not change his careless attitude. The man in the -cap heard him say quietly, almost in a tone of self-communion: - -"I prefer to stay in peace here." - -It was indeed a wonderful peace. The sound of their quiet voices did not -seem to affect it in the least. It had an enormous and overpowering -amplitude which seemed rather to the man in the cap to take the part of -the Englishman's calm obstinacy against his growing anger. He couldn't -repress an impulsively threatening movement in the direction of his -inconvenient companion but it died out in perplexity. He pushed his cap -still more on one side and simply scratched his head. - -"You are one of those people that are accustomed to have their own way. -Well, you can't have your way this time. I have asked you quietly to -leave me alone on this tower. I asked you as man to man. But if you -won't listen to reason I . . ." - -Cosmo, putting the palms of his hands against the edge of the parapet, -sprang lightly nearly to the middle of the platform and landed without a -stagger. His voice was perfectly even. - -"Reason is my only guide," he declared. "But your request looks like -mere caprice. For what can you possibly have to do here? The sea birds -are gone to sleep and I have as much right to the air up here as you. -Therefore . . ." - -A thought seemed to strike him. "Surely this can't be your trysting -place," he commented in a changed tone through which pierced a certain -sympathy. - -A short scornful laugh from the other checked him and he muttered to -himself soberly, "No. Altogether unfit . . . amongst those grim old -guns." He raised his voice. "All I can do is to give you all the room." -He backed away from the centre of the platform and perched himself this -time on the massive breech of a sixty-pounder. "Go on with your -incantations," he said then to the tall and dim figure whose immobility -appeared helpless for a moment. It broke the short period of silence, -saying deliberately: - -"I suppose you are aware that at any time since we have begun to talk -together it was open to me to fling myself upon you unawares as you sat -on the parapet and knock you over to the bottom of this tower?" He -waited a moment, then in a deeper tone, "Will you deny it?" he said. - -"No, I won't deny it," was the careless answer. "I hadn't thought to be -on my guard. But I can swim." - -"Don't you know there is a border of big blocks of stone there? It would -have been a terrible death. . . . And now, will the signore do what I -ask him and return to his inn which is a much safer place than this -platform?" - -"Safety is not a great inducement; and I don't believe for a moment you -ever thought of attacking me in a treacherous manner." - -"Well," the tall shadowy figure crowned by the shape of the strange cap -admitted reluctantly. "Well, since you put it in those words, signore, I -did not." - -"You see! I believe you are a fine fellow. But as it is I am under no -sort of obligation to listen to you." - -"You are crafty," burst out the other violently. "It's in the blood. How -is one to deal with people like you?" - -"You could try to drive me off," suggested the other. - -There was no answer for a time, then the tall figure muttered -reflectively to itself. - -"After all--he's an Englishman." - -"I don't think myself invincible on that account," observed Cosmo -calmly. - -"I know. I have fought against English soldiers in Buenos Ayres. I was -only thinking that, to give the devil his due, men of your nation don't -consort with spies or love tyranny either. . . . Tell me, is it true -that you have only been two hours in this town?" - -"Perfectly true." - -"And yet all the tyrants of the world are your allies," the shadowy man -pursued his train of thought half aloud. - -The no less shadowy traveller remarked quietly into the gathering night: - -"You don't know who my friends are." - -"I don't, but I think you are not likely to go with a tale to the -Austrian spies or consort with the Piedmontese _sbirri._ As to the -priests who are poking their noses everywhere, I . . ." - -"I don't know a single soul in Italy," interrupted the other. - -"But you will soon. People like you make acquaintances everywhere. But -it's idle talk with strangers that I fear. Can I trust you as an -Englishman not to talk of what you may see?" - -"You may. I can't imagine what unlawful thing you are about to commit -here. I am dying from curiosity. Can it be that you are really some sort -of sorcerer? Go on! Trace your magic circle if that is your business, -and call up the spirits of the dead." - -A low grunt was the only answer to this speech uttered in a tone between -jest and earnest. Cosmo watched from the breech of his gun with intense -interest the movements of the man who objected so strongly to his -presence but who now seemed to pay no attention to him at all. They were -not the movements of a magician in so far that they certainly had -nothing to do with the tracing of circles. The figure had stepped over -to the seaward face of the tower and seemed to be pulling endless things -out of the breast pocket of his jacket. The young Englishman got down -from the breech of the gun, without ceasing to peer in a fascinated way, -and moved closer step by step till he threw himself back with an -exclamation of astonishment. "By heavens! The fellow is going to fish." -. . . Cosmo remained mute with surprise for a good many seconds and then -burst out loudly: - -"Is this what you displayed all this secrecy for? This is the worst hoax -I ever . . ." - -"Come nearer, signore, but take care not to tangle all my twine with -your feet. . . . Do you see this box?" - -The heads of the two men had come together confidentially and the young -traveller made out a cylindrical object which was in fact a round tin -box. His companion thrust it into his hand with the request, "Hold it -for me a moment, signore," and then Cosmo had the opportunity to -ascertain that the lid of it was hermetically sealed. The man in the -strange cap dived into the pocket of his breeches for flint and steel. -The Englishman beheld with surprise his lately inimical companion -squeeze himself between the massive tube of the piece of ordnance and -the wall of stone and wriggle outwards into the depth of, the thick -embrasure till nothing of him remained visible but his black stockings -and the soles of his heavy shoes. After a time his voice came deadened -along the thickness of the wall: - -"Will you hand me the box now, signore?" - -Cosmo, enlisted in these mysterious proceedings, the nature of which was -becoming clear enough to him, obeyed at once, and approaching the -embrasure thrust the box in at the full length of his arm till it came -in contact with the ready hand of the man who was lying flat on his -stomach with his head projecting beyond the wall of the tower. His -groping hand found and snatched away the box. The twine was attached to -the box and at once its length laid on the platform began to run out -till the very end disappeared. Then the man lying prone within the -thickness of the gun embrasure lay still as death and the young -traveller strained his ears in the absolute silence to catch the -slightest sound at the foot of the tower. But all he could hear was the -faint sound of some distant clock striking somewhere in the town. He -waited a little longer, then in the cautious tone of a willing -accomplice murmured within the opening: - -"Got a bite yet?" - -The answer came hardly audible: - -"No. But this is the very hour." - -Cosmo felt his interest growing. And yet the facts in themselves were -not very exciting, but all this had the complexion and the charm of an -unexpected adventure, heightened by its mystery, playing itself out -before that old town towering like a carved hill decorated with lights -that began to appear quickly on the sombre and colossal mass of that -lofty shore. The last gleam had died out in the west. The harbour was -dark except for the lantern at the stern of the British ship of the -line. The man in the embrasure made a slight movement. Cosmo became more -alert but apparently nothing happened. There was no murmur of voices, -splash of water, or sign of the slightest stir all round the tower. -Suddenly the man in the embrasure began to wriggle back on to the -platform and in a very few minutes stood up to his full height facing -the unexpected helper. - -"She has come and gone," he said. "Did you hear anything, signore?" - -"Not a sound. She might have been the ghost of a boat--for you are -alluding to a boat, are you not?" - -"_Si._ And I hope that if any eye on shore had made her out it had taken -her for only a ghost. Of course that English vessel of war rows guard at -night. But it isn't to look out for ghosts." - -"I should think not. Ghosts are of no account. Could there be anything -more futile than the ghost of a boat?" - -"You are one of the strong-minded, signore. Ghosts are the concern of -the ignorant--yet who knows? But it does sound funny to talk of the -ghost of a boat, a thing of brute matter. For wouldn't a ghost be a -thing of spirit, a man's soul itself made restless by grief or love, or -remorse or anger? Such are the stories that one hears. But the old -hermit of the plain, of whom I spoke, assured me that the dead are too -glad to be done with life to make trouble on earth." - -"You and your hermit!" exclaimed Cosmo in a boyish and marvelling tone. -"I suppose it is no use me asking you what I have been just helping you -in." - -"A little smuggling operation, signore. Surely, signore, England has -custom houses and therefore must have smugglers too." - -"One has heard of them of course. But I wouldn't mind a bet that there -is not one of them that resembles you. Neither do I believe that they -deal with packages as small as the one you lowered into that ghostly -boat. You saw her of course. There was a boat." - -"There was somebody to cut the string, as you see, signore. Look, here -is all that twine, all of it but a little piece. It may have been a man -swimming in the dark water. A man with a soul, fit to make a ghost of . . . -let us call him a ghost, signore." - -"Oh yes, let us," the other said lightly. "I am sure that when I wake up -to-morrow all this will seem to me a dream. Even now I feel inclined to -pinch myself." - -"What's that for, in Heaven's name?" - -"It's a saying we have in our country. Yes, you, your hermit, our talk, -and this very tower, all this will be like a dream." - -"I would say 'nothing better' if it was not that most people are only -too ready to talk about their dreams. No, signore, let all this be to -you of less consequence than if it were a tale of ghosts, of mere ghosts -in which you do not believe. You forced yourself on me as if you were -the lord of this place, but I feel friendly enough to you." - -"I didn't ask for your friendship," retorted the young traveller in a -clear voice so void of all offence that the other man accepted it for a -mere statement of a fact. - -"Certainly not. I spoke of my own feelings, and though I am, you may -say, a new-comer and a stranger in my own native city, I assure you it -is better to have me for a friend than for an enemy. And the best thing -of all would be to forget all about me. It would be also the kindest -thing you could do." - -"Really?" said Cosmo in a tone of sympathy. "How can you expect me to -forget the most extraordinary thing that ever happened to me in all my -life?" - -"In all your life! H'm! You have a long life before you yet, signorino." - -"Oh, but this is an adventure." - -"That's what I mean. You have so many marvellous adventures before you, -signorino, that this one is sure to be forgotten very soon. Then why not -at once?" - -"No, my friend, you don't seem somehow a person one could easily -forget." - -"I---- God forbid. . . . Good-night, signore." - -No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the man in the cap -bounded across the platform, dived into the black square opening on its -landward side, and ran down the steps so lightly that not a sound -reached the ears of the other. Cosmo went down the winding stair, but -cautiously in the profound darkness. The door at the bottom stood open -and he stepped out on to the deserted jetty. He could see on it nothing -in the shape of a fleeting shadow. - -On the very edge of the shore a low little building with three arcades -sent a dim gleam of light through its open door. It seemed to be a sort -of guardroom, for there was a sentry, an Austrian soldier apparently, in -a white coat. His duty, however, seemed to be concerned with the -landing-steps in front of the guardhouse, and he let the young traveller -pass on as though he had not seen him at all. Dark night had settled -upon the long quay. Here and there a dim street lamp threw a feeble -light on the uneven stones which the feet of the young traveller with -his springy walk seemed hardly to touch. The pleasurable sensation of -something extraordinary having happened to him accelerated his -movements. He was also feeling very hungry and he was making haste -towards his inn to dine first and then to think his adventure over, for -there was a strong conviction within him that he certainly had had an -adventure of a nature at the same time stimulating and obscure. - - - - -II - - -Cosmo Latham had an inborn faculty of orientation in strange -surroundings, most invaluable in a cavalry officer, but of which he had -never made much use, not even during the few months when he served as a -cornet of horse in the Duke of Wellington's army in the last year of the -peninsular campaign. There had been but few occasions to make use of it -for a freshly joined subaltern. It stood him in good stead that night, -however, while making his way to his inn in a town in which he was a -complete stranger, for it allowed him, with but little concern for the -direction he took, to think of his home which he loved for itself, every -stone and every tree of it--and of the two people he left there, whom he -loved too, each in a different way: his father, Sir Charles, and his -sister Henrietta. - -Latham Hall, a large straggling building showing traces of many styles, -flanked by a romantic park and commanding a vast view of the Yorkshire -hills, had been the hereditary home of Lathams from the times before the -Great Rebellion. That it escaped confiscation then might have been the -effect of the worldly prudence of the Latham of the time. He probably -took good care not to shock persons of position and influence. That, -however, was not the characteristic of the later Lathams down to Sir -Charles, Cosmo's father. - -Sir Charles's unconventional individuality had never been understood by -his country neighbours. Born endowed with a good intellect, a lively -imagination, and a capacity for social intercourse, it had been his -fate, owing to the idiosyncrasies of his own father, to spend his early -youth in the depths of Yorkshire in surroundings not at all congenial to -his tastes. Later he served for a time in the Guards; but he very soon -left the army to make an extended tour in France and Italy. In those -last days before the Revolution _le chevalier_ Latham obtained a great -social recognition in Paris and Versailles amongst the very best people, -not so much by his brilliance as by the depth of his character and the -largeness of his ideas. But suddenly he tore himself away from his -friendships and successes and proceeded to Italy. There, amongst the -members of the English colony in Florence, he met the two Aston girls -and, for some reason or other, became a great favourite with their -widowed mother. But at the end of some months he suddenly made up his -mind to return home. During a long, sleepless night, which he spent -pacing up and down in the agony of an internal struggle with himself in -the magnificent rooms of his lodgings in Florence, he concluded that he -would go home by sea. It was the easiest way of avoiding coming near -Paris. He had heard not long before that the best friends he had made in -the brilliant society he had frequented in France, the Marquis and the -Marquise d'Armand, had a daughter born to them. At Leghorn on the very -eve of embarking he had another struggle with himself--but he went by -sea. By the time when, after a long sea passage, he put his foot on -native soil he had renounced the idea of hurrying on north to shut -himself up in his country home. He lingered in London, disdainful and -idle, and began reluctantly to fall into the ways of a man about town, -when a friend returning from Italy brought him news that Miss Aston was -going to marry a Tuscan nobleman of mature years, and, as a piece of -queer Florentine gossip, that if the younger sister. Miss Molly Aston, -had refused two suitors in quick succession it was because she regarded -herself in some way as being engaged to him, Charles Latham. - -Whether stung by his conscience or urged by indignation Sir Charles -started impulsively for Italy, travelling across the south of France. It -was a long road. At first he had been amazed, confounded, and angry; but -before he came to the end of his journey he had time to reflect upon -what might have easily become an absurd and odious situation. He said to -himself that a lot of bother of one sort and another would be saved by -his marrying Molly Aston. He did so, to the applause of all right-minded -people, and at the end of two years spent abroad came home with his wife -to shut himself up in his ancestral hall commanding the view of a wide -and romantic landscape, which he thought one of the finest in the world. - -Molly Aston had been beautiful enough in her time to inspire several -vagrant poets and at least one Italian sculptor; but as Cosmo grew older -he began to understand that his mother had been a nonentity in the -family life. The greatest piece of self-assertion on her part was his -name. She had insisted on calling him Cosmo because the Astons counted, -far back in the past, an ancestress of Florentine origin, supposed to -have been a connection of the Medici family. Cosmo was fair, and the -name was all about him that he had received from his mother. Henrietta -was a type of dark beauty. Lady Latham died when both her children were -still young. In her life she adorned Latham Hall in the same way as a -statue might have adorned it. Her household power was limited to the -ordering of the dinner. With habits of meticulous order and a -marvellously common-place mind she had a temperament which, if she had -not fallen violently in love at the age of eighteen with the same man -whom she married, would have made her fond of society, of amusement, and -perhaps even of dissipation. But her only amusement and dissipation -consisted of writing long letters to innumerable relations and friends -all over the world, of whom after her marriage she saw but very little. -She never complained. Her hidden fear of all initiative and the secret -ardour of her temperament found their fulfilment in an absolute -submission to Sir Charles's will. She would never have dreamed of asking -for horses for a visit in the neighbourhood, but when her husband -remarked, "I think it would be advisable for you, my lady, to call at -such and such a house," her face would light up, she would answer with -alacrity, "Certainly, Sir Charles," and go off to array herself -magnificently indeed (perhaps because of that drop of Medici blood), but -also with great taste. - -As the years went on Sir Charles aged more than he ought to have done, -and even began to grow a little stout, but no one could fail to see that -he had been a very handsome man in his time and that his wife's early -infatuation for him was justified in a way. In politics he was a -partisan of Mr. Pitt rather than a downright Tory. He loved his country, -believed in its greatness, in its superior virtue, in its irresistible -power. Nothing could shake his fidelity to national prejudices of every -sort. He had no great liking for grandees and mere aristocrats, despised -the fashionable world, and would have nothing whatever to do with any -kind of "upstart." Without being gentle he was naturally kind and -hospitable. His native generosity was so well known that no one was -surprised when he offered the shelter of his Yorkshire house to a family -of French refugees, the Marquis and the Marquise d'Armand and their -little daughter Adèle. They had arrived in England in a state of almost -complete destitution but with two servants who had shared the dangers -and the miseries of their flight from the excesses of the Revolution. - -The presence of all these people at Latham Hall which, considered at -first as a temporary arrangement, was to last for some years, did not -affect in the least Lady Latham's beautifully dressed, idle equanimity. -Had not the D'Armands been Sir Charles's intimate friends years ago, in -France? But she had no curiosity. She was vaguely impressed by the fact -that the Marquise was a god-daughter of the Queen of Naples. For the -rest it was only so many people more in the servants' hall, at the -dinner table, and in the drawing room where the evenings were spent. - -High up on one of the walls a lamp with a shaded reflector concentrated -its light on the yellow satin coat on the half-length portrait of a -rubicund Latham in a white coburg, which but for the manly and sensitive -mouth might have been the portrait of his own coachman. Apart from that -spot of beautiful colour the vast room with its windows giving on a -terrace (from which Sir Charles was in the habit of viewing sunsets) -remained dim with an effect of immensity in which the occupants, and -even Sir Charles himself, acquired the appearance of unsubstantial -shadows uttering words that had to travel across long, almost unlighted -distances. - -On one side of the mantelpiece of Italian marbles (a late addition -designed by Sir Charles himself) Lady Latham's profuse jewellery -sparkled about her splendid and restful person posed placidly on a sofa. -Opposite her, the Marquise would be lying down on a deep couch with one -of Lady Latham's shawls spread over her feet. The D'Armands in their -flight from the Terror had saved very little besides their lives, and -the Marquise d'Armand's life had by this time become a very precarious -possession. - -Sir Charles was perhaps more acutely aware of this than the Marquis her -husband. Sir Charles remembered her gentle in her changing moods of -gaiety and thought, charming, active, fascinating, and certainly the -most intelligent as she was the most beautiful of the women of the -French court. Her voice reaching him clear but feeble across the drawing -room had a pathetic appeal; and the tone of his answers was tinged with -the memory of a great sentiment and with the deference due to great -misfortunes. From time to time Lady Latham would make a remark in a -matter-of-fact tone which would provoke something resembling curtness in -Sir Charles's elaborately polite reply, and the thought that woman would -have made the very Lord's Prayer sound prosaic. And then in the long -pauses they would pursue their own thoughts as perplexed and full of -unrest as the world of seas and continents that began at the edge of the -long terrace graced by gorgeous sunsets; the wide world filled with the -strife of ideas and the struggle of nations in perhaps the most troubled -time of its history. - -From the depths of the Italian chimneypiece the firelight of blazing -English logs would fall on Adèle d'Armand sitting quietly on a low -stool near her mother's couch. Her fair hair, white complexion, and dark -blue eyes contrasted strongly with the deeper colour scheme of Henrietta -Latham, whose locks were rich chestnut brown and whose eyes had a dark -lustre full of intelligence rather than sentiment. Now and then the -French child would turn her head to look at Sir Charles, for whom in her -silent existence she had developed a filial affection. - -In those days Adèle d'Armand did not see much of her own father. Most -of the time the Marquis was away. Each of his frequent absences was an -act of devotion to his exiled Princes, who appreciated it no doubt but -found devotion only natural in a man of that family. The evidence of -their regard for the Marquis took the shape mainly of distant and -dangerous missions to the courts of north Germany, and northern Italy. -In the general disruption of the old order those missions were all -futile, because no one ever stopped an avalanche by means of plots and -negotiations. But in the Marquis the perfect comprehension of that -profound truth was mingled with the sort of enthusiasm that fabricates -the very hopes on which it feeds. He would receive his instructions for -those desperate journeys with extreme gravity and depart on them without -delay, after a flying visit to the Hall to embrace his ailing wife and -his silent child and hold a grave conference with his stately English -friend from whom he never concealed a single one of his thoughts or his -hopes. And Sir Charles approved of them both; because the thoughts were -sober and absolutely free from absurd illusions common to all exiles, -thus appealing to Sir Charles's reason and also to his secret disdain of -all great aristocracies--and the second, being based on the Marquis's -conviction of England's unbroken might and consistency, seemed to Sir -Charles the most natural thing in the world. - -They paced a damp laurel-bordered walk together for an hour or so: Sir -Charles lame and stately like a disabled child of Jupiter himself, the -Marquis restraining his stride and stooping with a furrowed brow to talk -in measured, level tones. The wisdom of Sir Charles expressed itself in -curt sentences in which scorn for men's haphazard activities and -shortsighted views was combined with a calm belief in the future. - -After the peace of Amiens the Compte d'Artois, the representative of the -exiled dynasty in England, having expressed the desire to have the -Marquis always by his side, the Marquise and Adèle left Latham Hall for -the poverty and the makeshifts of the life of well-nigh penniless exiles -in London. It was as great a proof of devotion to his royal cause as any -that could be given. They settled down in a grimy house of yellow brick -in four rooms up a very narrow and steep staircase. For attendants they -had a dark mulatto maid, brought as a child from the West Indies before -the Revolution by an aunt of the Marquise, and a man of rather -nondescript nationality called Bernard, who had been at one time a -hanger-on in the country house of the D'Armands, but following the -family in its flight and its wanderings before they had found refuge in -England, had displayed unexpected talents as a general factotum. Life at -Latham Hall had bored him exceedingly. The sense of complete security -was almost too much for his patience. The regularity of the hours and -the certitude of abundant meals depressed his spirits at times. The -change to London revived him greatly, for there he had something to do -and found daily occasion to display his varied gifts. He went marketing -in the early morning, dusted the room he called the salon, cooked the -meals, inspired and made happy by the large white smile of Mlle. Aglae, -the Negress, with whom he was very much in love. At twelve o'clock, -after tidying himself a bit, he would go in on the tips of his heavy -square shoes and carry the Marquise from her room to the sofa in the -salon with elaborate sureness and infinite respect, while Aglae followed -with pillow, shawl, and smelling bottle, wearing a forced air of -gravity. Bernard was acutely aware of her presence and would be -certain--the Marquise once settled on her sofa--to get a flash of a -white grin all to himself. Later Mlle. Adèle, white and fair, would go -out visiting, followed by Aglae as closely as night follows day; and -Bernard would watch them down the depths of the staircase in the hope of -catching a sight of a quickly upturned dark brown face with fine rolling -eyes. This would leave him happy for the rest of the afternoon. In the -evening his function was to announce visitors who had toiled up the -stairs: some of the first names in France that had come trudging on foot -through the mud or dust of the squalid streets to fill the dimly lighted -room which was the salon of the Marquise d'Armand. For those duties -Bernard would put on a pair of white stockings, which Miss Aglae washed -for him every second day, and encase his wide shoulders in a very tight -green shabby jacket with large metal buttons. Miss Aglae always found a -minute or two to give him a hasty inspection and a brush-down. Those -were delightful instants. Holding his breath and in a state of rigid -beatitude he turned about as ordered in gay whispers by his exotic -lady-love. Later he would sit on a stool outside the closed door -listening to the well-bred soft uproar of conversation; and when the -guests began to depart he lighted them downstairs, holding a tallow dip -in a small candlestick over the banister of the landing. When his duties -for the day were over he made up for himself a bed on the floor of a -narrow passage which separated the living rooms from a sort of large -cupboard in which Miss Aglae reposed from her daily labours. Bernard, -lying under a pair of thin blankets and with the tallow candle burning -on the floor, kept slumber off till Miss Aglae stuck out her head tied -up in an old red foulard--nothing but her head through the crack of the -door--in order to have a little whispered conversation. That was the -time when the servants exchanged their views and communicated to each -other their ideas and observations. The black maid's were shrewder than -the white factotum's. Being a personal attendant of the two ladies she -had occasion to see and hear more than her admirer. They commented on -the evident decline of the Marquise's health, not dolefully but simply -as a significant fact of the situation; on the Marquis's manner of daily -life which had become domestic and almost sedentary. He went out every -day but now he never went away for weeks and months as he used to -before. Those sudden and mysterious missions for which a misanthropic -Yorkshire baronet had paid out of his own pocket had come to an end. A -Marquis d'Armand could not be sent out as a common spy and there was now -no court in Christendom that would dare to receive an emissary, secret -or open, of the royal exiles. Bernard, who could read, explained these -things shortly to Miss Aglae. All great folk were terrified at that -Bonaparte. He made all the generals tremble. On those facts Miss Aglae -would have it that he must be a sorcerer. Bernard had another view of -Napoleonic greatness. It was nothing but the power of lies. And on one -occasion after a slight hesitation he burst out: "Shall I tell you the -truth about him. Miss Aglae?" The tied-up black head protruding through -the crack of the door nodded assent many times in the dim light of the -tallow dip. "Well then," continued Bernard with another desperate -effort, "he is of no account." - -Miss Aglae repressed with difficulty the loud burst of laughter which -was the usual expression of her unsophisticated emotions. She had heard -ladies and gentlemen in the salon express a very similar opinion of -Bonaparte, but she thought suddenly of Miss Adèle and emitted a sigh. - -"He seems to get him paw on the whole world, anyhow. What sort of a -fellow is he, Bernard? You have seen him." - -Bernard had seen the fellow. He assured Miss Aglae that he was a -miserable shrimp of a man in big boots and with lank hair hanging down -his yellow cheeks. "I could break him in two like a straw if I could -only get him into my hands." - -Believing it implicitly, the black maid suggested that Bernard should go -and do it. - -"I would go at once," said the faithful follower. "But if I went I would -never see you again. He has always a hundred thousand men around him." - -At this Miss Aglae, who had begun to smile, ended with a sigh of such a -deeply sorrowful nature that Bernard assured her that the time would -come, yes, some day the time would come when everybody would get back -his own. Aglae was ready to believe this prophecy. But meantime there -was Miss Adèle. That sweet child was now ready to get married, but -everybody was so very poor. Bernard put on a sentimental expression in -the dim light of the tallow dip, the flame of which swayed by the side -of his straw mattress and made the shadow of his head, protected by a -nightcap, dance too, high up the wall of the drafty passage. Timidly he -muttered of love. That would get over all the difficulties. - -"You very stupid man, Mr. Bernard. Love! What sort of trash you talk? -Love don't buy fish for dinner." Then with sudden anxiety she inquired: -"Have you got money for marketing to-morrow?" Bernard had the money. Not -much, but he had the money. "Then you go out early and buy fish for -dinner. This Madame la Marquise orders. Easier than killing an emperor," -she continued sarcastically. "And take care fat woman in Billingsgate -don't cheat you too much," she added with dignity before drawing her -head in and shutting the door of her dark cupboard. - -A month later, sitting upon his straw bed and with his eyes fixed on the -door of Miss Aglae's cupboard, Bernard had just begun to think that he -had done something to offend, and that he would be deprived of his -whispered midnight chat, when the door opened, the head of the girl -appeared in its usual position. It drooped. Its white eyeballs glistened -full of tears. It said nothing for a long time. Bernard was extremely -alarmed. He wanted to know in an anxious whisper what was wrong. The -maid let him cudgel his brains for a whole minute before she made the -statement that oh! she did not like the looks of a certain gentleman -visitor in a "too-much-laced coat." - -Bernard, relieved but uncomprehending, snatched the candlestick off the -floor and raised it to the protruded head of the maid. - -"What is there to cry about?" he asked. The tears glistening on the -dusky cheek astonished him beyond measure; and as an African face lends -itself to the expression of sorrow more than any other type of human -countenance, he was profoundly moved, and without knowing the cause, by -mere sympathy felt ready to cry himself. - -"You don't see! You don't understand anything, Bernard. You stand there -at the door like a stick. What is the use of you I can't tell." - -Bernard would have felt the injustice to be unbearable if he had not had -a strong sense of his own merits. Moreover, it was obvious that Aglae -was thoroughly upset. As to the man in the too-much-laced coat, Bernard -remembered that he was dressed very splendidly indeed. He had called -first in company of a very fine English gentleman, a friend of the -family, and he had repeated the call always with that same friend. It -was a fact he had never called by himself yet. The family had dined with -him only the day before, as Bernard knew very well because he had had to -call the hackney coach and had given the address, not to mention the -confidential task of carrying the Marquise down the stairs and then up -again on their return from that entertainment. There could be nothing -wrong with a man with whom the family dined. And the Marquise herself -too, she who, so to speak, never went out anywhere! - -"What has he done?" he asked without marked excitement. "I have never -seen you so distressed. Miss Aglae." - -"Me upset? I should think me upset. I fear him wants carry off Mlle. -Adèle--poor child." - -This staggered the faithful Bernard. "I should like him to try," he said -pugnaciously. "I keep a cudgel there in this passage." A scornful -exclamation from the maid made him pause. "Oh!" he said in a changed -tone, "carry her off for a wife? Well, what's wrong in that?" - -"Oh! you silly!" whimpered Aglae. "Can't you see him twice, twice and a -half, the age of Miss Adèle?" - -Bernard remained silent a minute. "Fine-looking man," he remarked at -last. "Do you know anything else about him?" - -"Him got plenty of money," sobbed out Aglae. - -"I suppose the parents will have something to say about that," said -Bernard, after a short meditation. "And if Mlle. Adèle herself . . ." - -But Aglae wailed under her breath, as it were. "It's done, Bernard, it's -done!" - -Bernard, fascinated, stared upwards at the maid. A mental reference to -abundance of money for marketing flashed through his mind. - -"I suppose Mlle. Adèle can love a man like that. Why not?" - -"Him got very fine clothes certainly," hissed Aglae furiously. Then she -broke down and became full of desolation. "Oh, Bernard, them poor -people, you should have seen their faces this morning when I served the -breakfast. I feel as if I must make a big howl while I give plate to M. -le Marquis. I hardly dare to look at anybody." - -"And Mademoiselle?" asked Bernard in an anxious whisper. - -"I don't like to look at her either," went on Aglae in a tone of -anguish. "She got quite a flush on her face. She think it very great and -fine, make everybody rich. I ready to die with sorrow, Bernard. She -don't know. She too young. Why don't you cry with me?--you great stupid -man." - - - - -III - - -The marriage, the prospect of which failed to commend itself to the -coloured maid, took place in due course. The contract which expressed -the business side of that alliance was graced by the signature of a -Prince of the blood and by two other signatures of a most aristocratic -complexion. The French colony in London refrained from audible comments. -The gracious behaviour of H.R.H. the Duc de Berry to the bridegroom -killed all criticism in the very highest circles of the emigration. In -less exalted circles there were slight shrugs and meaning glances, but -very little else besides, except now and then a veiled sarcasm which -could be ascribed to envy as much as to any other sentiment. Amongst the -daughters of the emigration there must have been more than one who in -her heart of hearts thought Adèle d'Armand a very lucky girl. The -splendour of the entertainments which were given to the London society -by the newly wedded couple after their return from the honeymoon put it -beyond all doubt that the man whom Aglae described as wearing a -"too-much-laced coat" was very rich. It began also to be whispered that -he was a man of fantastic humours and of eccentric whims of the sort -that do not pass current in the best society; especially in the case of -a man whose rank was dubious and whose wealth was but recently acquired. -But the embittered and irreconcilable remnant of the exiled aristocracy -gave but little of its sympathy to Adèle d'Armand. She ought to have -waited till the King was restored, and either married suitably--or else -entered a convent for ladies of rank. For these too would soon be -restored. - -The Marquis, before the engagement of his daughter had become public, -had written to his friend Sir Charles of the impending marriage in -carefully selected terms which demanded nothing but a few words of -formal congratulation. Of his son-in-law he mentioned little more than -the name. It was, he said, that of a long-impoverished Piedmontese -family with good French connections formed in the days before it had -fallen into comparative obscurity but, the Marquis insisted, fully -recognized by the parties concerned. It was the family De Montevesso. -The world had heard nothing of it for more than a century, the Marquis -admitted parenthetically. His daughter's intended husband's name was -Helion--Count Helion de Montevesso. The title had been given to him by -the King of Sardinia just before that unfortunate monarch was driven out -of his dominions by the armies of republican France. It was the reward -of services rendered at a critical time and none the less meritorious -because, the Marquis admitted, they were of a financial nature. Count -Helion, who went away very young from his native country and wandered in -many lands, had amassed a large personal fortune, the Marquis went on to -say, which luckily was invested in a manner that made it safe from -political revolutions and social disasters overwhelming both France and -Italy. That fortune, as a matter of fact, had not been made in Europe, -but somewhere beyond the seas. The Marquis's letter reached Latham Hall -in the evening of an autumn day. - -The very young Miss Latham, seated before an embroidery frame, watched -across the drawing room her father reading the letter under the glare of -the reflector lamp and at the feet, as it were, of the Latham in the -yellow satin coat. Sir Charles raised his eyebrows, which with passing -years had become bushy and spoiled a little the expression of his -handsome face. Miss Latham was made very anxious by his play of -physiognomy. She had already been told after the first rustle of -unfolded paper that her big friend Adèle d'Armand (Miss Latham was four -years younger) was going to be married, and had become suddenly, but -inwardly, excited. Every moment she expected her father to tell her -something more. She was dying from impatience; but there was nothing -further except the rustle of paper--and now this movement of the -eyebrows. Then Sir Charles lowered his hands slowly. She could contain -herself no longer. - -"Who is it, Papa?" she asked with animation. - -Henrietta Latham was fifteen then. Her dark eyes had remained as large -as ever. The purity of her complexion, which was not of the milk-white -kind, was admirable and the rich shade of the brown curls clustering on -each side of her faintly glowing cheeks made a rich and harmonious -combination. Sir Charles gazed at his daughter's loveliness with an air -of shocked abstraction. But he too could not contain himself. He -departed from his stateliness so far as to growl out scathingly: - -"An upstart of some kind." - -Miss Latham was, for all her lively manner, not given to outward -manifestations of emotions. This intelligence was too shocking for a -gasp or an exclamation. She only flushed slowly to the roots of her -pretty hair. An upstart simply meant to her everything that was bad in -the way of a human being, but the scathing tone of Sir Charles's -outburst also augmented her profound emotion, for it seemed to extend to -Adèle d'Armand herself. It shocked her tender loyalty towards the -French girl, which had not been diminished by a separation of more than -three years. She said quietly: - -"Adèle . . . Impossible!" - -The flush ebbed out of her healthy cheeks and left them pale, with the -eyes darker than Sir Charles had ever seen them before. Those evidences -of his daughter's emotion recalled Sir Charles to himself. After looking -at his daughter fixedly for a moment he murmured the word "impossible" -without any particular accent and again raised the letter to his eyes. - -He did not find it in anything to modify his first impression of the man -whom Adèle d'Armand was about to marry. Once more in his vaguely -explanatory message the Marquis alluded to the wealth of his prospective -son-in-law. It gave him a standing in the best society which his -personal merits could not perhaps have secured for him so completely. -Then the Marquis talked about his wife's health. The Marquise required -many comforts, constant care, and cheerful surroundings. He had been -enabled to leave the disagreeable lodgings in a squalid street for a -little house in Chiswick very near London. He complained to his old -friend that the uncompromising royalists reproached him bitterly for -having signed a three-years' lease. It seemed to them an abominable -apostasy from the faith in a triumphal return of the old order of things -in a month or two. "I have caused quite a scandal by acting in this -sensible manner," he wrote. "I am very much abused, but I have no doubt -that even those who judge me most severely will be glad enough to come -to Adèle's wedding." - -Then, as if unable to resist the need to open his heart, he began the -next line with the words: - - -I need not tell you that all this is my daughter's own doing. The demand -for her hand was made to us regularly through Lord G., who is a good -friend of mine, though he belongs to the faction of Mr. Fox in which the -Count of Montevesso numbers most of his English friends. But directly we -had imparted the proposal to Adèle she took a step you may think -incredible, and which from a certain point of view might even be called -undutiful, if such a word could ever be applied to the sweet and devoted -child our Adèle has always been to us. At her personal request, made -without consulting either her mother or myself. Lord G. had the weakness -to arrange a meeting between her and the Count at his own house. What -those two could have said to each other I really cannot imagine. When we -heard of it, the matter was so far settled that there was nothing left -for us but to accept the inevitable . . . - - -Again Sir Charles let his big white aristocratic hands descend on his -knees. His daughter's dark head drooped over the frame, and he had a -vision of another head, very different and very fair, by its side. It -had been a part of his retired life and had had a large share of his -affection. How large it was he discovered only now, at this moment, when -he felt that it was in a sense lost to him for ever. "Inevitable," he -muttered to himself with a half-scornful, half-pained intonation. Sir -Charles could understand the sufferings, the difficulties, the -humiliations of poverty. But the Marquis might have known that, far or -near, he could have counted on the assistance of his friend. For some -years past he had never hesitated to dip into his purse. But that was -for those mysterious journeys and those secret and important missions -his Princes had never hesitated to entrust him with without ever -troubling their heads about the means. Such was the nature of Princes, -Sir Charles reflected with complete bitterness. And now came this . . . -A whole young life thrown away perhaps, in its innocence, in its -ignorance. . . . How old could Adèle be now? Eighteen or nineteen. Not -so very much younger than her mother was when he used to see so much of -her in Paris and Versailles, when she had managed to put such an impress -on his heart that later he did not care whom he married or where he -lived. . . . Inevitable! . . . Sir Charles could not be angry with the -Marquise, now a mere languid shadow of that invincible charm that his -heart had not been able to resist. She and her husband must have given -up all their hopes, all their loyal royalist hopes before they could bow -like this to the Inevitable. It had not been difficult for him to learn -to love that fascinating French child as though she had been another -daughter of his own. For a moment he experienced an anguish so acute -that it made him move slightly in his chair. Half aloud he muttered the -thought that came into his mind: - -"Austerlitz has done it." - -Miss Latham raised her lustrous dark eyes with an enquiring expression -and murmured, "Papa?" - -Sir Charles got up and seized his stick. "Nothing, my dear, nothing." He -wanted to be alone. But on going out of the room he stopped by the -embroidery frame and, bending down, kissed the forehead of his -daughter--his English daughter. No issue of a great battle could affect -her future. As to the other girl, she was lost to him and it couldn't be -helped. A battle had destroyed the fairness of her life. This was the -disadvantage of having been born French or indeed belonging to any other -nation of the continent. There were forces there that pushed people to -rash or unseemly actions; actions that seemed dictated by despair and -therefore wore an immoral aspect. Sir Charles understood Adèle d'Armand -even better than he understood his own daughter, or at least he -understood her with greater sympathy. She had a generous nature. She was -too young, too inexperienced to know what she was doing when she took in -hand the disposal of her own person in favour of that apparently -Piedmontese upstart with his obscure name and his mysteriously acquired -fortune. "I only hope the fortune is there," thought Sir Charles with -grim scepticism. But as to that there could be no doubt, judging from -the further letters he received from his old friend. After a short but -brilliant period of London life the upstart had carried Adèle off to -France. He had bought an estate in Piedmont, which was his native -country, and another with a splendid house, near Paris. Sir Charles was -not surprised to hear a little later that the Marquise and the Marquis -had also returned to France. The time of persecution was over; most of -the great royalist families were returning, unreconciled in sentiment if -wavering in their purposes. That his old friend should ever be dazzled -by imperial grandeurs Sir Charles could not believe. Though he had -abandoned his daughter to an upstart, he was too good a royalist to -abandon his principles, for which certainly he would have died if that -had been of any use. But he had returned to France. Most of his exiled -friends had returned too, and Sir Charles understood very well that the -Marquis and his wife wanted to be somewhere near their daughter. This -departure closed a long chapter in his life, and afterwards Sir Charles -hardly ever mentioned his French friends. The only positive thing which -Henrietta knew was that Adèle d'Armand had married an upstart and had -returned to France. She had communicated that knowledge to her brother, -who had stared with evident surprise but had made no comment. Living -away from home at school and afterwards in Cambridge, his father's -French friends had remained for him as shadowy figures on the shifting -background of a very poignant, very real, and intense drama of -contemporary history, dominated by one enormously vital and in its -greatness immensely mysterious individuality--the only man of his time. - -Cosmo Latham at the threshold of life had adopted neither of the -contrasted views of Napoleon Emperor entertained by his contemporaries. -For him as for his father before him, the world offered a scene of -conflicting emotions in which facts appraised by reason preserved a -mysterious complexity and a dual character. One evening during an -artless discussion with young men of his own age, it had occurred to him -to say that Bonaparte seemed to be the only man amongst a lot of old -scarecrows. "Look how he knocks them over," he had explained. A moment -of silence followed. Then a voice objected: - -"Then perhaps he is not so great as some of you try to make him out." - -"I didn't mean that exactly," said Cosmo in a sobered tone. "Nobody can -admire that man more than I do. Perhaps the world may be none the worse -for a scarecrow here and there left on the borders of what is right or -just. I only wished to express my sense of the moving force in his -genius." - -"What does he stand for?" asked the same voice. - -Cosmo shook his head. "Many things, and some of them too obvious to -mention. But I can't help thinking that there are some which we cannot -see yet." - -"And some of them that are dead already," retorted his interlocutor. -"They died in his very hands. But there is one thing for which he stands -and that will never die. You seem to have forgotten it. It is the spirit -of hostility to this nation; to what we in this room, with our different -views and opinions, stand for in the last instance." - -"Oh, that!" said Cosmo confidently. "What we stand for isn't an old -scarecrow. Great as he is he will never knock that over. His arm is not -long enough, however far his thoughts may go. He has got to work with -common men." - -"I don't know what you mean. What else are we? I believe you admire -him." - -"I do," confessed Cosmo sturdily. - -This did not prevent him from joining the army in Spain before the year -was out, and that without asking for Sir Charles's approval. Sir Charles -condemned severely the policy of using the forces of the Crown in the -Peninsula. He did not like the ministry of the day and he had a strong -prejudice against all the Wellesleys to whose aggrandizement this whole -policy seemed effected. But when at the end of a year and a half, after -the final victory of Toulouse, his son appeared in Yorkshire, the two -made up for the past coolness by shaking hands warmly for nearly a whole -minute. Cosmo really had done very little campaigning and soon declared -to his father the wish to leave the army. There would be no more -fighting for years and years, he argued, and though he did not dislike -fighting in a good cause, he had no taste for mere soldiering. He wanted -to see something of the world which had been closed to us for so long. -Sir Charles, ageing and dignified, leaned on his stick on the long -terrace. - -"All the world was never closed to us," he said. - -"I wasn't thinking of the East, sir," explained Cosmo. "I heard some -people talk about its mystery, but I think Europe is mysterious enough -just now, and even more interesting." - -Sir Charles nodded his bare gray head in the chill evening breeze. - -"France, Germany," he murmured. - -Cosmo thought that he would prefer to see something of Italy first. He -would go north afterwards. - -"Through Vienna, I suppose," suggested Sir Charles with an impassive -face. - -"I don't think so, sir," said Cosmo frankly. "I don't care much for the -work which is going on there and perhaps still less for the men who are -putting their hands to it." - -This time Sir Charles's slow nod expressed complete agreement. He too -had no liking for the work that was about to begin there. But no -objection could be raised against Italy. He had known Italy well thirty -or more years ago, but it must have been changed out of his knowledge. -He remained silent, gazing at the wide landscape of blue wooded rises -and dark hollows under the gorgeous colours of the sunset. They began to -die out. - -"You may travel far before you see anything like this," he observed to -his son. "And don't be in a hurry to leave us. You have only just come -home. Remember I am well over sixty." - -Cosmo was quite ready to surrender himself to the peace of his Yorkshire -home, so different from the strenuous atmosphere of the last campaign in -the South of France. Autumn was well advanced before he fixed the day -for his departure. On his last day at home Sir Charles addressed him -with perfect calmness. - -"When you pass into Italy you must not fail to see my old friend the -Marquis d'Armand. The French King has appointed him as ambassador in -Turin. It's a sign of high favour, I believe. He will be either in Turin -or Genoa. . . ." Sir Charles paused, then after a perfectly audible sigh -added with an effort: "The Marquise is dead. I knew her in her youth. -She was a marvellous woman. . . ." Sir Charles checked himself, and then -with another effort, "But the daughter of my old friend is I believe -with her father now, a married daughter, the Countess of Montevesso." - -"You mean little Adèle, sir," said Cosmo, with interest, but on Sir -Charles's face there passed a distinct shade of distress. - -"Oh, you remember the child," he said, and his tone was tender but it -changed to contempt as he went on. "I don't know whether the fellow, I -mean the man she married, is staying with them or whether they are -living with him, or whether . . . I know nothing!" - -The word "upstart," heard many years ago from his sister Henrietta, -crossed Cosmo's mind. He thought to himself, "There is something wrong -there," and to his father he said, "I will be able to tell you all about -it." - -"I don't want to know," Sir Charles replied with a surprising solemnity -of tone and manner which hid some deeper feeling. "But give the Marquis -my love and tell him that when he gets tired of all his grandeurs he may -remember that there is a large place for him in this house as long as I -live." - -Late that evening Cosmo, saying good-bye to his sister, took her in his -arms, kissed her forehead, and holding her out at arm's length said: - -"You have grown into a charming girl, Henrietta." - -"I am glad you think so," she said. "Alas, I am too dark. I can never be -as charming as Adèle must have been at my age. You seem to have -forgotten her." - -"Oh no," protested Cosmo carelessly. "A marvel of fairness, wasn't she? -I remember you telling me years ago that she married an upstart." - -"That was Father's expression. You know what that means, Cosmo." - -"I do know what it means, exactly," he said, laughing. "But from what -Father said this afternoon it seems as if he were a rather nasty -upstart. What made Adèle do it?" - -"I am awed," confessed Henrietta. "I don't know what made her do it. I -was never told. Father never talked much about the D'Armands afterwards. -I was with him in the yellow drawing room the evening he got the letter -from the Marquis. After he read it he said something very extraordinary. -You know it's full nine years ago and I was yet a child, yet I could not -have dreamed it. I heard it distinctly. He dropped his hands and said, -'Austerlitz has done it.' What could he have meant?" - -"It would be hard to guess the connection," said Cosmo, smiling at his -sister's puzzled face. "Father must have been thinking of something -else." - -"Father was thinking of nothing else for days," affirmed Henrietta -positively. - -"You must have been a very observant child," remarked her brother. "But -I believe you were always a clever girl, Henrietta. Well, I am going to -see Adèle." - -"Oh yes, you start in the morning to travel ever so far and for ever so -long," said Miss Latham enviously. "Oh Cosmo, you are going to write to -me--lots?" - -He looked at her appreciatively and gave her another brotherly hug. - -"Certainly I will write, whole reams," he said. - - - - -IV - - -On his way from the harbour to the upper part of the town where his inn -was situated Cosmo Latham met very few people. He had to pass through a -sort of covered way; its arch yawned in front of him very black with -only a feeble glimmer of a light in its depths. It did not occur to him -that it was a place where one could very well be knocked on the head by -evil-intentioned men if there were any prowling about in that early part -of the evening, for it was early yet, though the last gleams of sunset -had gone out completely off the earth and out of the sky. On issuing -from the dark passage a maze of narrow streets presented itself to his -choice, but he knew that as long as he kept walking uphill he could not -fail to reach the middle of the town. Projecting at long intervals from -the continuous mass of thick walls, wrought-iron arms held lanterns -containing dim gleams of light. The enormous doors of the lofty gateways -he passed were closed, and the only sound he could hear was that of his -own deliberate footsteps. At a wider spot where several of those lanes -met he stopped, and looking about him asked himself whether all those -enormous and palatial houses were empty, or whether it was the thickness -of walls that killed all the signs of life within; for as to the -population being already asleep he could not believe it for a moment. -All at once he caught sight of a muffled feminine form. In the heavy -shadow she seemed to emerge out of one wall and gliding on seemed to -disappear into another. It was undoubtedly a woman. Cosmo was startled -by this noiseless apparition and had a momentary feeling of being lost -in an enchanted city. Presently the enchanted silence was broken by the -increasing sound of an iron-shod stick tapping the flagstones, till -there walked out of one of the dark and tortuous lanes a man who by his -rolling gait, general outline, and the characteristic shape of the hat, -Cosmo could not doubt, was a seaman belonging to the English man-of-war -in the harbour. The tapping of his stick ceased suddenly and Cosmo -hailed him in English, asking for the way. - -The sturdy figure in the tarpaulin hat put its cudgel under its arm and -answered him in a deep pleasant voice. Yes, he knew the inn. He was just -coming from there. If His Honour followed the street before him he would -come to a large open space and His Honour's inn would be across the -square. In the deep shadows Cosmo could make out of the seaman's face -nothing but the bushy whiskers and the gleam of the eyes. He was pleased -at meeting the very day he had reached the Mediterranean shore (he had -come down to Genoa from Turin) such a fine specimen of a man-of-war's -man. He thanked him for the direction and the sailor, touching his hat, -went off at his slightly rolling gait. Cosmo observed that he took a -turning very near the spot where the muffled woman had a moment before -vanished from his sight. It was a very dark and a very narrow passage -between two towering buildings. Cosmo, continuing on his way, arrived at -a broad thoroughfare badly lighted but full of people. He knew where he -was then. In a very few moments he found himself at the door of his inn -in a great square which in comparison with the rest of the town might -have been said to blaze with lights. - -Under an iron lantern swung above a flight of three broad steps, Cosmo -recognized his servant gazing into the square with a worried expression -which changed at once into one of relief on perceiving his master. He -touched his cap and followed Cosmo into a large hall with several doors -opening into it and furnished with many wooden chairs and tables. At one -of them bearing four candlesticks several British naval officers sat -talking and laughing in subdued tones. A compactly built clean-shaven -person with slightly sunken cheeks, wearing black breeches and a maroon -waistcoat with sleeves, but displaying a very elaborate frill to his -white shirt, stood in the middle of the floor, glancing about with -vigilance, and bowed hurriedly to his latest client. Cosmo returned the -greeting of Signor Cantelucci, who, snatching up the nearest -candlestick, began to ascend a broad stone staircase with an air of -performing a solemn duty. Cosmo followed him, and Cosmo's servant -followed his master. They went up and up. At every flight broad archways -gave a view of dark perspective in which nothing but a few drops of dim -fire were forlornly visible. At last Signor Cantelucci threw open a door -on a landing and bowing again: - -"See, milord! There is a fire. I know the customs and habits of the -English." - -Cosmo stepped into a large and lofty room where in the play of bright -flames under a heavy and tall mantelpiece the shadows seemed very much -disturbed by his entrance. Cosmo approached the blaze with satisfaction. - -"I had enough trouble to get them to light it," remarked the valet in a -resentful tone. "If it hadn't been for a jack-tar with big whiskers I -found down in the hall it wouldn't be done yet. He came up from the ship -with one of these sea officers downstairs. He drove the fellows with the -wood in fine style up here for me. He knows the people here. He cursed -them each separately by their Christian names, and then had a glass of -wine in the kitchen with me." - -Meantime Signor Cantelucci, wearing the aspect of a deaf man, had -lighted, on two separate tables, two clusters of candles which drove the -restless gloom of the large apartment half way up to the ceiling, and -retired with noiseless footsteps. He stopped in the doorway to cast a -keen glance at the master and the man standing by the fire. Those two -turned their heads only at the sound of the closing door. - -"I couldn't think what became of you, sir. I was getting quite worried -about you. You disappeared without saying anything to me." - -"I went for a walk down to the sea," said Cosmo while the man moved off -to where several cowhide trunks were ranged against the wall. "I like to -take a look round on arriving at a new place." - -"Yes, sir; but when it got dark I wondered." - -"I tarried on a tower to watch the sunset," murmured Cosmo. - -"I have been doing some unpacking," said the servant, "but not knowing -how long you mean to stay . . ." - -"It may be a long stay." - -"Then I will go on, sir; that is if you are going to keep this room." - -"Yes. The room will do. Spire. It's big enough." - -Spire took up one of the two candelabras and retired into the -neighbourhood of a sort of state bed heavily draped at the other end of -the room. There, throwing open the trunks and the doors of closets, he -busied himself systematically, without noise, till he heard the quiet -voice of his young master. - -"Spire." - -"Yes, sir," he answered, standing still with a pile of shirts on his -arm. - -"Is this inn very full?" - -"Yes, very," said Spire. "The whole town is full of travellers and -people from the country. A lot of our nobility and gentry are passing -this way." - -He deposited the shirts on a shelf in the depths of the wall and turned -round again. - -"Have you heard any names, Spire?" - -Spire stooped over a trunk and lifted up from it carefully a lot of -white neckcloths folded neatly one within the other. - -"I haven't had much time yet, sir. I heard a few." - -He laid down the neckcloths by the side of the shirts while Cosmo, with -his elbow on the mantelpiece, asked down the whole length of the room: - -"Anybody I know?" - -"Not in this place, sir. There is generally a party of officers from the -man-of-war staying here. They come and go. I have seen some Italian -gentlemen in square-cut coats and powdered hair. Very old-fashioned, -sir. There are some Austrians too, I think; but I haven't seen any -ladies. . . . I am afraid, sir, this isn't the right sort of inn. There -is another about a hundred yards from here on the other side of the -square." - -"I don't want to meet anybody I know," said Cosmo Latham in a low voice. - -Spire thought that this would make his stay in Genoa very dull. At the -same time he was convinced that his young master would alter his mind -before very long and change to that other inn patronized by travellers -of fashion. For himself he was not averse from a little quiet time. -Spire was no longer young. Thirty years ago, before the War and before -the Revolution, he had travelled with Sir Charles in France and Italy. -He was then only eighteen, but being a steady and trustworthy lad was -taken abroad to look after the horses. Sir Charles kept four horses in -Florence, and Spire had often ridden on Tuscan roads behind Sir Charles -and the two Misses Aston, of whom one later became Lady Latham. After -the family settled in Yorkshire he passed from the stables to the house, -acquired a confidential position, and whenever Lady Latham took a -journey he sat in the rumble with a pair of double-barrelled pistols in -the pockets of his greatcoat and ordered all things on the road. Later -he became intermediary between Sir Charles and the stables, the gardens, -and in all out-of-door things about the house. He attended Lady Latham -on her very last drive, all the details for that lady's funeral having -been left to his management. He was also a very good valet. He had been -called one evening into the library where Sir Charles, very gouty that -day, leaning with one hand on a thick stick and with the other on the -edge of a table, had said to him: "I am lending you to Mr. Cosmo for his -travels in France and Italy. You will know your way about. And mind you -draw the charges of the pistols in the carriage every morning and load -them afresh." - -Spire was then requested to help Sir Charles up the stairs and had a few -more words said to him when Sir Charles stopped at the door of his -bedroom. - -"Mr. Cosmo has plenty of sense. You are not to make yourself a nuisance -to him." - -"No, Sir Charles," said the imperturbable Spire. "I will know how to -look after Mr. Cosmo." - -And if he had been asked. Spire would have been able to say that during -the stay in Paris and all through France and Switzerland on the way to -Genoa Mr. Cosmo had given him no trouble at all. - -Spire, still busy unpacking, glanced at his young master. He certainly -looked very quiet now, leaning on his elbow with the firelight playing -from below on his young thoughtful face with its smooth and pale -complexion. "Very good-looking indeed," thought Spire. In that -thoughtful mood he recalled very much the Sir Charles of thirty or -thirty-five years ago. Would he too find his wife abroad? There had been -women enough in Paris of every kind and degree, English and French and -all sorts. But it was a fact that Mr. Cosmo sought most of his company -amongst men, of whom also there had been no lack and of every degree. In -that, too, the young man resembled very much his father. Men's company. -But were he to get caught he would get caught properly; at any rate for -a time, reflected Spire, remembering Sir Charles Latham's rush back to -Italy, the inwardness of which had been no more revealed to him than to -the rest of the world. - -Spire, approaching the candelabra, unfolded partly a very fine coat, -then refolded it before putting it away on a convenient shelf. He had a -moment of regret for his own young days. He had never married, not -because there had been any lack of women to set their caps at him, but -from a sort of half-conscious prudence. Moreover, he had a notion -somehow or other that Sir Charles would not have liked it. Perhaps it -was just as well. Now he was carefree, attending on Mr. Cosmo without -troubling his head about who had remained at home. - -Spire, arranging the contents of a dressing case on the table, cast -another sidelong look at the figure by the fire. Very handsome. -Something like Sir Charles and yet not like. There was a touch of -something unusual, perhaps foreign, and yet no one with a pair of eyes -in his head could mistake Mr. Cosmo for anything but an English -gentleman. - -Spire's memories of his tour with Sir Charles had been growing dim. But -he remembered enough of the old-time atmosphere to have become aware of -a feeling of tension, of a suggestion of restlessness which certainly -was new to him. - -The silence had lasted very long. Cosmo before the fire had not moved. -Spire ventured on a remark. - -"I notice people are excited about one thing and another hereabouts, -sir." - -"Excited. I don't wonder at it. In what way?" - -"Sort of discontented, sir. They don't like the Austrians, sir. You may -have noticed as we came along . . ." - -"Did they like us when we held the town?" - -"I can hardly say that, sir. I have been sitting for an hour or more in -the couriers' room, with all sorts of people coming in and out, and -heard very wild sort of talk." - -"What can you know about its wildness?" - -"To look at their faces was enough. It's a funny place, that room -downstairs," went on Spire, rubbing with a piece of silk a travelling -looking-glass mounted cunningly in a silver case which when opened made -a stand for it. He placed it exactly in the middle of a little table and -turned round to look at his master. Seeing that Cosmo seemed disposed to -listen he continued: "It is vaulted like a cellar and has a little door -giving into a side street. People come in and put as they like. All -sorts of low people, sir, _facchini_ and carters and boatmen and -suchlike. There was an old fellow came in, a gray-headed man, a cobbler, -I suppose, as he brought a bagful of mended shoes for the servants of -the house. He emptied the lot on the stone floor, sir, and instead of -trying to collect his money from the people that were scrambling for -them he made them a speech. He spouted, sir, without drawing a breath. -The courier-valet of an English doctor staying here, a Swiss I think he -is, says to me in his broken English: 'He would cut every Austrian -throat in this town.' We were having a glass of wine together and I -asked him, 'And what do you think of that?' And he says to me, after -thinking a bit, 'I agree with him. . . .' Very dreadful, sir," concluded -Spire with a perfectly unmoved face. - -Cosmo looked at him in silence for a time. "It was very bold talk if -that is what the man really said," he remarked. "Especially as the place -is so public as you say it is." - -"Absolutely open to the street, sir; and that same Swiss fellow had told -me just before that the town was full of spies and what they call -_sbirri_ that came from Turin with the King. The King is staying at the -Palace, sir. They are expecting the Queen of Sardinia to arrive any day. -You didn't know, sir? They say she will come in an English man-of-war. -That old cobbler was very abusive about the King of Piedmont too. Surely -talk like that can't be safe anywhere." - -Spire paused suddenly and Cosmo Latham turned his back to the fire. - -"Well, and what happened?" he asked with a smile. - -"You could have heard a pin drop," said Spire in equable tones, "till -that Signor Cantelucci--that's the padrone of this inn, sir . . ." - -"The man who lighted me up?" said Cosmo. - -"Yes, sir. . . . I didn't know he was in the room till suddenly he spoke -behind my back telling one of the scullions that was there to give the -man a glass of wine. And what the old fellow must do but raise it above -his head and shout a toast to the Destructor of the Austrians before he -tossed it down his throat. I was quite astonished, but Signor Cantelucci -never turned a hair. He offered his snuffbox to that doctor's courier -and myself and shrugged his shoulders. 'It was only Pietro,' he said, 'a -little mad'--he tapped his forehead, you know, sir. The doctor's courier -sat there grinning. I got suddenly uneasy about you, sir, and went out -to the front door to see whether you were coming. It's very different -from what it was thirty years ago. There was no talk in Italy of cutting -foreigners' throats when Sir Charles and I were here. It was quite a -startling experience." - -Cosmo nodded. "You seem impressed. Spire. Well, I too had an experience, -just as the sun was setting." - -"I am sorry to hear that, sir." - -"What do you mean? Why should you be sorry?" - -"I beg your pardon, sir, I thought it was something unpleasant." - -Cosmo had a little laugh. "Unpleasant? No! Not exactly, though I think -it was more dangerous than yours, but if there was any madness connected -with it, it had a very visible method. It was not all talk either. Yes, -Spire, it was exciting." - -"I don't know what's come to them all. Everybody seems excited. There -was not excitement in Italy thirty years ago when I was with Sir Charles -and took four horses with only one helper from this very town to -Florence, sir." - -Cosmo with fixed eyes did not seem to hear Spire's complaining remark. -He exclaimed: "Really it was very extraordinary," so suddenly that Spire -gave a perceptible start. He pulled himself together and asked in a -purely business tone: - -"Are you going to dine in your room, sir? Time is getting on." - -Cosmo's mood too seemed to have changed completely. - -"I don't know. I am not hungry. I want you to move one of those screens -here near the fire and place a table and chair there. I will do some -correspondence to-night. Yes, I will have my dinner here, I think." - -"I will go down and order it, sir," said Spire. "The cook here is a -Frenchman who married a native and . . ." - -"Who on earth is swearing like this outside?" exclaimed Cosmo, while -Spire's face also expressed astonishment at the loud burst of voices -coming along the corridor, one angry, the other argumentative, in a -crescendo of scolding and expostulation which, passing the door at its -highest, died away into a confused murmur in the distance of the long -corridor. - -"That was an English voice," said Cosmo. "I mean the angry one." - -"I should think it's that English doctor from Tuscany that has been -three or four days here already. He has been put on this floor." - -"From what I have been able to catch," said Cosmo, "he seems very angry -at having a neighbour on it. That must be me. Have you heard his name?" - -"It's Marvel or some such name. He seems to be known here; he orders -people about as if he were at home. The other was Cantelucci, sir." - -"Very likely. Look here. Spire. I will dine in the public room -downstairs. I want to see that angry gentleman. Did you see him, Spire?" - -"Only his back, sir. Very broad, sir. Tall man. In boots and a riding -coat. Are you going down now, sir? The dinner must be on already." - -"Yes," said Cosmo, preparing to go out. "And by the by. Spire, if you -ever see in the street or in that room downstairs, where everyone comes -in and out as you say, a long fellow wearing a peculiar cap with a -tassel, just try to find out something about him; or at any rate let me -know when you have seen him. . . . You could perhaps follow him for a -bit and try to see where he goes." - -After saying those words Cosmo left the room before Spire could make any -answer. Spire's astonishment expressed itself by a low exclamation, -"Well, I never!" - - - - -PART II - - -I - - -Cosmo descended into a hall now empty and with most of its lights -extinguished. A loud murmur of voices guided him to the door of the -dining room. He discovered it to be a long apartment with flat pilasters -dividing its whitewashed walls, and resembling somewhat a convent's -refectory. The resemblance was accentuated by the two narrow tables -occupying its middle. One of them had been appropriated by the British -naval officers, had lights on it, and bristled with the necks of wine -bottles along its whole length. The talk round it was confused and -noisy. The other, shorter, table accommodated two rows of people in -sombre garments who at first glance struck Cosmo as natives of the town -and belonging to a lower station in life. They had less lights, less -wine, and almost no animation. Several smaller tables were ranged -against the walls at equal intervals, and Cosmo's eye was caught by one -of them because of the candles in the sconce on the wall above it having -been lighted. Its cloth was dazzlingly white, and Signor Cantelucci with -a napkin in his hand stood respectfully at the elbow of its sole -occupant, who was seated with his back to the door. - -Cosmo was under the impression that his entrance had been unobserved. -But before he had walked half the length of the room Signor Cantelucci, -whose eyes had never ceased darting here and there while his body -preserved its deferential attitude at the elbow of the exclusive client, -advanced to meet him with his serious and attentive air. He bowed. -Perhaps the signore would not mind sharing the table of his illustrious -countryman. - -"Yes, if my countryman doesn't object," assented Cosmo readily. He was -absolutely certain that this must be the doctor of whom Spire had -spoken. - -Cantelucci had no doubt that His Excellency's company would be most -welcome to his illustrious countryman. Then stepping aside, he added -under his breath: "He is a person of great distinction. A most valued -patron of mine. . . ." The person thus commended, turning his head -ensconced in the high collar of his coat, disclosed to Cosmo a round -face with a shaved chin, strongly marked eyebrows, round eyes, and thin -lips compressed into a slightly peevish droop which, however, was at -once corrected by an attempt at a faint smile. Cosmo, too, produced a -faint smile. For an appreciable moment they looked at each other without -saying a word while Cantelucci, silent too, executed a profound bow. - -"Sit down, sir, sit down," said the elder man (Cosmo judged him to be -well over forty), raising his voice above the uproar made by the -occupants of the naval table and waving his hand at the empty chair -facing his own. It had a high carved back showing some traces of -gilding, and the silk which covered it was worn to rags. Cosmo sat down -while Cantelucci disappeared and the man across the table positively -shouted, "I am glad," and immediately followed that declaration by an -energetic "Oh damn!" He bent over the table: "One can't hear oneself -speak with that noisy lot. All heroes, no doubt, but not a single -gentleman." - -He leaned back and waited till the outburst of noisy mirth had died out -at the officers' table. The corners of his mouth drooped again and Cosmo -came to the conclusion that face in repose was decidedly peevish. - -"I don't know what they have got to be so merry about," the other began, -with a slight glance at the naval table and leaning forward again -towards Cosmo. "Their occupation is gone. Heroes are a thoughtless lot. -Yet just look at that elderly lieutenant at the head of the table. -Shabby coat. Old epaulette. He doesn't laugh. He will die a -lieutenant--on half pay. That's how heroic people end when the heroic -times are over." - -"I am glad," said Cosmo steadily, "that you recognize at least their -heroism." - -The other opened his mouth for some time before he laughed, and that -gave his face an expression of somewhat hard jollity. But the laugh when -it came was by no means loud and had a sort of ingratiating softness. - -"No, no. Don't think I am disparaging our sea service. I had the -privilege to know the greatest hero of them all. Yes, I had two talks -with Lord Nelson. Well, he was certainly not . . ." - -He interrupted himself and raising his eyes saw the perfectly still gaze -of Cosmo fastened on his face. Then peevishly: - -"What I meant to say was that he at least was indubitably a hero. I -remember that I was very careful about what I said to him. I had to be -mighty careful then about what I said to anybody. Someone might have put -it into his head to hang me at some yard-arm or other." - -"I envy your experience all the same," said Cosmo amiably. "I suppose -your conscience was clear?" - -"I have always been most careful not to give my conscience any license -to trouble me," retorted the other with a certain curtness of tone which -was not offensive; "and I have lived now for some considerable time. I -am really much older than I look," he concluded, giving Cosmo such a -keen glance that the young man could not I help a smile. - -The other went on looking at him steadily for a while, then let his eyes -wander to a door in a distant part of the long room as if impatient for -the coming of the dinner. Then giving it up: - -"A man who has lived actively, actively I say, the last twenty years may -well feel as old as Methuselah. Lord Nelson was but a circumstance in my -life. I wonder, had he lived, how he would have taken all this." - -A slight movement of his hand seemed to carry this allusion outside the -confines of the vaulted noisy room, to indicate all the out-of-doors of -the world. Cosmo remarked that the hand was muscular, shapely, and -extremely well cared for. - -"I think there can be no doubt about the nature of his feelings if he -were living." Cosmo's voice was exactly non-committal. His interlocutor -grunted slightly. - -"H'm. He would have done nothing but groan and complain about anything -and everything. No, he wouldn't have taken it laughing. Very poor -physique. Very. Frightful hypochondriac. . . . I am a doctor, you know." - -Cantelucci was going to attend himself on his two guests. He presented -to the doctor a smoking soup tureen enveloped in a napkin. The doctor -assumed at once a business-like air, and at his invitation Cosmo held -out his plate. The doctor helped him carefully. - -"Don't forget the wine, my wine, Anzelmo," he said to Cantelucci, who -answered by a profound bow. "I saved his life once," he continued after -the innkeeper had gone away. - -The tone was particularly significant. Cosmo, partly repelled and partly -amused by the man, enquired whether the worthy host had been very ill. -The doctor swallowed the last spoonful of soup. - -"Ill," he said. "He had a gash that long in his side and a set of -forty-pound fetters in his legs. I cured both complaints. Not without -some risk to myself, as you may imagine. There was an epidemic of -hanging and shooting in the South of Italy then." - -He noticed Cosmo's steady stare and raised the corners of his mouth with -an effect of geniality on his broad rosy face. - -"In '99, you know. I wonder I didn't die of it too. I was considerably -younger then and my humane instincts, early enthusiasms, and so on had -led me into pretty bad company. However, I had also pretty good friends. -What with one thing and another I am pretty well known all over Italy. -My name is Martel--Doctor Martel. You probably may have heard. . . ." - -He threw a searching glance at Cosmo, who bowed non-committally, and went -on without a pause: "I am the man who brought vaccine to Italy, first. -Cantelucci was trying to tell me your name but really I couldn't make it -out." - -"Latham is my name," said Cosmo, "and I only set foot in Italy for the -first time in my life two days ago." - -The doctor jerked his head sideways. - -"Latham, eh? Yorkshire?" - -"Yes," said Cosmo, smiling. - -"To be sure. Sir Charles . . ." - -"That's my father." - -"Yes, yes. Served in the Guards. I used to know the doctor of his -regiment. Married in Italy. I don't remember the lady's name. Oh, those -are old times. Might have been a hundred years ago." - -"You mean that so much history has been made since." - -"Yes, no end of history," assented the doctor, but checked himself. "And -yet, tell me, what does it all amount to?" - -Cosmo made no answer. Cantelucci having brought the wine while they -talked, the doctor-filled two glasses, waited a moment as if to hear -Cosmo speak, but as the young man remained silent he said: - -"Well, let us drink then to Peace." - -He tossed the wine down his throat while Cosmo drank his much more -leisurely. As they set down their empty glasses they were startled by a -roar of a tremendous voice filling the vaulted room from end to end in -order to "let Their Honours know that the boat was at the steps." The -doctor made a faint grimace. - -"Do you hear the voice of the British lion, Mr. Latham?" he asked -peevishly. "Ah, well, we will have some little peace now here." - -Those officers at the naval table who had to go on board rose in a body -and left the room hastily. Three or four who had a longer leave drew -close together and began to talk low with their heads in a bunch. Cosmo -glancing down the room seemed to recognize at the door the form of the -seaman whom he had met earlier in the evening. He followed the officers -out. The other diners, the sombre ones, and a good many of them with -powdered heads, were also leaving the room. Cantelucci put another dish -on the table, stepped back a pace with a bow, and stood still. A moment -of profound silence succeeded the noise. - -"First rate," said Doctor Martel to Cosmo, after tasting the dish, and -then gave a nod to Cantelucci, who made another bow and retreated -backwards, always with a solemn expression on his face. - -"Italian cooking, of course, but then I am an old Italian myself. Not -that I love them, but I have acquired many of their tastes. Before we -have done dining you will have tasted the perfection of their cookery, -north and south, but I assure you are sharing my dinner. You don't -suppose that the dishes that come to this table are the same the common -customers get." - -Cosmo made a slight bow. "I am very sensible of the privilege," he said. - -"The honour and the pleasure are mine, I assure you," the doctor said in -a half-careless tone and looking with distaste towards the small knot of -officers with a twenty-four hours' leave who had finished their -confabulation and had risen in a body like men who had agreed on some -pleasant course of action. Only the elderly lieutenant lagging a little -behind cast a glance at his two countrymen at the little table and -followed his comrades with less eager movements. - -"A quarter of a tough bullock or half a roast sheep are more in their -way, and Cantelucci knows it. As to that company that was sitting at the -other table, well, I daresay you can tell yourself what they were, small -officials or tradesmen of some sort. I should think that emptying all -their pockets--and they were how many, say twenty--you couldn't collect -the value of one English pound at any given time. And Cantelucci knows -that too. Well, of course. Still he does well here, but it's a poor -place. I wonder, Mr. Latham, what are you doing here?" - -"Well," said Cosmo with a good-humoured smile, "I am just staying here. -Just as you yourself are staying here." - -"Ah, but you never saved Cantelucci's life, whereas I did and that's the -reason why I am staying here: out of mere kindness and to give him an -opportunity to show his gratitude. . . . Let me fill your glass. Not -bad, this wine." - -"Excellent. What is it?" - -"God knows. Let us call it Cantelucci's gratitude. Generous stuff, this, -to wash down those dishes with. Gluttony is an odious vice, but an -ambition to dine well is about the only one which can be indulged at no -cost to one's fellow men." - -"It didn't strike me," murmured Cosmo absently, for he was just then -asking himself why he didn't like this pleasant companion, and had just -come to the conclusion that it was because of his indecisive expression -wavering between peevishness and jocularity with something else in -addition, as it were, in the background of his handsome, neat, and -comfortable person. Something that was not aggressive nor yet exactly -impudent. He wondered at his mistrust of the personality which certainly -was very communicative but apparently not inquisitive. At that moment he -heard himself addressed with a direct inquiry. - -"You passed, of course, through Paris?" - -"Yes, and Switzerland." - -"Oh, Paris. I wonder what it looks like now. Full of English people, of -course. Let's see, how many years is it since I was last there? Ha, lots -of heads rolled off very noble shoulders since. Well, I am trying to -make my way there. Curious times. I have found some letters here. Duke -of Wellington very much disliked, what? His nod is insupportable, eh?" - -"I have just had a sight of the Duke two or three times," said Cosmo. "I -can assure you that everybody is treating him with the greatest -respect." - -"Of course, of course. All the same I bet that all these foreigners are -chuckling to themselves at having finished the job without him." - -"They needn't be so pleased with themselves," said Cosmo scornfully. -"The mere weight of their numbers . . ." - -"Yes. It was more like a migration of armed tribes than an army. They -will boast of their success all the same. There is no saying what the -Duke himself thinks. . . . I wonder if he could have beaten the other in -a fair fight. Well, that will never be known now." - -Cosmo had a sudden sense of an epical tale with a doubtful conclusion. -He made no answer. Cantelucci had come and gone solemnly, -self-contained, with the usual two ceremonial bows. As he retreated he -put out all the candles on the central table and became lost to view. -From the illuminated spot at which he sat, Cosmo's eyes met only the -shadows of the long refectory-like room with its lofty windows closely -shuttered so that they looked like a row of niches for statues. Yet the -murmur of the piazza full of people stole faintly into his ear. Cosmo -had the recollection of the vast expanse of flagstones enclosed by the -shadowy and palatial masses gleaming with lights here and there under -the night sky thick with stars and perfectly cloudless. - -"This is a very quiet inn," he observed. - -"It has that advantage certainly. The walls are fairly thick, as you can -see. It's an unfinished palace, I mean as to its internal decorations, -which were going to be very splendid and even more costly than splendid. -The owner of it, I mean the man who had it built, died of hunger in that -hall out there." - -"Died of hunger?" repeated Cosmo. - -"No doubt about it. It was during the siege of Genoa. You know the -siege, surely?" - -Cosmo recollected himself. "I was quite a child at the time," he said. - -The venerated client of Cantelucci cracked a walnut and then looked at -Cosmo's face. - -"I should think you weren't seven years old at the time," he said in a -judicial tone. "When I first came into Italy with the vaccine, you know, -Sir Charles's marriage was still being talked about in Florence. I -remember it perfectly though it seems as if it had all happened in -another world. Yes, indubitably he died of hunger like ten thousand -other Genoese. He couldn't go out to hunt for garbage with the populace -or crawl out at night trying to gather nettles in the ditches outside -the forts, and nobody would have known that he was dead for a month if -one of the bombs out of a bomb-vessel with Admiral Keith's blockading -squadron hadn't burst the door in. They found him at the foot of the -stairs, and, they say, with a lot of gold pieces in his pockets. But -nobody cared much for that. If it had been a lot of half-gnawed bones -there would have been blood spilt, no doubt. For all I know there were -or may be even now secret places full of gold in the thickness of these -walls. However, the body was thrown into a corpse-cart and the -authorities boarded the doorway. It remained boarded for years because -the heirs didn't care to have anything to do with that shell of a -palace. I fancy that the last of them died in the snows of Russia. -Cantelucci came along, and owing to a friendship with some sort of -scribe in the Municipality he got permission to use the place for his -hostelry. He told me that he found several half ducats in the corners of -the hall when he took possession. I suppose they paid for the whitewash, -for I can't believe that Cantelucci had much money in his pockets." - -"Perhaps he found one of those secret hiding-places of which you spoke," -suggested Cosmo. - -"What? Cantelucci? He never looked for any gold. He is too much in the -clouds; but he has made us dine well in the palace of the starved man, -hasn't he? Sixteen years ago in Naples he was a Jacobin and a friend of -the French, a rebel, a traitor to his king if you like--but he has a -good memory, there is no denying that." - -"Is he a Neapolitan, then?" asked Cosmo. "I imagined they were of a -different type." - -"God only knows. He was there and I didn't ask him. He was a prisoner of -the royalists, of the reactionaries. I was much younger then and perhaps -more humane. Flesh and blood couldn't stand in the sight of the way in -which they were being treated, men of position, of attainments, of -intelligence. The Neapolitan Jacobins were no populace. They were men of -character and ideas, the pick of all classes. They were properly -liberals. Still they were called Jacobins and you may be surprised that -I, a professional man and an Englishman . . ." - -Cosmo, looking up at the sudden pause, saw the doctor sitting with the -dull eyes and the expression of a man suddenly dissatisfied with -himself. Cosmo hastened to say that he himself was no friend of -reactionaries and in any case not conceited enough to judge the conduct -of men older than himself. Without a sign that he had heard a word of -that speech the doctor had a faint and peevish smile. He never moved at -all till, after a longish interval, Cosmo spoke again. - -"Were you expecting somebody that would want to see you this evening?" -he asked. - -The doctor started. - -"See me? No. Why do you ask?" - -"Because within the last five minutes somebody has put his head twice -through the door; and as I don't expect either a visitor or a messenger, -I thought he was looking for you. I don't know a single soul here." - -The doctor remained perfectly unmoved. Cosmo, who was looking towards -the distant door, saw the head again and this time shouted at it an -inquiry. Thereupon the owner of the head entered and had not advanced -half the length of the room before Cosmo recognized in him the portly -figure of Spire. To his great surprise, however. Spire instead of coming -up to the table made a vague gesture and stopped short. - -This was strange conduct. The doctor sat completely unconscious, and -Cosmo took the course of excusing himself and following Spire, who, -directly he had seen his master rise, had retreated rapidly to the door. -The doctor did not rouse himself to answer, and Cosmo left him leaning -on his elbow in a thoughtful attitude. In the badly lighted hall he -found Spire waiting for him between the foot of the stairs and the door -which Cosmo presumed was leading to the offices of the hotel. Again -Spire made a vague gesture which seemed to convey a warning, and -approached his master on tiptoe. - -"Well, what is it? What do you mean by flourishing your arm at me like -this?" asked Cosmo sharply, and Spire ventured on a warning "Ssh!" - -"Why, there is nobody here," said Cosmo, lowering his voice -nevertheless. - -"I wanted to tell you, sir, I have seen that fellow." - -"What fellow? Oh yes. The fellow with the cap. Where did you see him?" - -"He is here," said Spire, pointing to the closed door. - -"Here? What could a man like that want here? Did you speak to him?" - -"No, sir, he has just come in and for all I know he may be already gone -away--though I don't think so." - -"Oh, you don't think so. Do you know what he has come for?" - -Spire made no answer to the question, but after a short silence: "I will -go and see, and if you stand where you are, sir, you will be able to -look right into the room. He may not be the man." - -Without waiting for an answer he moved towards the closed door and threw -it wide open. The room, very much like the dining room but smaller, was -lighted gloomily by two smoky oil lamps hanging from the ceiling, over a -trestle table having a wooden bench on each side. Bad as the light was -Cosmo made out at once the peculiar cap. The wearer, sitting on one of -the benches, was leaning with both elbows across the table towards the -fair head of a girl half-hidden by a lace scarf. They were engaged in -earnest conversation so that they never turned their heads at Spire's -entrance. Cosmo had just time to discern the fine line of the girl's -shoulders, which were half-tinned from him when Spire shut the door. - - - - -II - - -Returning to his bedroom, Cosmo found the fire of logs still playing -fitfully upon the drawn curtains, upon the dim shape of the canopied bed -of state, and perceived that Spire as directed had prepared the writing -table and had placed a screen round the inviting-looking armchair. - -He did not sit down to write. He felt more than ever that in a moment of -amused expansion he had made a rash promise to his sister. The -difficulty in keeping it had confronted him for the first time in Paris. -Henrietta would have liked to hear of people he met, of the great world -indulging in the new-found freedom of travel, the English, the French, -the Poles, the Germans. Certainly he had seen quite a lot of people; but -the problem was as to what could be said about them to a young girl, -ignorant of the world, brought up in the country, and having really no -notion of what mankind was like. He admitted to himself with -introspective sincerity that even he did not exactly know what mankind -was really like. He was too much of a novice, and she, obviously, was -too innocent to be told of his suspicions and of what it was like. Even -to describe the world outwardly was not an easy task--to Henrietta. The -world was certainly amusing. Oh yes, it was amusing; but even as he -thought that, he felt within him a certain distaste. Just before he had -left Paris he had been at a rout given by a great lady. There was a -fellow there who somehow became suspected of picking pockets. He was -extremely ugly and therefore attracted notice. The great lady, asked if -she had invited him, denied ever having seen him before, but he assured -her that he had spoken to her already that evening. Her Ladyship then -declared that if he was really the man he gave himself out to be, she -was not aware that he was in Paris. She imagined him to be in Ireland. -Altogether a peculiar story. Cosmo never knew how it had ended because -his friend Hollis led him away to introduce him to Mrs. R., who was most -affable and entertained him with a complete inventory of her daughter's -accomplishments, the daughter herself being then in the room, obviously -quite lovely and clever, but certainly a little odd; for a little later, -on his being introduced, she had discoursed to him for half an hour on -things of the heart, charmingly, but in a perfectly cool and detached -manner. There was also Lady Jane, very much in evidence, very much run -after, with a voice of engaging sweetness, but very free, not to say -licentious, in her talk. How could he confide his impressions of her to -Henrietta? As a matter of fact his head had been rather full of Lady -Jane for some time. She had, so to speak, attended him all the way from -Paris up to the morning of his arrival at Cantelucci's inn. But she had -now deserted him. Or was it his mind that had dropped her out of a -haunting actuality into that region where the jumble of one's -experiences is allowed to rest? But was it possible that a shabby fellow -in tight breeches and bad boots, with a peculiarly shaped cap on his -head, could have got between him and Lady Jane about the time of sunset? - -Cosmo thought suddenly that one's personal life was a very bizarre -thing. He could write to his sister that before he had been three hours -in Genoa he had been involved in passing secret correspondence from -Italy to the Island of Elba. Henrietta had solemnly charged him to write -everything he could find out, hear, or even guess about Napoleon. He had -heard certainly a lot of most extraordinary stories; and if he had not -made any guesses he had been associating with persons who actually had -been doing nothing else; frightened persons, exulting people, cast-down -people, frivolous people, people with airs of mystery or with airs of -contempt. But by Jove, now he had been in personal touch and had -actually helped a man of the people who was mysteriously corresponding -with Elba. He could write something about that but, after all, was it -worth while? Finally he concluded he wouldn't write home at all that -evening; pushed the table away, and throwing himself into the armchair -extended his legs towards the fire. A moody expression settled on his -face. His immobility resembled open-eyed sleep with the red spark of the -fire in his unwinking eyes, and a perfect insensibility to outward -impressions. But he heard distinctly Spire knocking discreetly at the -door. Cosmo's first impulse was to shout that he wasn't wanted, but he -changed his mind. "Come in." - -Spire shut the door carefully, and crossing the room at once put a log -on the fire. Then he said: - -"Can't get any hot water this evening, sir. Very sorry, sir. I will see -that it won't happen again." - -At the same time he thought, "Served him right for picking out such an -inn to stay at." Cosmo, still silent, stared at the fire, and when he -roused himself at last he perceived Spire in the act of putting down in -front of his chair a pair of slippers of shiny leather and red heels. - -"Take your boots off, sir?" suggested Spire under his breath. - -Cosmo let him do it. "Going to bed now, sir?" asked Spire in the same -subdued tone. - -"No, but you needn't wait. I won't need you any more to-night." - -"Thank you, sir." Spire lingered, boots in hand. "The two small pistols -are on the bedside table, sir. I have looked to the primings. This town -is lull of rabble from all parts just now, so I hear. The lock of your -door is fairly poor. I shall be sleeping just outside in the corridor, -sir. They are going to put me a pallet there." - -"You will be very cold," protested Cosmo. - -"It will be all right, sir. I have got the fur rug out of the carriage. -I had everything taken out of the carriage. The yard isn't safe, sir. -Nothing is properly safe in this house, so far as I can see." - -Cosmo nodded absent-mindedly. "Oh, wait a moment, Spire. That man, that -fellow in the cap, is he still downstairs?" - -Spire thought rapidly that he wouldn't be a party to bringing any of -those ragamuffins up to the bedroom. "Gone a long time ago, sir," he -said stolidly. - -Cosmo had a vivid recollection of the man's pose of being settled for an -earnest and absorbing conversation to last half the night. - -"He doesn't belong to this house?" he asked. - -"No, sir, he only came to talk to a young woman. I left him taking leave -of her to come up to you, sir. I suppose he was the man you meant, sir." - -"Yes," said Cosmo, "I have no doubt about it. He will probably turn up -again." - -Spire admitted reluctantly that it was likely. He had been telling a -long tale to that young woman. "She is very good-looking, sir." - -"Is she a servant here?" - -"Oh no, sir. She came in with that old cut-throat cobbler. They seem to -be friendly. I don't like the looks of the people in this house." - -"I wonder," said Cosmo, "whether you could manage to obtain for me a -quiet talk with that man on the next occasion he comes here." - -Spire received this overture in profound silence. - -"Do you think you could?" insisted Cosmo. - -A dispassionate raising of the eyebrows preceded the apparently -irrelevant remark. "The worst of this house, sir, is that it seems open -to all sorts of rabble." - -"I see. Well, try to think of some way. Spire. You may go now." - -Spire, carrying the boots, walked as far as the door, where he turned -for a moment. "The only way I can think of, sir," he said, "would be to -make friends with that young woman." Before Cosmo could recover from the -surprise at the positive statement Spire had gone out and had shut the -door. - -Cosmo slept heavily but fitfully, with moments of complete oblivion -interrupted by sudden starts, when he would lie on his back with open -eyes, wondering for a moment where he was, and then fall asleep again -before he had time to make a movement. In the morning the first thing he -did was to scribble a note to the Countess Montevesso to ask her -permission to call that very morning. While writing the address he -smiled to himself at the idea that it was after all the little Adèle -whom he remembered but dimly, mostly as a fair head hovering near his -father's armchair in the big drawing room, the windows of which opened -on the western terrace. As a schoolboy during his holidays he saw the -two girls, Adèle and his sister, mostly in the evening. He had his own -out-of-door pursuits while those girls stayed upstairs with their -governess. Remembering how he used to catch glimpses of them, the fair -and the dark, walking in the Park, he felt a greater curiosity to see -the Countess de Montevesso than if he had never seen her before. He -found it impossible to represent her to himself grown up, married for -years, the daughter of an ambassador. - -When the family of D'Armand departed from Latham Hall, it was as if a -picture had faded, a picture of faces, attitudes, and colours, leaving -untouched the familiar background of his Yorkshire home, on to which he -could never recall them distinctly. He would be meeting a complete -stranger and he wondered whether that lady, who, young as she still was, -had lived through tragic times and had seen so many people, would -remember him at all. Him personally. For as to his home he had no doubt -she had not forgotten; neither the stones, nor the woods, nor the -streams. And as to the people Cosmo had a distinct notion that she was -more familiar with his father than he and Henrietta ever had been. His -father was not a man whom anybody could forget. And that Countess of -Montevesso, more difficult for him to imagine than a complete stranger, -would remember his mother better than he could himself. She had seen so -much more of her day after day for something like three years; whereas -he was at home only at intervals and while there took Lady Latham for -granted, a kind, serene presence, beautifully dressed. - -He handed the note to Spire with orders to send it off by one of the -ragged idlers about the hotel door. There would be an answer. Then, -approaching the window, he perceived that he could not see very much out -of it. It was too high above the piazza, which furthermore was masked by -the jutting balconies. But the sky was blue with a peculiar deep -brilliance and the sunlight slanted over the roofs of the houses on the -other side of the piazza. When he opened the window the keen pure air -roused his vitality. The faint murmur of voices from below reached him -very much as it had reached him downstairs the night before through the -closed shutters of the dining room, as if the population of the town had -never gone to bed. - -While Spire was serving his breakfast in his room he wondered what the -Countess of Montevesso would look like. The same fair head but higher -above the ground and with the hair no longer flowing over the shoulders, -but done up no doubt most becomingly and perhaps turned darker with age. -It would be the hair of the daughter of an ambassador, able to judge of -men and affairs, a woman of position, a very fine lady. Perhaps just a -fine lady; but the memory of the child came to him with renewed force, -gracious, quiet, with something timid and yet friendly in all its -gestures, with his father's hand smoothing the fair hair. . . . No. Not -merely a fine lady. - -Cosmo had no inborn aptitude for mere society life. Though not exactly -shy, he lacked that assurance of manner which his good looks and his -social status ought to have given him. He suspected there was too much -mockery in the world, and the undoubted friendliness he had met with, -especially from women, seemed to him always a little suspect, the effect -not of his own merit, of which he had no idea, but of a shallow, -good-natured compassion. He imagined himself awkward in company. The -very brilliance of the entertainments, of which he had seen already a -good many, was apt to depress his spirits. Often during talk with some -pretty woman he would feel that he was not meant for that sort of life, -and then suddenly he would withdraw into his shell. In that way he had -earned for himself the reputation of being a little strange. He was to a -certain extent aware of it, but he was not aware that this very thing -made him interesting. - -A gust of diffidence came over him while he was trying to eat some -breakfast. "I really don't want to see that Countess," he thought. Then -remembering the intonation in his father's voice when talking of Adèle, -he wondered whether perchance he would find an uncommon personality. -Cosmo had a profound belief in his father, though he was well aware that -he had never understood him thoroughly. . . . But if she is a woman out -of the common, he reflected further, then she can't possibly be -interested in a rough schoolboy grown into a young man of no particular -importance. No doubt she would be amiable enough. . . . - -"Clear away all these things. Spire," he said, "and go downstairs to see -if the messenger is back." - -The messenger was not back yet; and assisted by Spire, Cosmo began to -dress himself with extreme care. The tying of his neckcloth was an -irritating affair, and so was Spire's perfectly wooden face while he was -holding up the glass to him for that operation. Cosmo spoiled two -neckcloths and became extremely dissatisfied with the cut and colour of -various articles of attire which Spire presented to him one after -another. The fashions for men were perfectly absurd. By an effort of -mind Cosmo overcame this capricious discontent with familiar things and -finished his dressing. Then he sent Spire once more downstairs to -inquire if the messenger was back. Obediently, Spire disappeared, but -once gone it did not seem as though he meant to return at all. There was -no Spire. There was no bell-pull in the room either. - -Cosmo stuck his head out through the door. Absolute silence reigned in -the well of the stairs. A woman in black, on her knees beside a pail of -water and scrubbing the floor of the corridor, looked up at him. Cosmo -drew his head in. She was a pitiful hag. . . . He was sure of a gracious -reception, of course. He was also sure of meeting a lot of people of all -sorts. He wondered what sort of society she received. Everybody, no -doubt; Austrians, Italians, French; all the triumphant reactionaries, -all the depressed heads bobbing up again after the storm, venomous, -revengeful, oppressive, odious. What the devil had become of Spire? - -The long window right down to the floor had remained open. Suddenly the -sound of a drum reached Cosmo's ears. Stepping out on a balcony, he saw -a company of infantry in white coats marching across a distant corner of -the piazza. Austrians! Yes, their time had come. A voice behind him -said: "The messenger is back, sir." Cosmo stepped in and saw Spire -empty-handed. "There's a verbal answer, sir." - -"What is it? You haven't spoken with the messenger, have you?" - -"I have seen him, sir, but I got the message through the innkeeper. He -speaks a little English. The lady would be glad to see you as soon after -the fourth hour as possible. They have their own way of reckoning time, -but as far as I can understand it, sir, it means something between ten -and eleven. At any rate, it's what Cantelucci says, and he can tell the -time by an English watch all right." - -"Shut the window, Spire. I don't want to hear that drum. Yes, it would -mean as soon after ten as possible, but why has the fellow been so long? -Is it very far?" - -"No, sir, I think it's quite close, really. He was so long because he -has been trying to give your note to the lady herself and there was some -difficulty about it. That innkeeper tells me that instead of handing it -to the porter the fellow got in through the kitchen door and was dodging -about a passage for some time." - -Cosmo looked fixedly at Spire, whose face expressed no opinion whatever -on those proceedings. - -"Dodging in a passage," repeated Cosmo. "But did he see the lady -herself?" - -"Apparently not, sir. Cantelucci slanged him for being so long, but he -said he thought he was acting for the best. He would have been there yet -if a black woman hadn't come along and snatched the letter out of his -hand. It was she too who brought down the message from the lady." - -"Oh, yes," said Cosmo. "Don't you remember there was a black maid?" - -"Yes, sir, I remember perfectly well, in the house-keeper's room. She -learned to talk English very quickly, but she was a little spitfire." - -"Was she?" - -Spire busied himself in brushing Cosmo's hat while he remarked in an -explanatory tone: "She could never understand a joke, sir." - -He attended Cosmo into the hall, where Cantelucci with his usual intense -gravity and a deep bow asked whether the signore would want a carriage. -Cosmo, however, preferred walking; therefore the youth who had taken -Cosmo's note was directed to guide the English milord to the Palazzo -Brignoli. He had a tousled head of hair and wore a jacket that might -have belonged at one time to a hussar's uniform, with all its trimmings -and buttons cut off and a ragged hole in each elbow. His cheeks were -sunken, his eyes rolled expressively, and his smile discovered a set of -very sound teeth. - -"_Si, si_, Palazzo Rosso," he said. - -Cantelucci explained in his imperturbable and solemn manner that the -populace gave that name to the Palace on account of the red granite of -which it was built, and the thin-faced lad, bounding forward, preceded -Cosmo across the piazza, looking over his shoulder from time to time. -Cosmo's doubts and apprehensions disappeared before the inevitable charm -and splendour of the town. At the corner of a narrow lane and a small -open space with some trees growing in the centre of it the ragged guide -stopped and, pointing at a dark and magnificent building, left him -alone. Massive and sombre, ornate and heavy, with a dark aspect and -enormous carvings, the Palace where little Adèle was living had to -Cosmo's eye the air of a sumptuous prison. The portal with its heavy -iron-studded doors was reached by a flight of shallow steps, a segment -of a wide circle, guarded on each side by an enormous griffin seated, -tensely alert with wing and claw, on a high and narrow pedestal. On -ascending the steps Cosmo discovered that the heavy door was ajar, just -enough to let him slip in; and, at once, from the gloom of the arched -passage he saw the inner sunshine on the oleanders of the inner court, -flagged with marble, from whence a broad staircase ascended to the -colonnaded gallery of the first floor. - -Cosmo had seen no porter or other living soul, and there was no sound of -any sort, no appearance of movement anywhere. Even the leaves of the -oleanders kept perfectly still. In the light of the morning a slanting -shadow cut the western wall into two triangles, one dark, the other -glowing as with a red fire; and Cosmo remained for a moment spellbound -by a strong impression of empty grandeur, magnificence, and solitude. - -A voice behind him, issuing from somewhere in the big gateway through -which he had passed, cried: "Ascend, signore!" Cosmo began to mount the -open staircase, embarrassed as though he had been watched by thousands -of eyes. In the gallery he hesitated, for the several doors he could see -remained closed, and the only sound that reached his ears was the gentle -plashing of the fountain in the court below him. - -Before he had made up his mind the door in front of him opened fairly -wide, but he could not see the person till he had entered an anteroom -with narrow red and gilt settees ranged along its white walls. The door -shut behind him and, turning round, he confronted a dark, plump mulatto -woman who was staring at him with an expression of intense admiration. -She clapped her hands in ecstasy and, opening her mouth, exhibited her -white teeth in a low cackling laugh. - -"_Bonjour_, Aglae," said Cosmo readily. - -The woman laughed again in sheer delight. "You remember my name, Mr. -Cosmo! You quite frighten me, you grow so big. I remember you climb tree -and throw nice ripe apple to the black girl. . . ." Her eyes gleamed and -rolled absurdly. - -Cosmo was so strangely touched by this extremely slight reminiscence of -his tree-climbing boyhood, that when she added, "That was a good time," -he was quite ready to agree, thereby provoking another burst of -delightful laughter. But Aglae was controlling herself obviously. Her -laughter was subdued. It had not the unbounded freedom of sound that -used to reverberate exotically in the dark passages at the back of -Latham Hall; though there, too, Aglae tried to subdue it in view of -rebukes or sarcastic comments in the servants' hall. It stopped suddenly -and Aglae in a tone of sober respect wanted to know how the Seignior -was. Cosmo said that his father was very well. - -"He a very-great gentleman," commented Aglae. "I always tremble when I -see him. You very fine gentleman too, Mr. Cosmo." - -She moved to one of the inner doors, but as Cosmo was following her she -raised her hand to prevent him and opened the door only a little way, -then came back and said in a lower tone, "It's to hear the bell better -when it rings. . . . Will you wait a little bit here?" she asked -anxiously. - -"I will," said Cosmo, "but surely you don't want to tremble before me. -What is the matter?" - -"Nothing at all is the matter." Aglae tossed her head, tied up in a -bandana handkerchief, with something of the spirit of the old days. - -Cosmo was amused. "I no tremble before you," she continued. "I always -like you very much. I am glad with all my heart to see you here." - -All the time she turned her ear to the door she had left the least bit -ajar. She had on a high-waisted white calico dress, white stockings, and -Genoese slippers on her feet. Her dark brown hands moved uneasily. - -"And how is Madame la Comtesse?" asked Cosmo. - -"Miss Adèle very well. Anyway she never says anything else. She very -great lady now. All the town come here, but she wants to see you alone -after all these years." - -"It's very kind of her," said Cosmo. "I was wondering whether she -remembered me at all." - -Now the excitement of seeing him had worn off, he was surprised at the -careworn expression of the mulatto's face. For a moment it seemed to him -like a tragic mask, then came the flash of white teeth, strangely unlike -a smile. - -"She remember everything," said Aglae. "She . . . she . . . Mr. Cosmo, -you no boy now. I tell you that Miss Adèle had not a moment's peace -since she drive away from your big home in the country one very cold -day. I remember very well. Little birds fall dead off the tree. I feel -ready to fall dead myself." - -"I was away at school," said Cosmo. He remembered that on his return the -disappearance of those people had not produced a very strong impression -on him. In fact, the only thing he had missed was, in the evening, the -fair head of the stranger Adèle near the dark head of his sister -Henrietta. And the next evening he had not even missed that! - -While these thoughts were passing through his head he waited, looking at -Aglae with a faint smile of which he was not aware. The mulatto girl -seemed to have concentrated all her faculties on listening for the sound -of a bell. It came at last. Cosmo heard it, too, very distant, faint and -prolonged. A handbell. - -"Now," said Aglae under her breath, and Cosmo followed her through a -suite of rooms, magnificent but under-furnished, with the full light -excluded by half-closed jalousies. The vista was terminated by a white -and gold door at which Aglae stopped and looked back at him over her -shoulder with an air of curiosity, anxiety, or was it hesitation? But -certainly without a smile. As to his own it had stiffened permanently on -his lips. Before turning the handle of the door the mulatto listened for -a moment. Then she threw it open, disclosing a room full of light indeed -but which Cosmo could not see in its full extent because of a screen -cutting off the view. His last thought as he crossed the threshold was, -"It will be interesting," and then he heard the door shut behind him, -leaving him as it were alone with the heavy screen of figured velvet and -three windows through which sunshine poured in a way that almost blinded -him after his long experience of half lights. - -He walked clear of the screen, and he was surprised at the vast size of -the room. Here and there were other screens and a quite unexpected -quantity of elegant furniture amongst which he felt for a moment as if -lost. All this shone and gleamed and glowed with colour in the freshness -and brilliance of the sunny morning. "Why, there's nobody here," he -thought with a mingled sense of disappointment and relief. To his left -above a square of carpet that was like a flower-bed rose a white -mantelpiece which in its proportion and sumptuosity was like a low but -much carved portal surmounted by an enormous sheet of glass reaching up -to the cornice of the ceiling. He stepped on to the flowers, feeling now -somewhat vexed, and only then perceived away at the other end of the -room, in a corner beyond a fourth window, a lady seated at a writing -table with her back to him. Barred by the gilt openwork of the -chair-back he saw her dress, the only bit of blue in the room. There was -some white lace about her shoulders, her fair head was bent, she was -writing rapidly. - -Whoever she was she seemed not to be aware of his presence. Cosmo did -not know whether to wait in silence or say something, or merely warn her -by a slight cough. What a stupid position, he thought. At that moment -the lady put the pen down and rose from her chair brusquely, yet there -was a perceptible moment before she turned round and advanced towards -him. She was tall. But for the manner of his introduction, which could -leave no room for doubt, the impression that this could not be the lady -he had come to see would have been irresistible. As it was Cosmo felt -apologetic, as though he had come to the wrong house. It occurred to him -also that the lady had been from the very first aware of his presence. -He was struck by the profundity of her eyes, which were fixed on him. -The train of her blue robe followed on the floor. Her well-shaped head -was a mass of short fair curls, and while she approached him Cosmo saw -the colour leave her cheeks, the passing away of an unmistakable blush. -She stopped and said in an even voice: - -"Don't you recognize me?" - -He recovered his power of speech but not exactly the command of his -thoughts, which were overwhelmed by a variety of strong and fugitive -impulses. - -"I have never known you," he said with a tone of the profoundest -conviction. - -She smiled (Cosmo was perfectly sure that he had never seen that sort of -smile or the promise even of anything so enchanting), and sank slowly on -to a sofa whose brocaded silk, gray like pure ashes, and the carved -frame painted with flowers and picked with gold, acquired an -extraordinary value from the colour of her dress and the grace of her -attitude. She pointed to an armchair, close by. Cosmo sat down. A very -small table of ebony inlaid with silver stood between them, her hand -rested on it; and Cosmo looked at it with appreciation, as if it had -been an object of art, before he raised his eyes to the expectant face. - -"Frankly," he said, "didn't you think that a complete stranger had been -brought into the room?" - -He said this very seriously, and she answered him in a light tone. "For -a moment I was afraid to look round. I sat there with my back to you. It -was absurd after having been imprudent enough to let you come in the -morning. You kept so still that you might have been already gone. I took -fright, I jumped up, but I need not have hesitated. You are still the -same boy." - -Cosmo paid very little attention to what she said. Without restraint and -disguise, in open admiration he was observing her with all his might, -saying to himself, "Is it possible--this--Adèle!" He recollected -himself, however, sufficiently to murmur that men changed more slowly -and perhaps less completely than women. The Countess of Montevesso was -not of that opinion, or, at any rate, not in this case. - -"It isn't that at all. I know because I used to look at you with that -attention worthy of the heir of the Latham name, whereas you never -honoured the French girl by anything more than a casual glance. Why -should you have done more? You had the dogs, the horses, your first gun. -I remember the gun. You showed it to both of us, to your sister and -myself while we were walking in the park. You shouted to us and came -across the grass, brandishing your gun, while the governess--I don't -remember her name--screamed at you. Oh _mon dieu! N'approaches pas!_ You -paid not the slightest attention to her. You had a flushed face. Of -course her screaming frightened us at first, and just as we were -preparing to get very interested in your gun you walked off with a look -of contempt." - -"Did I behave so badly as that?" said Cosmo, feeling suddenly very much -at ease with that lady with whom he had never even exchanged a formal -greeting. She had grown more animated. As he was very fond of his sister -he answered her numerous questions about Henrietta with interest and -pleasure. From that subject the lady on the sofa, who may or may not -have been Adèle d'Armand at one time, went on putting a series of -questions about the house and all the people in it in a manner that -proved a precise and affectionate recollection of those days. The memory -of the countryside seemed to have been cherished by her too, and Cosmo's -heart warmed to the subject. She remembered certain spots in the park -and certain points of view in the neighbourhood as though she had left -them but a year before. She seemed not to have forgotten a single -servant in the house. She asked after Spire. - -"I have got him with me," said Cosmo. "Of course he has grown elderly." - -He almost forgot to whom he was speaking. Without associating her very -distinctly with the child Adèle, he was taking the Countess de -Montevesso for granted. He delighted in seeing her so quiet and so -perfectly natural. The first effect of her appearance persisted, with -only the added sense of the deep dark blue of her eyes, an impression of -living profundity that made his thoughts about her pause. But he was -unconsciously grateful to her for the fact that she had never given him -a moment of that acute social awkwardness from which he used to suffer -so much; though there could not be the slightest doubt that the little -Adèle (if there had ever been a little Adèle) was now a very fine lady -indeed. But she loved the old place and everything and everybody in it. -Of that too there could be no doubt. The few references she made to his -mother touched and surprised Cosmo. They seemed to imply some depth in -her which he, the son, and Henrietta, the daughter, had failed to -penetrate. In contrast with that, Cosmo remarked that after the inquiry -after Sir Charles's health, which was one of her first questions, his -father was not mentioned again. - -"Are you going to make a stay in Genoa?" she asked after a pause. - -"A few days," said Cosmo, in an irresolute tone, because he did not know -what answer was expected to this inquiry, the first which had nothing to -do with Yorkshire. His interest in the rest of Italy was, he perceived, -very small. But by the association of ideas he thought suddenly of the -passing hours. He raised his eyes to a faintly engraved brass disc with -black hands hung on the wall above one of the two doors at that end of -the room which he was facing. The black hands pointed to eleven, but -what prevented his eyes from returning at once to the delighted -contemplation of the Countess of Montevesso was the fact that the door -below the clock seemed to have moved slightly. - -"I intend to see something of Italy," he said. "My time really is my -own, I have nothing special to do. It seems to me that the principal -object of my journey has been attained now. I don't think my father -would be surprised to hear that I had turned back after leaving Genoa." - -The Countess looking up at this, their eyes remained fastened together -for a time and Cosmo thought: "What on earth am I saying?" He watched -her lips move to form the words which quite frightened him. - -"Did Sir Charles give you a message for me?" - -He thought he had brought this on himself. It was a painful moment. It -lasted long enough to give the Countess the time to assume an expression -of indifference, startling after the low tone of her question. - -"No," said Cosmo truthfully. "I have only a message for your father." He -waited a moment. "But I will tell you one of the last things Henrietta -told me. She told me that when you were married my father could think of -nothing for days but you." - -He did not venture to look at her; then added impulsively, "My father -loved you dearly. We children could see it very well. Ad----" - -"Why don't you finish my name?" her seductive voice asked. - -Cosmo coloured. "Well, you know, I never heard you really called by any -other name. It came naturally since I suppose you must be--Adèle." - -Madame de Montevesso, who had been hanging on his lips, was surprised by -Cosmo raising his eyes to stare intensely into the part of the room -behind her back. Just as he was making his apology he had noticed the -door under the clock swing open without any sound at all; and there -entered quite noiselessly, too, and with something ambiguous in the very -motion, a young girl (nothing could have been more unexpected) in a sort -of dishabille of a white skirt and a long pink jacket of some very thin -stuff which had a silky shimmer. She made a few steps and stopped. She -was rather short, her hair was intensely black and drawn tightly away -from her forehead. Cosmo felt sure (though he couldn't see) that it was -done in one long plait at the back. Her face was a short oval, her chin -blunt, her nose a little too big and her black eyes perfectly round. -Cosmo had the time to notice all this because astonishment prevented him -from looking away. The girl advanced slowly if with perfect assurance, -and stared unwinkingly at Cosmo, who in the extremity of his -embarrassment got up from his chair. The young girl then stopped short -and for a moment the three persons in the room preserved an absolute -immobility. Then the Countess glanced over her shoulder leisurely and -addressed Cosmo. - -"This is Clelia, a niece of my husband." Cosmo made a deep bow to the -possessor of the round black eyes. "I didn't know of her existence till -about a fortnight ago," added Madame de Montevesso carelessly. The -round-eyed girl still staring hard made a curtsey to Cosmo. "My -husband," went on Adèle, "has also two old aunts living here. I have -never seen them. This house is very big." - -Cosmo resumed his seat and there was a moment of silence. The girl sat -down in the chair before the writing table sideways, folded her arms on -its back, and rested her chin on her hands. Her round eyes examined -Cosmo with a sort of animal frankness. He thought suddenly that it was -time to bring his visit to an end. He would have risen at once but for -the Countess de Montevesso beginning to speak to him, still in English. -She seemed to have guessed what was passing through his mind. - -"Don't go yet for a moment," she said, in a perfectly unconcerned voice, -then paused. "We were talking about your father." - -"As to him," said Cosmo, "I have nothing more to say. I have told you -all the truth as far as I am certain of it." - -She inclined her head slowly and in the same level voice: - -"The Court is here and most of the foreign ambassadors. We are waiting -here for the arrival of the Queen of Sardinia, who may or may not come -within the next month or so. This is considered a good post of -observation, but there is very little to observe just now from the -diplomatic point of view. Most of us have exhausted almost all emotions. -Life has grown suddenly very dull. We gossip a little about each other; -we wait for the end of the Vienna Congress and discuss the latest rumour -that floats about. Yes. The play is over, the stage seems empty. If I -were you I would stay a little longer here." - -"I certainly mean to stay here for some time," declared Cosmo with -sudden resolution. - -"That's right," she continued in the same indifferent tone. "But wait a -few days before you write home. You have awakened old memories in me. -Inconceivably distant," she went on in a voice more expressionless than -ever, "and the dormant feelings of what seems quite another age." - -Cosmo smiled at this. The girl with round eyes was keeping perfectly -still with her watchful stare. Madame de Montevesso seemed to read -Cosmo's thoughts. - -"Yes," she insisted. "I feel very old and everything is very far. I am -twenty-six and I have been married very nearly ten years now." - -Cosmo, looking at her face, thought that those had been the most -agitated ten years of European history. He said, "I have no doubt that -Yorkshire must seem very far away to you." - -"I suppose you write very often home?" she said. - -Cosmo defended himself from being one of those people who write letters -about their travels. He had no talent for that; and then what could one -write to a young girl like Henrietta and to a man as austere as his -father, who had so long retired from the world? Cosmo had found it very -difficult. Of course he took care to let them know pretty often that he -was safe and sound. - -Adèle could see this point of view. She seemed amused by the innocent -difficulties of a young man having no one but a father and a sister to -write to. She ascertained that he had no intimate friend left behind to -whom he could confide his impressions. Cosmo said he had formed none of -those intimacies that induce a man to share his innermost thoughts and -feelings with somebody else. - -"Probably your father was like that too," said Madame de Montevesso. "I -fancy he must have been very difficult to please, and still more -difficult to conquer." - -"Oh, as to that," said Cosmo, "I can safely say I've never been -conquered," and he laughed boyishly. He confessed further that he had -the habit of thinking contradictorily about most things. "My father was -never like that," he concluded. - -The gravity with which she listened to him now disconcerted him -secretly. At last she nodded and opined that his difficulties had their -source in the liveliness of his sympathies. He declared that he suffered -most at times from the difficulty of making himself understood by men of -his own age. - -"And the women?" she asked quietly. - -"Oh, the women!" he said, without the slightest levity. "One would not -even try." He raised his eyes and, obeying a sudden impulse, added: "I -think that perhaps you could understand me." - -"That would be because I am so much older," she said. Cosmo discovered -in her delicately modelled face, with all its grace and freshness of -youth, an interrogative profundity of expression, the impress of the -problems of life and the conflicts of the soul. The great light of day -had treated her kindly. Bathed in the sunshine entering through the four -windows, she appeared to him wonderful in the glow of her complexion, in -the harmony of her form and the composed nobility of her attitude. He -felt this wonderfulness of her whole person in some sort physically, and -thought that he had looked at her too long. He glanced aside and met the -dark girl's round unwinking stare of a cat ready to fly at one. She had -not moved a hair's breadth, and Cosmo felt reluctant to take his eyes -off her exactly as though she had been a fierce cat. He heard the voice -of the Countess of Montevesso and had to turn to her. - -"Well, wait a few days before you write home about . . . Genoa." - -"I had a mind to begin a letter yesterday," he said. - -"What? Already! Only a few hours after your arrival!" - -"Yes. Henrietta is very anxious to hear everything relating to the -Emperor Napoleon." - -Madame de Montevesso was genuinely surprised. Her voice lost its equable -charm while she asked what on earth could he have had to tell of -Napoleon that he could not have written to her from Paris. - -"Yes. He is in everybody's thoughts and on everybody's lips there," he -said. "Whenever three people come together he is the presence that is -with them. But last night . . ." - -He was on the point of telling her of his adventure on the tower when -she struck in: - -"The Congress will put an end to all that presently." It checked Cosmo's -expansiveness and he said instead: - -"It's very possible. But last night on arriving here I experienced a -curious sensation of his nearness. I went down in the evening to look at -the Port." - -"He isn't certainly very far from here. And what are your feelings about -him?" - -"Oh," he rejoined lightly, "as about everything else in the -world--contradictory." - -Madame de Montevesso rose suddenly, saying: - -"I won't ask you, then, as to your feelings about myself." Cosmo stood -up hastily. He was a little the taller of the two but their faces were -nearly on a level. "I should like you to make up your mind about me -before you take up your traveller's pen," continued Adèle. "Come again -this evening. There will be a few people here; and, as you have said, -when a few people come together just now Napoleon is always with them, -an unseen presence. But you will see my father. Do you remember him at -all?" - -Cosmo assured her that he remembered the Marquis d'Armand perfectly. He -was on the point of making his parting bow when Madame de Montevesso, -with the two words "_à l'Anglaise_," put out her hand. He took it and -forgot himself in the unexpected sensation of this contact. He was in no -haste to release it when to his extreme surprise, with a slight movement -of her eyes towards the girl at the writing table, Madame de Montevesso -said: - -"Did you ever see anything like that?" - -Cosmo was taken completely aback. He dropped her hand. He did not know -what to say, and even if it was proper for him to smile. Madame de -Montevesso continued in a voice betraying no sentiment of any kind: "I -can never be sure of my privacy now. Do you understand that I am her -aunt? She wanders all over this palazzo very much like a domestic -animal, only more observant, and she is by no means an idiot. Luckily -she knows no language but Italian." - -They had been moving slowly towards the other end of the room, but now -Madame de Montevesso stopped and returned Cosmo's parting bow with a -slight inclination of her head. Before passing round the screen between -him and the door Cosmo glanced back. The girl on the chair had not -stirred. - -He had half a hope that the mulatto maid would be waiting for him. But -he saw no one. As he crossed the courtyard he might have thought himself -leaving an uninhabited house. But the streets through which he made his -way to his inn were thronged with people. The day was quite warm. -Already on the edge of the pavements, here and there, there was a -display of flowers for sale; and at every turn he saw more people who -seemed carefree, and the women with their silken shoes and the lace -scarves on their heads appeared to him quite charming. The plaza was a -scene of constant movement. Here and there a group stood still, -conversing in low voices but with expressive gestures. As he approached -his hotel he caught an evanescent sight of the man he had met on the -tower. His cap was unmistakable. Cosmo mended his pace but the man had -disappeared; and after looking in all directions Cosmo went up the steps -of the inn. In his room he found Spire folding methodically some -clothes. - -"I saw that man," said Cosmo, handing him his hat. - -"Was he following you, sir?" asked Spire. - -"No, I saw his back quite near this house." - -"I shouldn't wonder if he were coming here," opined Spire. - -"In any case I wouldn't have spoken to him in the piazza," said Cosmo. - -"Much better not, sir," said the servant. - -"After all," said Cosmo, "I don't know that I have anything to say to -him." - -From these words Spire concluded that his master had found something -more interesting to occupy his mind. While he went on with his work he -talked to Cosmo, who had thrown himself into an armchair, of some -repairs needed to the carriage, and also informed him that the English -doctor had left a message asking whether Mr. Latham would do him the -honour to take his midday meal with him at the same table as last night. -After a slight hesitation Cosmo assented, and Spire, saying that he -would go and tell them downstairs, left the room. - -In the solitude favourable to concentration of thought Cosmo discovered -that he could not think connectedly, either of the fair curls of the -Countess de Montevesso or of the vague story of her marriage. Strictly -speaking he knew nothing of it; and this ignorance interfered with the -process of consecutive thinking; but he formed some images and even came -to the verge of that state in which one sees visions. The obscurity of -her past helped the freedom of his fancies. He had an intuitive -conviction that he had seen her in the fullest brilliance of her beauty -and of the charm of her mind. A woman like that was a great power, he -reflected, and then it occurred to him that, marvellous as she was, she -was not her own mistress. - -Some church clock striking loudly the hour roused him up, but before he -went downstairs he paced the floor to and fro several times. And when he -forced himself out of that empty room it was with a profound disgust of -all he was going to see and hear, a momentary repulsion towards the -claims of the world, like a man tearing himself away from the side of a -beloved mistress. - - - - -III - - -Returning that evening to the Palazzo Brignoli, Cosmo found the lantern -under the vaulted roof lighted. There was also a porter in gold-laced -livery and a cocked hat who saluted him, and in the white anteroom with -red benches along the walls two lackeys made ready to divest him of his -cloak. But a man in sombre garments detained Cosmo, saying that he was -the ambassador's valet, and led him away along a very badly lighted -inner corridor. He explained that His Excellency the Ambassador wished -to see Monsieur Latham for a few moments in private before Monsieur -Latham joined the general company. The ambassador's cabinet into which -he introduced Cosmo was lighted by a pair of candelabra. Cosmo was told -that His Excellency was finishing dressing, and then the man -disappeared. Cosmo noticed that there were several doors besides the one -by which he had entered, which was the least conspicuous of them all, -and in fact so inconspicuous, corresponding exactly to a painted panel, -that it might have been called a secret door. Other doors were framed in -costly woods, lining the considerable thicknesses of the walls. One of -them opened without noise and Cosmo saw enter a man somewhat taller than -he had expected to see, with a white head, in a coat with softly -gleaming embroideries and a broad ribbon across his breast. He advanced, -opening his arms wide, and Cosmo, who noticed that one of the hands was -holding a snuffbox, submitted with good grace to the embrace of the -Marquis d'Armand, whose lips touched his cheeks one after another and -whose hands then rested at arm's length on his shoulder for a moment. - -"Sit down, _mon enfant_," were the first words spoken, and Cosmo obeyed, -facing the armchair into which the Marquis had dropped. A white meagre -hand set in fine lace moved the candelabra on the table, and Cosmo -good-humouredly submitted to being contemplated in silence. This man in -a splendid coat, white-headed and with a broad ribbon across his breast, -seemed to have no connection whatever with his father's guest, whom as a -boy he remembered walking with Sir Charles amongst deep shrubberies or -writing busily at one end of the long table in the library of Latham -Hall, always with the slightly subdued mien of an exile and an air of -being worried by the possession of unspeakable secrets which he -preserved even when playing at backgammon with Sir Charles in the great -drawing room. Cosmo, returning the gaze of the tired eyes, remarked that -the ambassador looked old but not at all senile. - -At last the Marquis declared that he could detect the lineaments of his -old friend in the son's face, and in a voice that was low and kindly put -a series of questions about Sir Charles, about London and his old -friends there; questions which Cosmo, especially as to the latter, was -not always able to answer fully. - -"I forget! You are still so young," said the ambassador, recollecting -himself. This young man sitting here before him with a friendly smile -had his friends amongst his own contemporaries, shared the ideas and the -views of his own generation which had grown up since the Revolution, to -whom the Revolution was only a historical fact and whose enthusiasms had -a strange complexion, for the undisciplined hopes of the young make them -reckless in words and sometimes in actions. The Marquis's own generation -had been different. It had had no inducement to be reckless. It had been -born to a settled order of things. Certainly a few philosophers had been -indulging for years in subversive sentimentalism, but the foundations of -Europe seemed unshakable. He noticed Cosmo's expectant attitude and -said: - -"I wonder what my dear old friend is thinking of all this." - -"It is not very easy to get at my father's thoughts," confessed Cosmo. -"After all, you must know my father much better than I do, Monsieur le -Marquis." - -"In the austerity of his convictions your father was more like a -republican of ancient times," said the Marquis seriously. "Does that -surprise you, my young friend? . . ." Cosmo shook his head slightly. . . . -"Yet we always agreed very well. Your father understood every kind of -fidelity. The world had never known him and it will never know him now. -But I, who approached him closely, could have nothing but the greatest -respect for his character and for his far-seeing wisdom." - -"I am very glad to hear you say this," interjected Cosmo. - -"He was a scornful man," said the Marquis, then paused and repeated once -more: "Yes. _Un grand dédaigneux._ He was that. But one accepted it -from him as one would not from another man, because one felt that it was -not the result of mean grievances or disappointed hopes. Now the old -order is coming back and, whatever my old friend may think of it, he had -his share in that work." - -Cosmo raised his head. "I had no idea," he murmured. - -"Yes," said the Marquis. "Indirectly if you like. All I could offer to -my Princes was my life, my toil, the sacrifice of my deepest feelings as -husband and father. I don't say this to boast. I could not have acted -otherwise. But for my share of the work, risky, often desperate, and -continuously hopeless as it seemed to be, I have to thank your father's -help, _mon jeune ami._ It came out of that fortune which some day will -be yours. The only thing in all the activities the penetrating mind of -your father was not scornful of was my fidelity. He understood that it -was above the intrigued, the lies, the selfish stupidities of that -exiles' life which we all shared with our Princes. They will never know -how much they owe to that English gentleman. When parting with my wife -and child I was sustained by the thought that his friendship and care -were extended over them and would not fail." - -"I have heard nothing of all this," said Cosmo. "Of course I was not -ignorant of the great friendship that united you to him. This is one of -the things that the world does know about my father." - -"Have you brought a letter for me?" asked the Marquis. "I haven't heard -from him for a long time. After we returned to France, through the -influence of my son-in-law, communications were very difficult. Ten -years of war, my dear friend, ten years." - -"Father very seldom takes a pen in hand now," said Cosmo, "but . . ." - -The Marquis interrupted him. "When you write home, my dear friend, tell -him that I never gave way to promptings of mean ambition or an unworthy -vanity. Tell him that I twice declined the Embassy of Madrid which was -pressed on me, and that if I accepted the nomination as a Commissioner -for settling the frontiers with the representatives of the Allied Powers -it was at the cost of my deepest feelings and only to serve my -vanquished country. My secret missions had made me known to many -European statesmen. I knew I was liked. I thought I could do some good. -The Russians, I must say, were quite charming, and you may tell your -father that Sir Charles Stewart clothed his demands in the form of the -most perfect politeness; but all those transactions were based after all -on the right of the strongest. I had black moments and I suffered as a -Frenchman. I suffered . . ." - -The Marquis got up, walked away to the other end of the room, then -coming back dropped into the armchair again. Cosmo was too startled by -this display of feeling to rise. The ambassadorial figure in the laced -coat exhaled a deep sigh. "Your father knows that, unlike so many of the -other refugees, I have always remained a Frenchman. One would have paid -any price almost to avoid this humiliation." - -Cosmo was gratified by the anxiety of a king's friend to, as it were, -justify himself before his father. He discovered that even this old -royalist had been forced, if only for a moment, to regret the days of -imperial victories. The Marquis tapped his snuffbox, took a pinch of -snuff, and composed himself. - -"Of course when this Turin mission was unexpectedly pressed on me I went -to the King himself and explained that, having refused a much higher -post, I could not think of accepting this one. But the King pointed out -that this was an altogether different position. The King of Sardinia was -his brother-in-law. There was nothing to say against such an argument. -His Majesty was also good enough to say that he was anxious to grant me -any favour I might ask. I didn't want any favours but I had to think of -something on the spur of the moment and I begged for a special right of -entrée on days on which there are no receptions. I couldn't resist so -much graciousness," continued the Marquis. "I have managed to keep clear -of prejudices that poison and endanger the hopes of this restoration, -but I am a royalist, a man of my own time. Remember to tell your father -all this, my dear young friend." - -"I shall not fail," said Cosmo, wondering within himself at the power of -such a strange argument, yet feeling a liking and respect for that old -man torn between rejoicing and sorrow at the end of his troubled life. - -"I should like him to know, too," the Marquis said in his bland and -friendly voice, "that M. de Talleyrand just before he left for Vienna -held out to me the prospect of the London Embassy later. That, -certainly, I would not refuse, if only to be nearer a man to whom my -obligations are immense and only equalled by the affection I had borne -towards him through all those unhappy years." - -"My father--" began Cosmo--"I ought to have given you his message -before--told me to give you his love and to tell you that when you are -tired of your grandeurs there is always a large place for you in his -house." - -Cosmo was surprised at the sudden movement of the Marquis, who leaned -over the arm of his chair and put his hand over his eyes. For a time -complete silence reigned in the room. Then Cosmo said: - -"I think somebody is scratching at the door." - -The Marquis sat up and listened, then raising his voice: "You may come -in." - -The man in black clothes, entering through the hidden door, stopped at -some distance in a respectful attitude. The Marquis beckoned him to -approach, and the man, bending to his ear, said in a low voice which -was, however, audible to Cosmo: "He is here." The Marquis answered in an -undertone, "He came rather early. He must wait," at which the man -murmured something which Cosmo couldn't hear. He became aware that the -Marquis looked at him irresolutely before he said: - -"My dear boy, you will have to make your entrance into my daughter's -salon together with me. I thought of sending you back the way you came, -but as a matter of fact the passage is blocked. . . . Bring him in and -let him sit here after we are gone," he directed the man in black, and -Cosmo only then recognized Bernard, the servant of proved fidelity in -all the misfortunes of the D'Armand family. Bernard withdrew without -responding in any way to Cosmo's smile of recognition. "In my position," -continued the Marquis, "I have to make use of agents more or less shady. -Those men often object to being seen. Their occupation is risky. There -is a man of that sort waiting in the corridor." - -Cosmo said he was at the Marquis's orders, but the ambassador remained -in the armchair, tapping the lid of his snuffbox slightly. - -"You saw my daughter this morning, I understand." Cosmo made an -assenting bow. Madame de Montevesso had done him the honour to receive -him in the morning. - -"You speak French very well," said the Marquis. "I don't really know why -the English are supposed to be bad linguists. We French are much worse. -Did you two speak French together?" - -"No," said Cosmo, "we spoke in English. It was Madame de Montevesso's -own choice." - -"She hasn't quite forgotten it, has she?" - -"It struck me," said Cosmo, "that your daughter has forgotten neither -the language nor the people, nor the sights of her early life. I was -touched by the fidelity of her memory and the warmth of her feelings." - -His own tone had warmth enough in it to make the Marquis look up at him. -There was a short pause. "None of us are likely to forget those days of -noble and infinite kindness. We were but vagrants on a hostile earth. My -daughter could not have forgotten! As long as there is anybody of our -name left . . ." - -The Marquis checked himself abruptly, but almost at once went on in a -slightly changed tone: "But I am alone of my name now. I wish I had had -a son so that gratitude could have been perpetuated from generation to -generation and become a traditional thing between our two families. But -this is not to be. Perhaps you didn't know I had a brother. He was much -younger than myself and I loved him as though he had been my son. -Directly I had placed my wife and child in safety, your father insisted -on giving me the means to return to France secretly in order to try and -save that young head. But all my attempts failed. It fell on the -scaffold. He was one of the last victims of the sanguinary madness of -that time. . . . But let us talk of something else. What are your plans, -my young friend?" - -Cosmo confessed that he had no plans. He intended to stay in Genoa for -some time. Madame de Montevesso had been good enough to encourage him in -that idea, and really there was such a feeling of leisure in the -European atmosphere that he didn't see why he should make any plans. The -world was enjoying its first breathing time. Cosmo corrected -himself--well no, perhaps not exactly enjoying. To be strictly truthful -he had not noticed much feeling of joy. . . . He hesitated a moment but -the whole attitude of the Marquis was so benevolent and encouraging that -he continued to take stock of his own sensations and continued in the -same strain. There was activity, lots of activity, agitation perhaps, -but no real joy. Or at any rate, no enjoyment. Not even now, after the -foreign troops had withdrawn from France and all the sovereigns of the -world had gone to Vienna. - -The Marquis listened with profound attention. "Are those your -impressions, _mon cher enfant?_ Somehow they don't seem very favourable. -But you English are very apt to judge us with severity. I hear very -little of what is going on in France." - -The train of his own thoughts had mastered Cosmo, who added, "What -struck me most was the sense of security . . ." he paused for an instant -and the ambassador, bending forward in the chair with the air of a man -attempting an experiment, insinuated gently: - -"Not such a bad thing, that sentiment." - -In the ardour of his honesty Cosmo did not notice either the attitude or -the tone, though he caught the sense of the words. - -"Was it of the right kind," he went on, as if communing with himself, -"or was it the absence of sound thought, and almost of all feeling? M. -le Marquis, I am too young to judge, but one would have thought, -listening to the talk one heard on all sides, that such a man as -Bonaparte had never existed." - -"You have been in the society of returned exiles," said the Marquis -after a moment of meditation. "You must judge them charitably. A class -that has been under the ban for years lives on its passions and on -prejudices whose growth stifles not only its sagacity but its visions of -the reality." He changed his tone. "Our present Minister of Foreign -Affairs never communicates with me personally. The only personal letter -I had from him in the last four months was on the subject of procuring -some truffles that grow in this country for the King, and there were -four pages of most minute directions as to where they were to be found -and how they were to be packed and transmitted to Paris. As to my -dispatches, I get merely formal acknowledgments. I really don't know -what is going on except through travellers who naturally colour their -information with their own desires. M. de Talleyrand writes me short -notes now and then, but as he has been himself for months in Vienna he -can't possibly know what is going on in France. His acute mind, his -extraordinary talents are fit to cope with the international situation, -but I suppose he too is uneasy. In fact, my dear young friend, as far as -I can judge, uneasy suspense is the prevailing sentiment all round the -basin of the Mediterranean. The fate of nations still hangs in the -balance." - -Cosmo waited a moment before he whispered, "And the fate of some -individual souls perhaps." - -The ambassador made no sound till after a whole minute had elapsed, and -then it was only to say: - -"I suppose that like many of your young and even old countrymen, you -have formed a project of visiting Elba." - -Cosmo at once adopted a conversational tone. "Half-formed at most," he -said. "I was never one of those who like to visit prisons and gaze at -their fellow beings in captivity. A strange taste indeed! I will own to -you, M. le Marquis," he went on boyishly, "that the notion of captivity -is very odious to me, for men, and for animals too. I would sooner look -at a dead lion than a lion in a cage. Yet I remember a young French -friend of mine telling me that we English were the most curious nation -in the world. But as you said, everybody seems to be doing Elba. I -suppose there are no difficulties." - -"Not enough difficulties," said the ambassador blandly. "I mean for the -good of all concerned." - -"Ah," said Cosmo, and repeated thoughtfully, "All concerned! The other -day in Paris I met Mr. Wycherley on his way home. He seemed to have had -no difficulty at all, not even in Elba. We had quite a long audience. -Mr. Wycherley struck me as a man of blunt feelings. Apparently the -Emperor--after all, the imperial title is not taken away from him -yet----" - -The Marquis lowered his head slowly. "No, not yet." - -"Well, the Emperor said to him: 'You have come here to look at a wild -beast,' and Mr. Wycherley, who doesn't seem to be at a loss for words, -answered at once: 'I have come here to look at a great man.' What a -crude answer! He is telling this story to everybody. He told me he is -going to publish a pamphlet about his visit." - -"Mr. Wycherley is a man of good company. His answer was polite. What -would have been yours, my young friend?" - -"I don't think I will ever be called to make any sort of answer to the -great man," said Cosmo. - -The Marquis got up with the words: "I think that on the whole you will -be wise not to waste your time. I have here a letter from the French -Consul in Leghorn quoting the latest report he had from Elba. It states -that Bonaparte remains shut up for days together in his private -apartments. The reason given is that he fears attempts on his life being -made by emissaries sent from France and Italy. He is not visible. -Another report states that lately he has expressed great uneasiness at -the movements of the French and English frigates." - -The Marquis laid a friendly hand on Cosmo's shoulder. "You cannot -complain of me; I have given you the very latest intelligence. And now -let us join whatever company my daughter is receiving. I think very few -people." He crossed the room, followed by Cosmo, and Cosmo noticed a -distinct lameness in his gait. At the moment of opening the door the -Marquis d'Armand said: - -"Your arm, _mon jeune ami._ I am suffering from rheumatism considerably -this evening." - -Cosmo hastened to offer his arm, and the Marquis with his hand on the -door said: - -"I can hardly walk. I hope I shall be able to go to the audience I have -to-morrow with the King of Sardinia. He is an excellent man but all his -ideas and feelings came to a standstill in '98. It makes all -conversation with him extremely difficult even for me. His ministers are -more reasonable, but that is only because they are afraid." - -A low groan escaped the ambassador. He remained leaning with one hand on -Cosmo's shoulder and with the other clinging to the door-handle. - -"Afraid of the people?" asked Cosmo. - -"The people are being corrupted by secret societies," the Marquis said -in his bland tone. "All Italy is seething with conspiracies. What, -however, they are afraid most of is the Man of Elba." - -Cosmo for an instant wondered at those confidences, but a swift -reflection that probably those things were known to everybody who was -anybody in Europe made him think that this familiar talk was merely the -effect of the Marquis's kindness to the son of his old friend. "I think -I can proceed now," said the Marquis, pushing the door open. Cosmo -recognized one of the rooms which he had passed in the morning. It was -the only one of the suite which was fully lighted by a great central -glass chandelier, but even in that only two rows of candles were -lighted. It was a small reception. The rest of the suite presented but a -dim perspective. A semi-circle of heavy armchairs was sparsely occupied -by less than a dozen ladies. There was only one card table in use. All -the faces were turned to the opening door, and Cosmo was struck by the -expression of profound surprise on them all. In one or two it resembled -thunderstruck imbecility. It didn't occur to him that the entrance of -the French King's personal representative leaning on the shoulder of a -completely unknown young man was enough to cause a sensation. A group of -elderly personages, conversing in a remote part of the room, became -silent. The Marquis gave a general greeting by an inclination of his -head, and Cosmo felt himself impelled towards a console between two -windows against which the Marquis leaned, whispering to him, "If I were -to sit down it would be such an affair to get up." The Countess de -Montevesso advanced quickly across the room. Cosmo noticed that her -dress had a long train. She smiled at Cosmo and said to the Marquis -anxiously: - -"You are in pain, Papa?" - -"A little. . . . Take him away, my dear, now. He was good enough to lend -me his shoulder as far as this." - -"_Venez_, M. Latham," said Adèle, "I must introduce you at once to Lady -William Bentick in order to check wild speculation about the appearance -of a mysterious stranger. As it is, all the town will be full of -rumours. People will be talking about you this very night." - -Cosmo followed Adèle across the room. She moved slowly and talked -easily with a flattering air of intimacy. She even stopped for a moment -under the great chandelier. "Lady William is talking now with Count -Bubna," she explained to Cosmo, who took a rapid survey of a tall, stout -man in an Austrian general's uniform, with his hair tied up in a queue, -with black moustaches and something cynical though not ill-natured in -his expression. That personage interrupted suddenly his conversation -with a lady, no longer very young, who was dressed very simply, and made -his way to the ambassador, giving in passing a faintly caustic smile and -a keen glance to Cosmo. - -"Let me introduce to you Mr. Cosmo Latham," said Adèle. "He is the son -of my father's very old friend. He and I haven't met since we were -children together in Yorkshire. He has just arrived here." - -Cosmo bowed, and in response to a slight gesture took a seat close to -the lady, whose preoccupied air struck him with a sort of wonder. She -seemed to have something on her mind. Cosmo could know nothing of the -prevalent gossip that it was only the black eyes of Louise Durazzo that -were detaining Lord William in Italy. He explained in answer to a -careless inquiry as to the latest news from Paris that he had been -travelling very leisurely and that he could not possibly have brought -any fresh news. Lady William looked at him as if she had not seen him -before. - -"Oh, I am not very much interested in the news, except in so far that -they may make a longer stay here unnecessary for us." - -"I suppose everybody wants to see the shape of the civilized world -settled at last," said Cosmo politely. - -"All I want is to go home," declared Lady William. She was no longer -looking at him and had the appearance of a person not anxious to listen -to anybody's conversation. Cosmo glanced about the room. The card game -had been resumed. The Austrian general was talking to the Marquis with -Madame de Montevesso standing close to them, while other persons kept at -a respectful distance. Lady William seemed to be following her own -thoughts with a sort of impassive abstraction. Cosmo felt himself at -liberty to go on with his observations, and sweeping his glance round -noticed, sitting half hidden by the back of the armchair Adèle had -vacated, the dark girl with round black eyes, whom he had seen that -morning. To his extreme surprise she smiled at him and, not content with -that, gave other plain signs of recognition. He thought he could do no -less than get up and make her a bow. By the time he sat down again he -became aware that he had attracted the notice of all the ladies seated -before the fire. One of them put up her eyeglasses to look at him, two -others started talking low together with side glances in his direction, -and there was not one that did not look interested. This disturbed him -much less than the fixed stare of the young creature, which became -fastened on him unwinkingly. Even Lady William gave him a short look of -curiosity. - -"I understand that you have just arrived in Genoa." - -"Yes. Yesterday afternoon late. This is my first appearance." - -He meant that it was his first appearance in society and he continued: - -"And I don't know a single person in this room even by name. Of course I -know that it is Count Bubna who is talking to the Marquis, but that is -all." - -"Ah," said Lady William with a particular intonation which made Cosmo -wonder what he could have said to provoke scepticism. But Lady William -was asking herself how it was that this young Englishman seemed to be -familiar with the freakish girl who was an object of many surmises in -Genoa, and whose company, it was understood, Count Helion of Montevesso -had imposed upon his wife. Meantime Cosmo, with the eyes of all the -women concentrated upon him with complete frankness, began to feel -uncomfortable. Lady William noticed it and out of pure kindness spoke to -him again. - -"If I understood rightly you have known Madame de Montevesso from -childhood." - -"I can't call myself really a childhood's friend. I was so much away -from home," explained Cosmo. "But she lived for some years in my -parents' house and everybody loved her there; my mother, my father, my -sister--and it seems to me, looking back now, that I too must have loved -her at that time; though we very seldom exchanged more than a few words -in the course of the day." - -He spoke with feeling and glanced in the direction of the group near the -console where the head of Adèle appeared radiant under the sparkling -crystals of the lustre. Lady William, bending sideways a little, leaned -her cheek against her hand in a listening attitude. Cosmo felt that he -was expected to go on speaking, but it seemed to him that he had nothing -more to say. He fell back upon a general remark. - -"I think boys are very stupid creatures. However, I wasn't so stupid as -not to feel that Adèle d'Armand was very intelligent and quite -different from us all. Her very gentleness set her apart. Moreover, -Henrietta and I were younger. To my sister and myself she seemed almost -grown up. A couple of years makes a very great difference at that age. -Soon after she went away we children heard that she was married. She -seemed lost to us then. Presently she went back to France, and once -there she was lost indeed. When one looked towards France in those days -it seems to me there was nothing to be seen but Napoleon. And then her -marriage, too. A Countess de Montevesso didn't mean anything to us. I -came here expecting to see a stranger." - -Cosmo checked himself. It was impossible to say whether Lady William had -heard him, or even whether she had been listening at all, but she asked: - -"You never met Count Helion?" - -"I haven't the slightest idea of the man. He is not in this room, is he? -What is he like?" - -Lady William looked amused for a moment at the artless curiosity of the -Countess de Montevesso's young friend; but it was in an indifferent tone -that she said: - -"Count Helion is a man of immense wealth which he amassed in India -somewhere. He is much older than his wife. More than twice her age." -Cosmo showed his surprise, and Lady William continued smoothly: "Of -course all the world knows that Adèle has been a model wife." - -Cosmo noted the faintest possible shade of emphasis on those last words -and thought to himself: "That means she is not happy and that the world -knows it." But, several men having approached the circle, the -conversation became general. He vacated his seat by the side of Lady -William and got introduced by Adèle to several people, amongst whom was -a delicate young woman splendidly dressed and of a slightly Jewish type -who, though she was the wife of General Count Bubna, commander-in-chief -of the Austrian troops and the representative of Austria at the Court of -Turin, behaved with a strange timidity and appeared almost too shy to -speak. A simple Madame Ferrati, or so at least Cosmo heard her name, a -lady with white tousled hair, had an aggressive manner. Cosmo remarked -in the course of the evening that she seemed rather to be persecuting -Lady William, who, however, remained amiably abstracted and did not seem -to mind anything. The Marquis, getting away from the console, had seated -himself near the little Madame Bubna. This, Cosmo thought, was an -unavoidable sort of thing for him to do. A young man with a grave manner -and something malicious in his eye, apparently a First Secretary of the -Embassy, informed Cosmo shortly after they had been made known to each -other that "the wife of the general would not naturally be received in -Vienna society," and that this was the secret of Bubna sticking to his -Italian command so long, even now when really all the excitement was -over. Of course he was very much in love with his wife. He used to give -her balls twice a week at the expense of the Turin Municipality. Old -Bubna understood the art of pillaging to perfection, but apart from that -he was a _parfait galant homme_ and an able soldier. Bonaparte had a -very great liking for him. Bubna was the only friend Bonaparte had in -this room. He meant sympathy as man for man. Years ago when Bubna was in -Paris he got on very well with the Emperor. Bonaparte knew how to -flatter a man. It was worth while to sit up half the night to hear Bubna -talking about Bonaparte. "I am posting you up like this," concluded the -secretary, "because I see you are in the intimacy of the Marquis and of -Madame de Montevesso here." - -He went away then to talk to somebody else, and presently Madame de -Montevesso, passing close to Cosmo, whispered to him, "Stay to the -last," and went on without waiting for his answer. Cosmo amongst all the -groups engaged in animated conversation felt rather lonely, totally -estranged from the ideas those people were expressing to each other. He -could not possibly be in sympathy with the fears and the hopes, strictly -personal, and with the royalist-legitimist enthusiasms of these -advocates of an order of things that had been buried for a quarter of a -century and now was paraded like a rouged and powdered corpse putting on -a swagger of life and revenge. Then he reflected that in this room, at -any rate, it was probably nothing but scandalous gossip and trivial talk -of futile intrigues. There was no need for him to be indignant. He was -even amused at himself, and looking about him in a kindlier frame of -mind he perceived that the person nearest to him was that strange girl -with the round eyes. She had kept perfectly still on her uncomfortable -stool like a captured savage. Her green flounced skirt was spread on -each side of the seat. The bodice of her dress, which was black, was cut -low, her bare arms were youthfully red and immature. Her hair was done -up smoothly and pulled up from her forehead in the manner of the -portraits of the 15th Century. - -"Why do they dress her in this bizarre manner?" thought Cosmo. It -couldn't be Adèle's conception. Perhaps of the Count himself. Yet that -didn't seem likely. Perhaps it was her own atrocious taste. But if so it -ought to have been repressed. He reflected that there could be nothing -improper in him talking to the niece of the house. He would try his -conversational Italian. With the feeling of venturing on a doubtful -experiment he approached her from the back, sat down at her elbow, and -waited. She could not possibly remain unaware of him being there. - -At last she turned her head for a point-blank stare, and once she had -her eyes on him she never attempted to take them away. Cosmo uttered -carefully a complimentary phrase about her dress, which was received in -perfect silence. Her carmine lips remained as still as her round black -eyes for quite a long time. Suddenly in a low tone, with an accent which -surprised Cosmo but which he supposed to be Piedmontese, and with a sort -of spiteful triumph, she said: - -"I knew very well it would suit me. You think it does?" - -Her whole personality had such an aggressive mien that Cosmo, startled -and amused, hastened to say, "Undoubtedly," lest she should fly at his -eyes. - -She showed him her teeth in a grin of savage complacency, and the -subject seemed exhausted. Cosmo set himself the task to daunt her by a -steady gaze. In less than two seconds he regretted his venture. He felt -certain that she would not be the one to look away first. There was not -the slightest doubt about that. In order to cover his retreat he let his -eyes wander vaguely about the room, smiled agreeably, and said: "Your -uncle is not here. Shall I have the pleasure of seeing him this -evening?" - -"No," she said. "You won't see him this evening. But he knows you have -been here this morning." - -This was, strictly speaking, news to Cosmo, but he said at once and with -great indifference: - -"Why shouldn't he? Probably Madame de Montevesso has told him. I used to -know your aunt when she was younger than you are, signorina." - -"How do you know how old I am?" - -Cosmo asked himself if she would ever wink those black eyes of hers. - -"I know that you are not a hundred years old." - -This struck her as humorous, because there was a sound as of a faint -giggle which, generally speaking, is a silly kind of sound but in her -case had a disturbing quality. It was followed by the hoarse -declaration: - -"Aunt didn't. I told Uncle. I looked a lot at you in the morning. Why -didn't you look at me?" - -"I was afraid of being indiscreet," said Cosmo readily, concealing his -astonishment. - -"What silliness," she commented scornfully. "And this evening too! I was -looking at you all the time and you did nothing but look at all those -witches here, one after another." - -"I find all the ladies in the room perfectly charming," said Cosmo. - -"You lie. I suppose you do nothing else from morning till night." - -"I am sorry you have such a bad opinion of me, but it being what it is, -hadn't I better go away?" - -"Directly I set eyes on you I knew you were one of that sort." - -"And did you impart your opinion of me to your uncle?" asked Cosmo. He -could be no more offended with that girl than if she had been an -unmannerly animal. Her peculiar stare remained unchanged but her general -expression softened for a moment. - -"No. But I took care to tell him that you were a very handsome -gentleman. . . . You are a very handsome gentleman." - -What surprised Cosmo was not the downright statement but the thought -that flashed through his mind that it was as dreadful as being told that -one was good to eat. For a time he stared without any thought of -unwinking competition. He was not amused. Distinctly not. He asked: - -"Where were you born?" - -"How can I tell? In the mountains, I suppose. Somewhere where you will -never go. How can it possibly concern you?" - -Cosmo offered his apology for his indiscretion, and she received it with -a sort of uncomprehending scorn. She said after a pause: "None of those -witches, young or old, ever speak to me. And even you didn't want to -speak to me. You only spoke to me . . . Oh, no! I know why you spoke to -me." - -"Why did I speak to you?" asked Cosmo thoughtfully. "Won't you tell me?" - -Upon the firm roundness of that high-coloured face came a subtle change -which suggested something in the nature of cunning, and the rough, -somewhat veiled voice came from between the red lips which had no more -charm or life than the painted lips carved in a piece of wood. - -"If I were to tell you would be as wise as myself." - -"Where would be the harm of me being as wise as yourself?" said Cosmo, -trying to be playful but somehow missing the tone of playfulness so -completely that he was struck by his failure himself. - -"If you were as wise as myself you would never come to this house again -and I don't want you to stay away," was the answer, delivered in a -hostile tone. - -Cosmo said, "You don't! Well, at any rate it can't be because of -kindness, so I don't thank you for it." He said this with extreme -amiability. Becoming aware that people were beginning to leave, he -observed, out of the corner of his eye, that nobody went away without -glancing in their direction. Then the departure of Lady William caused a -general stir and gave Cosmo the occasion to get up and move away. Lady -William gave him a gracious nod, and the Marquis, coming up to him, -introduced him at the last moment to General Count Bubna just as that -distinguished person was making ready to take his wife away. Everybody -was standing up and for the first time Cosmo felt himself completely -unobserved. Obeying a discreet sign of the Countess Montevesso, he moved -unaffectedly in the direction of a closed door, the white and gold door -he remembered well from his morning visit. When he had got near to it -and within reach of the handle he turned about. He had the view of the -guests' backs as they moved slowly out. Adèle looked over her shoulder -for a moment with an affirmative nod. He understood it, hesitated no -longer, opened the door, and slipped through without, so far as he could -judge, being seen by anybody. - -It was as he had thought. He found himself in Madame de Montevesso's -boudoir in which he had been received that morning. - - - - -IV - - -He shut the door behind him gently and remained between it and the -screen. He had expected to be followed at once by Adèle. What could be -detaining her? But he remembered the remarkable proportions of that -suite of reception rooms. He had seen some apartments in Paris, but -nothing quite so long as that. The old Marquis would no doubt conduct -the little Madame Bubna to the very door of the anteroom. The ambassador -of The Most Christian King owed that attention to the representative of -His Apostolic Majesty and Commander-in-Chief of the Austrian troops. -This was the exact form which his thought took. The Christian King, the -Apostolic Majesty--all those submerged heads were bobbing up out of the -subsiding flood. - -He pictured them to himself in their mental simplicity and with their -grand air; the Marquis magnificent and ageing, and the dutiful daughter -by his side with her radiant head and her divine form. It was impossible -to believe that these two had also been submerged at one time. - -All those people were mere playthings, reflected Cosmo without a pang. -But who or what was playing with them? he thought further, boldly, and -remained for a moment as if amused by the marvellousness of it, in the -manner of people watching the changes on the stage. But what could have -become of them? - -She might next moment be opening the door. Could she have made him stay -behind because she wanted to speak with him alone? Why, yes, obviously. -Cosmo did not ask himself what she wanted to talk to him about. It was -no wonder that he felt, it was a subtle emotion resembling impatience -for the arrival of a promised felicity of an indefinite kind. All this -was by no means poignant. It was merely delightfully disturbing. - -"I shall have a tête-à-tête; that's clear," he thought, as he -advanced into the room. The air all around him was delightfully warm. -Whatever she would have to say would be wonderful because of her voice. -He would look her in the face. She did not intimidate him and it was -impossible to have too much of that. After all, he thought, immensely -amused, it was only Adèle, Ad---- - -His mental monologue was cut short by the shock of perceiving, seated on -the painted sofa, a man who was looking at him in perfect silence and -immobility. The fact was that Count Helion, having come into the boudoir -sooner than his wife had expected him to do, had directed his eyes to -the screen ever since he had heard the opening and the shutting of the -door. One of his hands was resting on his thigh, the other hung down -holding negligently a number of some gazette which was partly resting on -the floor. Though not very big, that piece of paper attracted Cosmo's -eyes; and it was in this way that he became aware of the brown fingers -covered with rings, of the gaunt legs encased in silk stockings, and of -the crossed feet in dress shoes with gold buckles, almost before he took -in the impression of the broad but lean face which seemed to have been -stained with walnut juice long enough for the stain to have worn down -thin, letting the native pallor come through. The same tint extended to -the bald top of the head. But what was really extraordinary was the -hair: two patches of black behind each temple, obviously dyed. The man, -as to whose identity Cosmo could have no doubt, got up, displaying the -full length of his bony frame, in a tense and soldierly stiffness -associated with cross-belts and a cowhide knapsack on the back. "A -grenadier," thought Cosmo, startled by this unexpected meeting, which -also caused him profound annoyance, as though he had been induced to -walk into a trap. What he could not understand was why the man should -make that grimace at him. It convulsed his whole physiognomy, involving -his lips, his cheeks, and his very eyes in a sort of spasm. The most -awful thing was that it stayed there. . . . "Why, it's a smile," thought -Cosmo, with sudden relief. It was so sudden that it broke into a smile -without any particular volition of his own. Thereupon the face of Count -Helion recovered its normal aspect and Cosmo heard his voice for the -first time. It proceeded from the depths of his chest. It was resonant -and blurred and portentous with an effect of stiffness somehow in accord -with the man's bearing. It informed Cosmo that Count Helion had been -waiting in the Countess's boudoir on purpose to make his acquaintance, -while in the man's eyes there was a watchfulness as though he had been -uttering a momentous disclosure and was anxious as to its effect. A -perfectly horizontal, jet-black moustache underlining the nose of Count -Helion, which was broad at the base and thin at the end, suggested comic -possibilities in that head, which had too much individuality to be -looked upon by Cosmo simply as the head of Adèle's husband; and Cosmo -hardly looked at it in that light. His hold on that fact was slippery. -He preserved his equanimity perfectly and said that he himself had -wondered whether he would have the pleasure of making the Count's -acquaintance that evening. Both men sat down. - -"My occupations kept me late to-night," said the Count. "The courier -came in." - -He pointed with his fingers to the gazette lying on the floor, and Cosmo -asked if there were any news. - -"In the gazette, no. At least nothing interesting. The world is full of -vanities and scandals, rumours of conspiracies. Very poor stuff. I don't -know any of those people the papers mention every day. That's more my -wife's affair. For years now she has spent about ten months of every -year in Paris or near Paris. I am a provincial. My interests are in the -orphanage I have founded in my native country. I am also building an -asylum for . . ." - -He got up suddenly, approached the mantelpiece in three strides, and -turned round exactly like a soldier in the ranks of a company changing -front. He was wearing a blue coat cut away in front and having a long -skirt, something recalling the cut of a uniform, though the material was -fine and there was a good deal of gold lace about it, as also on his -white satin waistcoat. Cosmo recalled the vague story he had heard about -Count de Montevesso having served in more than one army before being -given the rank of general by the King of Piedmont. The man had been -drilled. Cosmo wondered whether he had ever been caned. He was a -military adventurer of the commonest type. Some of them have been known -to return with a fortune got by pillage and intrigue and possibly even -by real talents of a sort in the service of oriental courts full of -splendours and crimes, tyrannies and treacheries and dark drama of -ambition, or love. - -"He is the very thing," Cosmo exclaimed mentally, gating at the stiff -figure leaning against the mantelpiece. Of course he got his fortune in -India. What was remarkable about him was that he had managed to get away -with his plunder, or at any rate a part of it, considerable enough to -enable him to make a figure in the world and marry Adèle d'Armand in -England. That was only because of the Revolution. In royal France he -would not have had the ghost of a chance; and even as it was, only the -odious laxity of London society in accepting rich strangers had given -him his opportunity. Cosmo, forcing himself to envisage this dubious -person as the husband of Adèle, felt very angry with the light-minded -tolerance extended to foreigners characteristic of a certain part of -London society. It was perfectly outrageous. - -"Where the devil can my wife be?" - -Those words made Cosmo start, though they had not been uttered very -loudly. Almost mechanically he answered: "I don't know," and noticed -that Count Helion was staring at him in a curiously unintelligent -manner. - -"I was really asking myself," muttered the latter and stirred uneasily, -without however taking his elbow off the mantelpiece. "It's a natural -thought since we are, God knows why, kept waiting for her here. I wasn't -aware I had spoken. Living for many years amongst people who didn't -understand any European language--I had hundreds of them in my palace in -Sindh--I got into the habit of talking aloud, strange as it may appear -to you." - -"Yes," said Cosmo, with an air of innocence. "I suppose one acquires all -sorts of strange habits in those distant countries. We in England have a -class of men who return from India enriched. They are called nabobs. -Some of them have most objectionable habits. Unluckily their mere wealth -. . ." - -"There is nothing to compare with wealth," interrupted the other in a -soldierly voice and paused, then continued in the same tone of making a -verbal report: "When I was in England I had the privilege to know many -people of position. They were very kind to me. They didn't seem to think -lightly of wealth." - -Each phrase came curt, detached, but it was evident that the man did not -mean to be offensive. Those statements originated obviously in sincere -conviction; and after the Count had uttered them there appeared on his -forehead the horizontal wrinkles of unintelligent worry. Cosmo asked -himself whether the man before him was not really very stupid. Under the -elevated eyebrows his eyes looked worn and empty of all thought. - -"Lots of money, I mean," M. de Montevesso began again. "Not your savings -and scrapings. Money that one acquires boldly and enough of it to be -profuse with." - -"Is he going to treat me to vulgar boasting?" thought Cosmo. He wished -that Adèle would come in and interrupt this tête-à-tête which was so -very different from the one he had been expecting. - -"I daresay money is very useful," he assented, with airy scorn which he -thought might put an end to the subject. But his interlocutor persisted. - -"You can't know anything about it," he affirmed, then added -unexpectedly: "Money will give you even ideas. Lots of ideas. The worst -of it is that any one of them may turn out damnable. Well, yes. There is -of course danger in money, but what of that?" - -"It can scarcely be if it is used for good works, as you seem to use -it," said Cosmo with polite indifference. He meant it to be final, but -Count de Montevesso was not to be suppressed. - -"It leads one into worries," he said. "For instance, that orphanage of -mine, it is really a very large place. I am trying to be a benefactor to -my native province, but I want it to be in my own way. Well, since the -Restoration, the priests are trying to get hold of it. They want to turn -it to the glory of God and to the service of religion. I have seen -enough of all sorts of religions not to know what that means. No sooner -had the King entered Paris than the Bishop wrote to me pointing out that -there was no chapel and suggesting that I should build one and appoint a -chaplain. That Bishop is . . ." - -He threw up his head suddenly and Cosmo became aware of the presence of -Adèle without having heard even the rustle of her dress. He stood up -hastily. There was a short silence. - -"I see the acquaintance is made," said Adèle, looking from one to the -other. Her eyes lingered on Cosmo and then turned to her husband. "I -didn't know you would be already here. I had to help my father to his -room. I would have come at once here but he detained me." Again she -turned to Cosmo. "You will pardon me." - -"I found Count Helion here. I have not been alone for a minute," said -Cosmo. "You owe me no apologies. I was delighted to make your husband's -acquaintance, even if you were not here to introduce us to each other." - -This was said in English and Count Helion by the mantelpiece waited till -Cosmo had finished before he asked, "Where's Clelia?" - -"I have sent her to bed," said Countess de Montevesso. "Helion, my -father would like to see you this evening." - -"I am at the orders of M. le Marquis." - -The grenadier-like figure at the mantelpiece did not stir, and those -words were followed only by a slight twitch in the muscles of the face -which might have had a sardonic intention. "To-night, at once," he -repeated. "But with Mr. Latham here?" - -"Pray don't mind me, I am going away directly," said Cosmo. "It is -getting late." - -"In Italy it is never late. I hope to find you here when I return. As -the husband of a daughter of the house of D'Armand I know what is due to -the name of Latham. Am I really expected at once?" - -Adèle moved forward a step or two, speaking rapidly. "There has been -some news from Elba, or about Elba, which gives a certain concern to my -father. As you have been to the public knowledge in direct touch with -people from Elba my father would like to have your opinion." - -Count Helion changed his attitude, and leaning his shoulders against the -mantelpiece addressed himself to Cosmo. - -"It was the most innocent thing in the world. It was something about the -project for the exploitation of the Island of Pianosa. Napoleon sent his -treasurer here to get in touch with a banker. I am a man of affairs. The -banker consulted me--as a man who knew the spot. It's true I know the -spot, but if you hear it said that it is because of my relations with -the Dey of Algiers, pray don't believe it. I am in no way in touch with -the Barbary States." - -He made a step forward, and then another, and stood still. "You two had -better sit down and talk. Yes, sit down and talk. Renew the acquaintance -of your early youth . . . your early youth," he repeated in a faint -voice. "Those youthful friendships . . ." he made a convulsive grimace -which Cosmo had discovered to be the effect of a smile. "There is -something so charming in those youthful friendships. As to myself I -don't remember ever being youthful." He stepped out towards the door -through which Cosmo had seen Clelia enter that morning. "Let me find you -when I return, enjoying yourselves most sentimentally. Most delightful." - -His long stiff back swayed in the doorway and the door came to with a -crash. - -Cosmo and Adèle looked at each other with a smile. Cosmo, hat in hand, -asked just audibly, "I suppose I had better stay?" She made an -affirmative sign and, moving away from him, put her foot on the marble -fender of the fireplace where nothing was left but hot ashes hiding a -reddish glow. - - - - -V - - -Cosmo, ill at ease, remained looking at her. He was in doubt what the -sign she had made meant, a nervous and imperious gesture, which might -have been a command for him to go or to stay. In his irresolution he -gazed at her, thinking that she was lovely to an incredible degree and -that the word "radiant" applied to her extraordinary aptness. Light -entered into her composition. And it was not the cold light of marble. -"She actually glows," he said to himself, amazed, "like ripe fruit in -the foliage, like a big flower in the shade." - -"Don't gaze at my blushes," said Madame de Montevesso in an even tone -tinged with a little mockery and a little bitterness. "Would you believe -that when I was a girl I was so shy that I used to blush crimson -whenever anybody looked at me or spoke to me? It's a failing which does -not meet with much sympathy. And yet my suffering was very real. It -would reach such a pitch at times that I was ready to cry." - -"Shall I go away?" asked Cosmo in a deadened voice. He waited for a -moment while she seemed to debate in her mind the answer to the -question. In his fear of being sent away he went on: "God knows I don't -want to leave you. And after all the Count is coming back and . . ." - -"Oh, yes, he is coming back. Sit down. Yes. It would be better. Sit -down. . . ." Cosmo sat down where he could see her admirable shoulders, -the roundness of her averted head, _coiffée en boucles_ and girt with a -gold circlet, the shadowy retreating view of her profile. The long -drapery of her train flowed to the ground in a dark blue shimmer. . . . -"He is inevitable. He has always been inevitable," came further from her -lips which he couldn't see, for the mirror above the mantelpiece -reflected nothing but her forehead with the gold mist of her hair above. - -Cosmo remained silent. For nothing in the world would he have made a -sound. He held his breath with expectation; and in the extreme tension -of his whole being the lights grew dim around him, while her white -shoulders, the thick clustering curls, the arm on which she leaned, and -the other bare arm hanging inert by her side, seemed the only source of -light in the room. - -"You don't know me at all," began the Countess de Montevesso. "I don't -charge you with forgetting; but the little you may remember of me cannot -be of any use. It is only natural that I should be a stranger to you. -But you cannot be a stranger to me. For one thing you were a boy and -then you were not a child of outcasts without a country, of refugees -with a ruined past and with no future. You were a young Latham, as -rooted in your native soil as the old trees of your park. Even then -there seemed to me something enviable about you." - -She turned her head a little to glance at him. "You had no idea what it -was like after we had gone to London. My ignorance of the world was so -profound that I felt ill at ease in it. I hoped I had an attractive -face, but I only discovered that I was pretty from the remarks of the -people in the street I overheard. I spent my life by the side of my -mother's couch. I never went out except attended by my father or by -Aglae. My only amusement was to play a game of chess now and then with -an old doctor, also a refugee, who looked after my mother, or listen to -the conversation of the people who came to see us. Amongst them there -were all the prominent men and women of the old régime. Refugees. They -seldom spoke the truth to each other, and yet they were no more stupid -than the rest of the world. Nobody could be more good-natured and better -company, more frivolous or more inconsiderate. I have seen women of the -highest rank work ten hours a day to get bread for their children, but -they also slandered one another, told falsehoods about their conduct and -their work, and quarrelled among themselves in the style of washerwomen. -Morals were even looser than in the times before the Revolution. Manners -were forgotten. Every transgression was excused in those who were -regarded as good royalists. I don't mean this to apply to the great body -of the refugees. Some of them led irreproachable lives. Round our -Princes there were some most absurd intrigues. I didn't know much of all -this, but I remember my poor father's helpless indignations and my own -appalled disgust at the things I could not help hearing and seeing." - -She turned her head to look at Cosmo. "I am telling you all this to give -you some idea of the air I had to breathe," she said in a changed tone. -"I don't think it contaminated me. I felt its odiousness; but all this -seemed without remedy. I didn't even suffer much from it. What I -suffered most from was our domestic anxieties; my mother's fears lest -the small resources we had to live on should fail us altogether. Our -daily crust of bread seemed to depend on political events in Europe, and -they were going against us. Battles, negotiations, everything. A blight -seemed to have fallen on the royalist cause. My mother didn't conceal -her distress. What touched me more still was the careworn, silent -anxiety of my poor father." - -She paused, looking at Cosmo intently, meeting his eyes fixed on her -face. "I was getting on for sixteen," she continued. "No one ever paid -the slightest attention to me. The only genuine passion in my heart was -filial love. . . . But is it any good in going on? And then I can't tell -what you may have heard already." - -"All I have heard," said Cosmo in a tone of profound respect, "is that -Adèle de Montevesso's life has been irreproachable." - -"I remember the time when all the world was doing its best to make it -impossible. Would it shock you very much if I told you that I don't care -at all about its good opinion now? There was a time when it would put -the worst construction possible on my distress, on my bewilderment, on -my very innocence." - -"Why should the world do that to you?" asked Cosmo. - -"Why? But I see you know nothing. I met my husband first at a select -concert that was given by the music-master of the late Queen of France. -My mother was feeling a little better and insisted on my going out a -little. Those were small fashionable affairs. I had a good voice myself, -and that evening I sang with Madame Seppio. An English gentleman--his -name doesn't matter--presented M. de Montevesso to me as a friend of his -just returned from India and anxious to be introduced to the best -society. What with my usual shyness and the unattractive appearance of -the man, I don't think I received his attentions very well. There was -really no reason I should notice him particularly. It wasn't difficult -to see that he had not the manners of a man of the world. Where could he -have acquired them? He had left his village at seventeen, he enlisted in -the Irish Regiment which served in France, then he deserted, perhaps. I -only know that some years afterwards he was a captain in the service of -Russia. From there he made his way to India. I believe the -governor-general used him as a sort of unofficial agent amongst native -princes, but he got into some scrape with the company. By what steps he -managed to get on to the back of an elephant and command the army of a -native prince I really don't know. And even if I had known then it would -not have made him more interesting in my eyes. I was relieved when he -made me a deep bow with his hand on his heart and went away. He left a -most fugitive impression, but the very next morning he sent his English -friend to ask my parents for my hand. That friend was a nobleman, a man -of honour, and the offers he was empowered to make were so generous that -my parents thought they must tell me of them. I was so astonished that -at first I couldn't speak. I simply went away and shut myself up in my -room. They were not people to press me for an answer. The poor worried -dears thought that I wouldn't even consent to contemplate this marriage; -while I, shut up in my room--I was afraid, remembering the way they had -spoken to me of that offer, that they would reject it without consulting -me any further. I sent word by Aglae that I would give my answer next -day and that I begged to be left to myself. Then I escaped from the -house, followed by Aglae, who was never so frightened in her life, and -went to see the wife of that friend of my present husband. I begged her -to send at once for General de Montevesso--at that time he called -himself General. The King of Sardinia had given him this rank in -acknowledgment of some service that his great wealth had enabled him to -render to the Court of Turin. That lady of course had many scruples -about doing something so highly unconventional, but at last, overcome by -the exaltation of my feelings, she consented." - -"She did that?" murmured Cosmo. "What an extraordinary thing!" - -"Yes. She did that, instead of taking me home. People will do -extraordinary things to please a man of fabulous wealth. She sent out -two or three messengers to look for him all over the town. They were -some time in finding him. I waited. I was perfectly calm. I was calmer -than I am now, telling you my story. I was possessed by the spirit of -self-sacrifice. I had no misgivings. I remember even how cold I was in -that small drawing room with a big coal fire. He arrived out of breath. -He was splendidly dressed and behaved very ceremoniously. I felt his -emotion without sharing it. I, who used to blush violently at the -smallest provocation, didn't feel the slightest embarrassment in -addressing that big stiff man so much older than myself. I could not -appreciate what a fatal mistake I was committing by telling him that I -didn't care for him in the least and probably never should; but that if -he would secure my parents' future comfort my gratitude would be so -great that I could marry him, without reluctance and be his loyal friend -and wife for life. He stood there stiff and ominous and told me that he -didn't flatter himself with the possibility of inspiring any deeper -feeling. - -"We stood there facing each other for a bit. I felt nothing but an -inward glow of satisfaction at having, as I thought, acted honourably. -As to him I think he was simply made dumb with rage. At last he bowed -with his hands on his heart and said that he would not even ask now for -the favour of kissing my hand. I appreciated his delicacy at that -moment. It would have been an immense trial to my shyness. I think now -that he was simply afraid of putting my hand to his lips lest he should -lose his self-control and bite it. He told me later, in one of those -moments when people don't care what they say, that at that moment he -positively hated me, not the sight of me, you understand, but my -aristocratic insolence." - -She paused, and in the youthful sincerity of his sympathy Cosmo uttered -a subdued exclamation of distress. Madame de Montevesso looked at him -again and then averted her face. - -"I heard afterwards some gossip to the effect that he had been jilted by -a girl to whom he was engaged, the daughter of some captain on half-pay, -and that he proposed to me simply to show her that he could find a girl -prettier, of higher rank, and in every way more distinguished that would -consent to be his wife. I believe that it was this that prevented him -from drawing back before my frankness. As to me, I went home, seeing -nothing, hearing nothing, caring for nothing, as though I had done with -the world, as though I had taken the veil. I can find no other -comparison for the peace that was in me. I faced my mother's reproaches -calmly. She was of course very much hurt at my not confiding in her at -this crisis of my life. My father, too. But how could I have confided in -them in this matter on which their security and welfare depended? How -could I have confided in any of the men and women around me who seemed -to me as if mad, whose conduct and opinions I despised with youthful -severity as foolish and immoral? There was one human being in the world -in whom I might perhaps have confided, that perhaps would have -understood me. That was your father, Cosmo. But he was three hundred -miles away. There was no time. Tell me, did he understand? Has he cast -me out of his thoughts for ever?" - -"My father," said Cosmo, "has lived like a hermit for years. There was -nothing to make him forget you. Yes, he was a man in whom you could have -confided. He would have understood you. That doesn't mean to say that he -would have approved. I wish he had been by your side. He would have -brought pressure on your parents with the authority of an old and tried -friend." - -"And benefactor," struck in the Countess de Montevesso. "My father, I -believe, had an inkling of the truth. He begged me again and again to -think well of what I was doing. I told him that I was perfectly -satisfied with what I had done. It was perfectly true then. I had -satisfied my conscience by telling my suitor that I could never love -him. I felt strangely confident that I could fulfil the duties of my new -position, and I was absorbed by the happiness of having saved my parents -from all anxiety for the future. I was not aware of having made any -sacrifice. Probably if I had been twenty or more I would have been less -confident; perhaps I wouldn't have had the courage! But at that age I -didn't know that my whole life was at stake. Three weeks afterwards I -was married. - -"As you see, there was no time lost. During that period our intercourse -was of the most formal kind only I never even attempted to observe him -with any attention. He was very stiff and ceremonious, but he was in a -hurry, because I believe he was afraid from his previous experience that -I would change my mind. His usual answer to the expression of all my -wishes and to most of my speeches was a profound bow--and, sometimes, I -was amused. In the lightness of my heart a thought would come to me that -a lifetime on such terms would be a funny affair. I don't say he -deceived me in anything. He had brought an immense fortune out of India -and the world took him at its face value. With no more falsehood than -holding his tongue and watching his behaviour he kept me in the dark -about his character, his family, his antecedents, his very name. When we -first were married he was ostentatious and rather mean at the same time. -His long life in India added the force of oriental jealousy to that -which would be in a sense natural to a man of his age. Moreover, his -character was naturally disagreeable. The only way he could make the -power of his great fortune felt was by hurting the feelings of other -people, of his servants, of his dependents, of his friends. His wife -came in for her share. An older and cleverer woman with a certain power -of deception and caring for the material pleasures of life could have -done better for herself and for him in the situation in which I was -placed, but I, almost a child, with an honest and proud character and -caring nothing for what wealth could give, I was perfectly helpless. I -was being constantly surprised and shocked by the displays of evil -passions and his fits of ridiculous jealousy which were expressed in -such a coarse manner that they could only arouse my resentment and -contempt. - -"Meantime we lived in great style--dinner parties, concerts. I had a -very good voice. I daresay he was anxious enough to show off his latest -acquisition, but at the same time he could not bear me being looked at -or even spoken to. A fit of oriental jealousy would come over him, -especially when I had been much applauded. He would express his feelings -to me in barrack-room language. At last, one evening he made a most -scandalous scene before about two hundred guests, and then went out of -the house, leaving me to make the best of it before all those people. It -caused the greatest possible scandal. The party of course broke up. I -spent the rest of the night sitting in my bedroom, too overcome to take -off my splendid dress and those jewels with which he always insisted I -should bedeck myself. With the first signs of dawn he returned, and -coming up into my room found me sitting there. He told me then that -living with me was too much of a torture for him and proposed I should -go back to my parents for a time. - -"We had been married for a little over a year then. For the first time -since the wedding I felt really happy. They, poor dears, were delighted. -We were all so innocent together that we thought this would be the end -of all our troubles, that the man was chivalrous enough to have seen his -mistake in the proper light, and to bear the consequences nobly. Hadn't -I told him I could never love him, exactly in so many words? - -"I ought to have known that he was incapable of any generosity. As a -matter of fact I didn't think much about it. I, who had overcome my -shyness enough to become, young as I was, a perfect hostess in a world -which I knew so little--because after all that sort of thing was in my -tradition--I was really too stupid, too unsophisticated for those ten -months to have been a lesson to me. I had learned nothing, any more than -one learns from a nightmare or from a period of painful illness. I -simply breathed freely. I became again the old Adèle. I dismissed M. de -Montevesso from my thoughts as though he had never lived. Can you -believe this, Cosmo? It is astonishing how facts can fail to impress -one; brutalities, abuse, scenes of passion, mad exhibitions of jealousy, -as long as they do not attack your conception of your moral personality. -All this fell off me like a poisoned robe, leaving hardly a smart -behind. I raised my head like a flower after a thunderstorm. Don't think -my character is shallow, Cosmo. There were depths in me that could be -reached, but till then I had been only tormented, shocked, surprised, -but hardly even frightened. It was he who had suffered. But my turn was -to come." - -"I don't think you were ever a person of shallow feelings." - -"One's feelings must mature like everything else, and I assure you I had -not yet stopped growing. The next six months were to finish my -education. For by that time I had lost all my illusions. While I was -breathing freely between my father and mother, forgetting the world -around us, Montevesso was going about the town with his complaints and -his suspicions; regretting he had let me go and enraged that I should -have gone from him so easily. And you may be sure he found sympathizers. -A rich man, you understand! Who could refuse sympathy to so much wealth? -He was obviously a much ill-used man, all the faults of course were on -my side; in less than a month I found myself the centre of underhand -intrigues and the victim of a hateful persecution. Friends, relatives, -mere acquaintances in the world of emigration entered M. de Montevesso's -service. They spied on my conduct and tampered with the servants. There -were assemblies in his house where my character was torn to shreds. Some -of those good friends offered him their influence in Rome for the -annulation of the marriage, for a consideration of course. Others -discovered flaws in the marriage contract. They invented atrocious -tales. There were even horrid verses made about that scandal; till at -last he himself became disgusted with the wretches and closed his house -and his purse to them. Years later he showed me a note of their names -and the amounts paid for all those manifestations of sympathy. He must -have been impressed and disgusted by the retrospect, because it was a -big lot of money. As to the names, they were aristocratic enough to -flatter his plebeian pride. He showed the list to me just to hurt my -feelings. - -"Some sinners have been stoned, but I, an innocent girl of seventeen, -had been pelted with mud beyond endurance. It was impossible to induce -him to come to any sort of arrangement that would leave me in peace. All -the world, influenced by his paid friends, was against me. What could I -do? Calumnies are hard to bear. Harder than truth. Even my parents -weakened. He promised to make amends. Of course I went back to him, as -one would crawl out of the mud amongst clean thorns that can but tear -one's flesh. He received me back with apologies that were as nearly -public as such things can be. It was a vindication of my character. But -directly he had me with him again he gave way to his fits of hatred as -before, such hatred as only black jealousy can inspire. It was terrible. -For even jealousy has its gradations, coloured by doubts and hopes, and -his was the worst, the hopeless kind, since he could never forget my -honest declaration." - -The Countess of Montevesso's voice died out and then Cosmo looked up. -She was a little pale, which made her eyes appear darker than ever he -had seen them before. Cosmo was too young yet to understand the full -meaning of this confession, but his very youth invested the facts with a -sort of romantic grandeur, while the woman before him felt crushed by -the feelings of their squalid littleness. Without looking at him she -said: - -"We went travelling for a year and a half, stayed for a time in Paris, -where he began to make me scenes again, and then we went oh to Italy. -The pretext was to make me known to some of his relations. I don't -believe he could remember his mother, and his father, an old dealer in -rabbit skins, I believe, had died some time before. As to the rest, I -think his heart failed him notwithstanding the brutal pride he used at -times to display to me. He took me to see some decayed people living in -old ruined houses whom I verily believe he bribed to pass for his more -distant connections. It was a pilgrimage amongst the most squalid shams, -something that you cannot conceive, yet I didn't rebel against the -horrible humiliation of it. It was part of the bargain. Sometimes I -thought that he would kill me in one of those wild places in some lost -valley where the people, only a degree removed from peasants in their -dress and speech, fawned upon him as the wealthy cousin and benefactor. -I am certain that during those wanderings he was half distracted. It was -I who went through all this unmoved. But I don't suppose my life was -ever in any danger. At that time none of his moods lasted long enough to -let him carry out any definite purpose. And then he is not a man of -criminal instincts. After all, he is perhaps a great adventurer. He has -commanded armies of a hundred thousand men. He has in a sense faced the -power of England in India. The very fact that he had managed to get out -of it with so much wealth and with quite a genuine reputation shows that -there is something in him. I don't know whether it's that obtained for -him a very gracious reception from Bonaparte when he dragged me back to -Paris." - - - - -VI - - -Madame de Montevesso paused, looking at the white ashes in which the -sparks had not died out yet. "Yes," she went on, "I lived near Paris -through the whole time of the Empire. I had a charming house in the -country. Monsieur de Montevesso had established me in a style which he -considered worthy of himself if not of me. He could never forgive me for -being what I am. He was tolerated by the returned emigration for my -sake, but he grew weary of his own unhappiness and resolved to live by -himself in his own province where he could be a great personage. Perhaps -he is not altogether a bad man. He consented eagerly to my parents, who -had obtained permission to return to France, joining me in the country. -I tasted again some happiness in the peace of our semi-retired life and -in their affection. Our world was that of old society, the world of -returned nobles. They hated and despised the imperial power, but most of -them were ready to cringe before it. Yes, even the best were overawed by -the real might under the tinsel of that greatness. Our circle was very -small and composed of convinced royalists, but I could not share their -hatreds and their contempts. I felt myself a Frenchwoman. I had liberal -ideas. . . ." - -She noticed Cosmo's eyes fixed on her with eager and friendly curiosity, -and paused with a faint smile. - -"You understand me, Cosmo?" she asked. The latter gave a little nod -without detaching his eyes from the face which seemed to him to glow -with the light of generous feelings, but already Madame de Montevesso -was going on. - -"I did not want to be patronized by all those returned duchesses who -wanted to teach me how to feel and how to behave. Their own behaviour -was a mixture of insolence and self-seeking before that government which -they feared and despised. I didn't fear it but neither could I despise -it. My heart was heavy during all those years but it was not downcast. -All Europe was aflame and the blaze scorched and dazzled and filled one -with awe and with forebodings; but then one always heard that fire -purifies all which it cannot destroy. The world would perhaps come out -better from it." - -"Well, it's all over," said Cosmo, "and what has it done? The smoke -hangs about yet and I cannot see, but how do you feel?" - -Madame de Montevesso, leaning on her elbow on the mantelpiece, with one -foot on the fender, looked down at the ashes in which a spark gleamed -here and there. - -"I feel a little cold," she said, "and dazed perhaps. One doesn't know -where to look." - -Cosmo got up and made a step forward. His voice, however, was subdued. -"Formerly there was a man." - -"A man, yes. One couldn't help looking towards him. There was something -unnatural in that uniqueness, but do you know, Cosmo, the man was -nothing. You smile, you think you hear a royalist speaking, a woman full -of silly aristocratic prejudice; a woman who sees only a small Corsican -squire who hadn't even the sense to catch the opportunity by the hair as -it flew by and be the restorer of the Bourbon dynasty. You imagine all -that of me! . . . Of me!" - -She kept her pose, desolate, as if looking down at the ashes of a -burnt-up world. - -"I don't think you could be stupid if you tried," he said. "But if the -man was nothing, then what has done it?" - -Madame de Montevesso remained silent for a while before murmuring the -word "Destiny," and only then turned her head slightly towards Cosmo. -"What are you staring at in that corner?" she asked, after another -period of silence. - -"Was I staring?" he said with a little start. "I didn't know. Your words -evoked a draped figure with an averted head." - -"Then it wasn't that," she said, looking at him with friendly eyes. -"Whatever your fancy might have seen it was not Destiny. One must live a -very long time to see even the hem of her robe. Live a very, very long -time," she repeated in a tone of such weariness, tinged by fear, that -Cosmo felt impelled to step forward, take up the hand that hung by her -side, and press it to his lips. When released, it fell slowly to its -previous position. But Madame de Montevesso did not move. - -"That's very nice," she said. "It was a movement of sympathy. I have had -very little of that in my life. There is something in me that does not -appeal to the people with whom I live. My father, of course, loves me; -but that is not quite the same thing. Your father, I believe, -sympathized with the child and I am touched to see that the son seems to -understand something of the woman; of an almost old woman." - -Cosmo would have been amused at the tone of unaffected conviction in -which she called herself an old woman had it not been for the profound -trouble on that young face bent downwards, and at the melancholy grace -of the whole attitude of that woman who had once been the child Adèle; -a foreign, homeless child, sheltered for a moment by the old walls of -his ancestral home, and the sharer of its life's stately intimacies. - -"No," he said, marvelling that so much bitter experience should have -been the lot of such a resplendent figure. "No. Destiny works quickly -enough. We are both still young, and yet think of what we have already -seen." - -He fancied she had shuddered a little. He felt ashamed at the thought of -what she had lived through, how she had been affected in her daily life -by what to him had been only a spectacle after all, though his country -had played its part, the impressive part of a rock upraising its head -above the flood. But he continued: "Why, the Man of Destiny himself is -young yet. You must have seen him many times." - -"No. Once or twice a year I went to the Tuileries in the company of some -reconciled royalist ladies and very much against my wish. It was -expected from Madame de Montevesso and I always came away thankful to -think that it was over for a time. You could hardly imagine how dull -that Empire time was. All hopes were crushed. It was like a dreadful -overdressed masquerade with the everlasting sound of the guns in the -distance. Every year I spent a month with my husband to save -appearances. That was in the bond. He used then to invite all the -provincial grandees for a series of dinners. But even in the provinces -one felt the sinister moral constraint of that imperial glory. No doubt -all my movements were noticed and recorded by the proper people. -Naturally I saw the Emperor several times. I saw him also in theatres, -in his carriage driving about, but he spoke to me only once." - -"Only once!" exclaimed Cosmo under his breath. - -"You may imagine I tried to make myself as inconspicuous as possible, -and I did not belong to the Court. It was on the occasion of a ball -given to the Princess of Baden. There was an enormous crowd. Early in -the evening I found myself standing in the front row in the Galerie de -Diane between two women who were perfect strangers to me. By and by the -Court came in, the Empress, the Princess, the Chamberlains in full -dress, and took their place on a platform at the end. In the intervals -of dancing the Emperor came down alone, speaking only to the women. He -wore his imperial dress of red velvet, laced in all the seams, with -white satin breeches, with diamonds on the hilt of his sword and the -buckles of his shoes and on his cap with white plumes. It was a -well-designed costume but with his short thick figure and the clumsiness -of his movements he looked to me frightful and like a mock king. When he -came opposite me he stopped. I am certain he knew who I was, but he -asked me my name. I told him. - -"'Your husband lives in his province?' - -"'Yes, sire.' - -"'Your husband employs much labour, I hear. I am grateful to him for -giving work to the people. This is the proper use of wealth. Hasn't he -served in the English army in India?' - -"His tone was friendly. I said I didn't know that, but I did know that -he had fought against them there. - -"He smiled in a fascinating manner and said, 'That's very possible. A -soldier of fortune. He is a native of Piedmont, is he not?' - -"'Yes, sire.' - -"'But you are French, entirely French. We have a claim on you. How old -are you?' - -"I told him. He said, 'You look younger.' Then he came nearer to me and, -speaking in a confidential tone, said, 'You have no children. I know. I -know. It isn't your fault, but you should try to make some other -arrangement. Believe me, I am giving you good advice.' - -"I was dumb with astonishment. He gave me again a very gracious smile -and went on. That is the only conversation I ever had with the Emperor." - -She fell silent with downcast eyes, then she added: "It was very -characteristic of him." Cosmo was mainly struck by the fact that he knew -so little of her, that this was the first intimation he had of the -Montevessos being childless. He had never asked himself the question -before, but this positive if indirect statement was agreeable to him. - -"I did not make any other arrangements," began Madame de Montevesso with -a slightly ironic intonation. "I was only too thankful to be left alone. -At the time the Russian campaign began I paid my annual visit to -Monsieur de Montevesso. Except for the usual entertainments to local -people I was alone with Count Helion, and as usual when we were quite -alone he behaved in a tolerable way. There was nobody and nothing that -could arouse his jealousy and the dormant hatred he nurses for me deep -down in his heart. We had only the slight discussion, at the end of -which he admitted, gnashing his teeth, that he had nothing to reproach -me with except that I was what I was. I told him I could not help it and -that as things were he ought rather to congratulate himself on that -fact. He gave me only a black look. He can restrain himself wonderfully -when he likes. Upon the whole I had a quiet time. I played and sang to -myself, I read a little, I took long walks, I rode almost every day, -attended by Bernard. That wasn't so agreeable. You remember Bernard?" - -Cosmo nodded. - -"For years he had been a very devoted and faithful servant to us but I -suppose he, too, like so many of his betters, fell under the spell of -Monsieur de Montevesso's wealth. When my parents rejoined me in France -he had his wish at last and married Aglae, my mulatto maid. He was quite -infatuated with her and now he makes her terribly wretched. She is -really devoted to me, and there cannot be any doubt that Bernard has -been bribed by my husband to play the part of a spy. It seems incredible -but I have had it from the Count in so many words. Bernard let himself -be corrupted years ago, when M. de Montevesso first sent me back to my -parents in a rage and next day was nearly out of his mind with agony at -having done so. Yes, it dates as far back as that. That man so faithful -to us in our misfortunes allowed himself to be bought with the greatest -ease. Everybody, from the highest to the lowest, was in a conspiracy -against a poor girl whose only sin was her perfect frankness. When -Bernard came over to France with my parents I was already aware of this, -but Aglae wanted to marry him and so I said nothing. She probably would -not have believed me then." - -"And could you bear that wretch near you all those years?" exclaimed -Cosmo, full of indignation. She smiled sadly. She had borne the -disclosure and had kept the secret of greater infamies. She had all her -illusions about rectitude destroyed so early that it did not matter to -her now what she knew of the people about her. - -"Oh, Cosmo," she exclaimed suddenly, "I am a hardened woman now, but I -assure you that sometimes when I remember the girl of sixteen I was, -without an evil thought in her head and in her ignorance surrounded by -the basest slanderers and intrigues, tears come into my eyes. And since -the baseness of selfish passions I have seen seething round the -detestable glory of that man in Elba, it seems to me that there is -nowhere any honesty on earth--nowhere!" The energy of that outburst, -contrasted with the immobility of the pose, gave to Cosmo the sensation -of a chill. - -"I will not mention us two," said Cosmo, "herein this room. But I know -of at least two honest men on earth. They are your father and mine. Why -didn't you write to Father, Adèle?" - -"I tell you I was a child. What could I write to him? Hasn't he retired -out of the world for so many years only not to see and not to hear? -That's one of your honest men. And as to my poor father, who is the soul -of honour, such is the effect of long misfortune on the best characters -and of temptations associated with his restored rank, that there have -been moments when I watched his conduct with dread. Caste prejudices are -an awful thing, but thank God he had never a thought of vengeance in his -mind. He is not a courtier." - -"I have heard about it," interrupted Cosmo, "from the Marquis himself. -He is a dear old man." - -The two by the mantelpiece exchanged dim smiles. - -"I had to come here with him," said Adèle. "He cannot do without me. I -too was glad to get away from the evil passions and the hopeless -stupidities of all the people that had come back without a single -patriotic feeling, without a single new idea in their heads, like -merciless spectres out of a grave, hating the world to which they had -returned. They had forgotten nothing and learned nothing." - -"I have seen something of that myself," murmured Cosmo. "But the world -can't be put back where it was before you and I were born." - -"No! But to see them trying to do it was intolerable. Then my husband -appeared on the scene, hired this Palazzo, and insisted on us all living -here. It was impossible to raise a rational objection to that. Father -was never aware of half I went through in my life. I learned early to -suppress every expression of feeling. But in the main we understand each -other without talking. When he received Count Helion's letter offering -us this house he just looked at me and said, 'I suppose we must.' For my -part, I go through life without raising any objections to anything. One -has to preserve one's dignity in some way; and is there another way open -to me? Yes, I have made up my mind; but I must tell you, Cosmo, that -notwithstanding that amazing tour we made ten years ago amongst M. de -Montevesso's problematic relations, those two sisters and that niece -have been a perfect novelty to me. I only hope I never betrayed my -surprise or any feeling at all about it." The Countess raised her eyes -to Cosmo's face. "I have spoken of it to you as I have never spoken to -anybody in my life, because of old memories which are so much to me and -because I could not mistrust anybody of your name. Have you been wearied -by this long tale?" - -"No," said Cosmo. "But have you thought how it is going to end?" - -"To end?" she said in a startled tone which affected Cosmo profoundly. -"To end? What do you mean? Everything is ended already." - -"I was thinking of your endurance," said Cosmo. - -"Do I look worn out?" she asked. - -Cosmo raised his head and looked at her steadily. The impression of her -grace and her strength filled his breast with an admiring and almost -oppressive emotion. He could find nothing to say, not knowing what was -uppermost in his mind, pity or admiration, mingled with a vague anger. - -"Well, what do you see in my face?" - -"I never have seen such serenity on any face," said Cosmo. "How sure of -itself your soul must be!" - -Her colour became heightened for a moment, her eyes darkened as she said -in a grateful tone, "You are right, Cosmo. My face is not a mask." - -But he hardly heard her. He was lost in wonder at the sudden disorder of -his thoughts. When he regained his mental composure he noticed that -Madame de Montevesso seemed to be listening. - -"I wonder whether the Count is still with my father," she said. "Ring -that bell on the table at your hand, Cosmo." - -Cosmo did so and they waited, looking at each other. Presently the door -swung open, and at the same time the cartel above it began to strike the -hour. Cosmo counted eleven and then Madame de Montevesso spoke to -Bernard, who waited in silence. - -"Is M. le Comte still with my father?" - -"I haven't seen him come out yet, Madame la Comtesse." - -"Tell your wife not to wait for me, Bernard." - -"Yes, Madame la Comtesse." Bernard backed out respectfully through the -door. - -"How fat he is, and what sleek hair," marvelled Cosmo. "And what a -solemn manner. No wonder I did not recognize him at once. He showed me -into your father's room, you know. He looks a Special Envoy's -confidential man all over. And to think that he is your household spy! I -wonder at your patience." - -"Perhaps if I had anything to conceal I would have had less patience -with the spy," she said, equably. "I believe that when we lived in Paris -he wrote every week to M. de Montevesso, because, you know, he can write -quite well. I wonder what he found to write about. Lists of names, I -suppose. Or perhaps his own views of the people who called with bits of -overheard conversations." - -"It's incredible," murmured Cosmo. "It's fantastic. What contempt he -must have for your husband." - -"The most remarkable thing," said Madame de Montevesso, "is that I am -convinced that he doesn't write any lies." - -"Yes," said Cosmo, "I assume that. And do you mean that the Count is -paying him every week for that sort of thing. It's an ugly farce." - -"Don't you think," said the Countess, "that something serious may come -of it some day?" Cosmo made a hopeless gesture. - -"The man you married is mad," he said with intense conviction. - -"There have been times when I felt as if I were mad myself," murmured -Madame de Montevesso. "Take up your hat," she added quickly. - -She had heard footsteps outside the door. A moment after, Count Helion -came in and fixed his black glance on his wife and Cosmo. He did not -open his lips and remained ominously by the door for a time. The strain -of the silence was made sinister by the stiff bearing of the man, the -immobility of the carven brown face, crossed by the inky-black moustache -in harsh contrast with the powdered head. He might have been a sergeant -come at the stroke of the hour to tell those two people that the firing -squad was waiting for them outside the door. Madame de Montevesso broke -the dumb spell. - -"I did my best to entertain Mr. Latham, but we had given you up. He was -just going." - -She glanced serenely at Cosmo, whom the sweetness of her tone, her easy -self-possession before that barrack-room figure, stung to the heart. At -that moment no words could have expressed the intensity of his hatred -for the Count of Montevesso, at whom he was looking with a smile of the -utmost banality. The latter moved forward stiffly. - -"Your father hopes you will see him for a moment presently," he said to -his wife. "He has not gone to bed yet." - -"Then I will go to him at once." - -Madame de Montevesso extended her hand to Cosmo, who raised the tips of -her fingers to his lips ceremoniously. - -"I will see Mr. Latham out," said the Count, bowing to his wife, who -went out of the room without looking at him. Cosmo, following her with -his eyes, forgot Count Helion's existence. He forgot it so thoroughly -that it was with a perceptible start that he perceived the Count's eyes -fixed on him in an odd way. "He will never look at ease anywhere," -thought Cosmo scornfully. A great part of his hatred had evaporated. "I -suppose he means to be pilot. I wonder how he looked on the back of an -elephant." - -"It was very good of you to wait so long for my return," said Count -Helion. "I have been detained by an absurd discussion arising out of -probably false reports." - -"The time passed quickly," said truthful Cosmo; but, before the black -weary glance of the other, hastened to add with assumed care, "We talked -of old times." - -"Old times," repeated Count Helion without any particular accent. "My -wife is very young yet, though she must be older than you are. Isn't she -older?" - -Cosmo said curtly that he really did not know. When they were running -about as children together she was the tallest of the three. - -"And now," took up the inexpressive voice of Count de Montevesso, -"without her high heels she would be a little shorter than you. As you -stood together you looked to me exactly the same height. And so you -renewed the memories of your youth. They must have been delightful." - -"They were no doubt more delightful for me than they could have been for -Mme. la Comtesse," said Cosmo, making a motion towards taking leave. - -"A moment. Let me have the honour to see you out." Count Helion walked -round the room blowing out the candles in three candelabras in -succession and taking up the fourth in his hand. - -"Why take this trouble?" protested Cosmo. "I know my way." - -"Every light has been extinguished in the reception rooms; or at least -ought to have been. I detest waste of all kinds. It is perhaps because I -have made my own fortune, and by God's favour it is so considerable in -its power for good that it requires the most careful management. It is -perhaps a peculiar point of view, but I have explained it to Mme. de -Montevesso." - -"She must have been interested," muttered Cosmo between his teeth, -following across the room and round the screen the possessor of these -immensely important riches, who, candelabra in hand, preceded him by a -pace or two and threw open the door behind the screen. Cosmo, crossing -in the wake of Count Helion the room of the evening reception, saw dimly -the disarranged furniture about the mantelpiece, the armchair in which -Lady William had sat, the great sofa in which little Countess Bubna had -been shyly ensconced, the card table with the chairs pushed back and all -the cards in a heap in the middle. The swaying flames of the candles, -leaping from one long strip of mirror to another, preceded him into the -next salon where all the furniture stood ranged expectantly against the -walls. The next two salons were exactly alike except for the colour of -the hangings and the size of the pictures on the walls. As to their -subjects, Cosmo could not make them out. - -Not a single lackey was to be seen in the anteroom of white walls and -red benches; but Cosmo was surprised at the presence of a peasant-like -woman, who must have been sitting there in the dark for some time. The -light of the candelabra fell on the gnarled hands lying in her lap. The -edge of a dark shawl shaded her features with the exception of her -ancient chin. She never stirred. Count Helion, disregarding her as -though she had been invisible, put down the candelabra on a little table -and wished Cosmo good-night with a formal bow. At the same time he -expressed harshly the hope of seeing Cosmo often during his stay in -Genoa. Then with an unexpected attempt to soften his tone he muttered -something about his wife--"the friend of your childhood." - -The allusions exasperated Cosmo. The more he saw of the grown woman, the -less connection she seemed to have with the early Adèle. The contrast -was too strong. He felt tempted to tell M. de Montevesso that he by no -means cherished that old memory. The nearest he came to it was the -statement that he had the privilege to hear much of Madame de Montevesso -in Paris. M. de Montevesso, contemplating now the dark peasant-like -figure huddled up on the crimson seat against a white wall, hastened to -turn towards Cosmo the black weariness of his eyes. - -"Mme. de Montevesso has led a very retired life during the Empire. Her -conduct was marked by the greatest circumspection. But she is a person -of rank. God knows what gossip you may have heard. The world is -censorious." - -Brusquely Cosmo stepped out into the outer gallery. Listening to M. de -Montevesso was no pleasure. The Count accompanied him as far as the head -of the great staircase and stayed to watch his descent with a face that -expressed no more than the face of a soldier on parade, till, all at -once, his eyes started to roll about wildly as if looking for some -object he could snatch up and throw down the stairs at Cosmo's head. But -this lasted only for a moment. He reëntered the anteroom quietly and -busied himself in closing and locking the door with care. After doing -this he approached the figure on the bench and stood over it silently. - - - - -VII - - -The old woman pushed back her shawl and raised her wrinkled soft face -without much expression to say: - -"The child has been calling for you for the last hour or more." - -Helion de Montevesso walked all the length of the anteroom and back -again; then stood over the old woman as before. - -"You know what she is," she began directly the Count had stopped. "She -won't give us any rest. When she was little one could always give her a -beating but now there is no doing anything with her. You had better come -and see for yourself." - -"Very unruly?" asked the Count de Montevesso. - -"She is sixteen," said the old woman crisply, getting up and moving -towards the stairs leading to the upper floor. A stick that had been -lying concealed in the folds of her dress was now in her hand. She -ascended the stairs more nimbly than her appearance would have led one -to expect, and the Count of Montevesso followed her down a long -corridor, where at last the shuffle of her slippers and the tapping of -her stick ceased in front of a closed door. A profound silence reigned -in this remote part of the old palace which the enormous vanity of the -upstart had hired for the entertainment of his wife and his -father-in-law in the face of the restored monarchies of Europe. The old -peasant woman turned to the stiff figure which, holding the candelabra -and in its laced coat, recalled a gorgeous lackey. - -"We have put her to bed," she said, "but as to holding her down in it, -that was another matter. Maria is strong but she got weary of it at -last. We had to send for Father Paul. Shameless as she is she would not -attempt to get out of her bed in her nightdress before a priest. The -Father promised to stay till we could fetch you to her, so I came down, -but I dared not go further than the anteroom. A valet told me you had -still a guest with you, so I sent him away and sat down to wait. The -wretch to revenge himself on me put out the lights before he went." - -"He shall be flung out to-morrow," said M. de Montevesso in a low tone. - -"I hope I have done nothing wrong, Helion." - -"No," said M. de Montevesso in the same subdued tone. He lent his ear to -catch some slight sound on the other side of the door. But the stillness -behind it was like the stillness of a sick room to which people listen -with apprehension. The old woman laid her hand lightly on the sleeve of -the gorgeous coat. "You are a great man . . ." - -"I am," said Count Helion without exultation. - -The old woman, dragged out at the age of seventy from the depths of her -native valley by the irresistible will of the great man, tried to find -utterance for a few simple thoughts. Old age with its blunted feelings -had alone preserved her from utter bewilderment at the sudden change; -but she was overpowered by its greatness. She lived inside that palace -as if enchanted into a state of resignation. Ever since she had arrived -in Genoa, which was just five weeks ago, she had kept to the upper -floor. Only the extreme necessity of the case had induced her to come so -far downstairs as the white anteroom. She was conscious of not having -neglected her duty. - -"I did beat her faithfully," she declared with the calmness of old age -and conscious rectitude. The lips of M. de Montevesso twitched slightly. -"I did really, though often feeling too weary to raise my arm. Then I -would throw a shawl over my head and go in the rain to speak to Father -Paul. He had taught her to read and write. He is full of charity. He -would shrug his shoulders and tell me to put my trust in God. It was all -very well for him to talk like that. True that on your account I was the -greatest person for miles around. I had the first place everywhere. But -now that you made us come out here just because of your fancy to turn -the child into a Contessa, all my poor senses leave my old body. For, -you know, if I did beat her, being entrusted with your authority, -everybody else in the village waited on a turn of her finger. She was -full of pride and wilfulness then. Now since you have introduced her -amongst all these _grandissimi signori_ of whom she had only heard as -one hears of angels in heaven, she seems to have lost her head with the -excess of pride and obstinacy. What is one to do? The other day on -account of something I said she fastened her ten fingers into my gray -hair. . . ." She threw her shawl off and raised her creased eyelids. . . . -"This gray hair, on the oldest head of your family, Helion. If it -hadn't been for Maria she would have left me a corpse on the floor." The -mild bearing of the old woman had a dignity of its own, but at this -point it broke down and she became agitated. - -"Many a time I sat up in my bed thinking half the night. I am an old -woman. I can read the signs. This is a matter for priests. When I was a -big girl in our village they had to exorcise a comely youth, a herdsman. -I am not fit to talk of such matters. But you, Helion, could say a word -or two to Father Paul. He would know what to do . . . or get the Bishop -. . ." - -"Amazing superstition," Count Helion exclaimed in a rasping growl. "The -days of priests and devils are gone," he went on angrily, but paused as -if struck with a sudden doubt or a new idea. The old woman shook her -head slightly. In the depths of her native valley all the days were -alike in their hopes and fears as far back as she could remember. She -did not know how she had offended her brother and emitted a sigh of -resignation. - -"What's the trouble now?" Count Helion asked brusquely. - -The old woman shrugged her shoulders expressively. Count Helion -insisted. "There must be some cause." - -"The cause, as I am a sinner, can be no other but that young signore -that came out with you and to whom you bowed so low. I didn't know you -had to bow to anybody unless perhaps to the King who has come back -lately. But then a king is anointed with holy oils! I couldn't believe -my eyes. What kind of prince was that?" She waited, screwing her eyes up -at Count Helion, who looked down at her inscrutably and at last -condescended to say: - -"That was an Englishman." - -She moaned with astonishment and alarm. A heretic! She thought no -heretic could be good-looking. Didn't they have their wickedness written -on their faces? - -"No," said Count Helion. "No man has that, and no woman, either." - -Again he paused to think. "Let us go in now," he added. - -The big room (all the rooms in that Palazzo were big unless they -happened to be mere dark and airless cupboards), which they entered as -quietly as if a sick person had been lying in there at the point of -death, contained amongst its gilt furniture also a few wooden stools and -a dark walnut table brought down from the farmhouse for the convenience -of its rustic occupants. A priest sitting in a gorgeous armchair held to -the light of a common brass oil lamp an open book, the shadow of which -darkened a whole corner of the vast space between the high walls -decorated with rare marbles, long mirrors, and heavy hangings. A few -small pieces of washing were hung out to dry on a string stretched from -a window latch to the back of a chair. A common brazier stood in the -fireplace and, near it, a gaunt, bony woman dressed in black with a -white handkerchief on her head was stirring something in a little -earthen pot. Ranged at the foot of a dais bearing a magnificent but -dismantled couch of state were two small wooden bedsteads, on one of -which lay the girl whom Cosmo knew only as "Clelia, my husband's niece," -with a hand under her cheek. The other cheek was much flushed; a tangle -of loose black hair covered the pillow. Whether from respect for the -priest or from mere exhaustion she was keeping perfectly still under her -bedclothes pulled up to her very neck so that only her head remained -uncovered. - -At the entrance of the Count the priest closed his book and stood up, -but the woman by the mantelpiece went on stirring her pot. Count Helion -returned a "_Bonsoir, Abbé_" to the priest's silent bow, put down the -candelabra on a console, and walked straight to the bedstead. The other -three people, the gaunt woman still with her pot in her hand, approached -it too but kept their distance. - -The girl Clelia remained perfectly still under the downward thoughtful -gaze of Count Helion. In that face half buried in the pillow one eye -glittered full of tears. She refused to make the slightest sound in -reply to Count Helion's questions, orders, and remonstrances. Even his -coaxings, addressed to her in the same low, harsh tone, were received in -obstinate silence. Whenever he paused he could hear at his back the old -woman whispering to the priest. At last even that stopped. Count Helion -resisted the temptation to grab all that hair on the pillow and pull the -child out of bed by it. He waited a little longer and then said in his -harsh tone: - -"I thought you loved me." - -For the first time there was a movement under the blanket. But that was -all. Count Helion turned his back on the bed and met three pairs of eyes -fixed on him with different expressions. He avoided meeting any of them. -"Perhaps if you were to leave us alone," he said. - -They obeyed in silence, but at the last moment he called the priest back -and took him aside to a distant part of the room where the brass oil -lamp stood on the walnut-wood table. The full physiognomy of Father Paul -Carpi with its thin eyebrows and pouting mouth was overspread by a -self-conscious professional placidity that seemed ready to see or hear -anything without surprise. Count de Montevesso was always impressed by -it. "Abbé," he said brusquely, "you know that my sister thinks that the -child is possessed. I suppose she means by a devil." - -He looked with impatience at the priest, who remained silent, and burst -out in a subdued voice: - -"I believe you people are hoping now to bring him back into the world -again, that old friend of yours." He waited for a moment. "Sit down, -Abbé." - -Father Carpi sank into the armchair with some dignity while Count Helion -snatched a three-legged stool and planted himself on it on the other -side of the table. "Now, wouldn't you?" - -Something not bitter, not mocking, but as if disillusioned seemed to -touch the lips of Father Carpi at the very moment he opened them to say -quietly: - -"Only as a witness to the reign of God." - -"Which of course would be your reign. Never mind, a man like me can be -master under any reign." He jerked his head slightly towards the bed. -"Now what sort of devil would it be in that child?" - -The deprecatory gesture of Father Carpi did not detract from his -dignity. "I should call it dumb myself," continued Count Helion. "We -will leave it alone for a time. What hurts me often is the difficulty of -getting at your thoughts, Abbé. Haven't I been a good enough friend to -you?" To this, too, Father Carpi answered by a deferential gesture and -deprecatory murmur. Count Helion had restored the church, rebuilt the -presbytery, and had behaved generally with great munificence. Father -Carpi, sprung from shopkeeping stock in the town of Novi, had lived -through times difficult for the clergy. He had been contented to exist. -Now, at the age of forty or more, the downfall of the Empire, which -seemed to carry with it the ruin of the impious forces of the -Revolution, had awakened in him the first stirrings of ambition. Its -immediate object was the chaplaincy to the Count of Montevesso's various -charitable foundations. - -There was a man, one of the great of this world, whom, without -understanding him in any deeper sense or ever trying to judge his -nature, he could see plainly enough to be unhappy. And that was a great -point. - -For the unhappy are more amenable to obscure influences, religious and -others. But Father Carpi was too intelligent to intrude upon the griefs -of that man with the mysterious past either religious consolation or -secular advice. For a long time now he had watched and waited, keeping -his thoughts so secret that they seemed even hidden from himself. To the -outbreaks of that rough, arrogant, contemptuous, and oppressive temper -he could oppose only the gravity of his sacerdotal character as Adèle -did her lofty serenity, that detachment, both scornful and inaccessible, -which seemed to place her on another plane. - -Father Carpi had never been before confronted so directly by the -difficulties of his position as at that very moment and on the occasion -of that intolerable and hopeless girl. To gain time he smiled, a slight, -non-committal smile. - -"We priests, M. le Comte, are recommended not to enter into discussion -of theological matters with people who, whatever their accomplishments -and wisdom, are not properly instructed in them. As to anything else I -am always at Monseigneur's service." - -He gave this qualification to Count Helion because it was not beyond the -bounds of respect due from a poor, parish priest to a titled great man -of his province. - -"Have you been much about amongst the town people?" asked Count Helion. - -"I go out every morning about seven to say mass in that church you may -have noticed near by. I have visited also once or twice an old friend -from my seminary days, a priest of a poor parish here. We rejoice -together at the return of the Holy Father to Rome. For the rest I had an -idea. Monseigneur, that you did not wish me to make myself prominent in -any way in this town." - -"Perhaps I didn't. It may be convenient, though, to know what are the -rumours current amongst the populace. That class has its own thoughts. I -suppose your friend would know something of that." - -"No doubt. But I can tell you, Monseigneur, what the people think. They -think that if they can't be Genoese as before, they would rather be -French than Piedmontese. That, Monseigneur, is a general feeling even -amongst the better class of citizens." - -"Much would they gain by it," mumbled Count de Montevesso. "Unless the -Other were to come back. Abbé," he added sharply, "is there any talk of -him coming back?" - -"That indeed would be a misfortune." Father Carpi's tone betrayed a -certain emotion which Count Helion noticed, faint as it was. - -"Whatever happens you will have always a friend in me," he said, and -Father Carpi acknowledged the assurance by a slight inclination of his -body. - -"Surely God would not allow it," he murmured uneasily. But the stare of -his interlocutor augmented his alarm. He was still more startled when he -heard Count de Montevesso make the remark that the only thing which -seemed to put a limit to the power of God was the folly of men. He had -too poor an opinion of Count de Montevesso to be shocked by the -blasphemy. To him it was only the proof that the Count had been very -much upset by something, some fact or some news. - -"And people are very foolish just now both in Paris and in Vienna," -added Count de Montevesso after a long pause. - -It was news then. Father Carpi betrayed nothing of his anxious -curiosity. The inward unrest which pervaded the whole basin of the -Western Mediterranean was strongest in Italy perhaps and was very strong -in the heart of Father Carpi, who was both an Italian and a priest. -Perhaps he would be told something! He almost held his breath, but Count -de Montevesso took his head between his hands and said only: - -"One is pestered by folly of all sorts. Abbé, see whether you can bring -that child to reason." - -However low in the scale of humanity Father Carpi placed the Count de -Montevesso, he never questioned his social position. Father Carpi was -made furious by the request, but he obeyed. He approached the rustic -bedstead and looked at the occupant with sombre disgust. Nothing was -obscure to him in the situation. If he couldn't tell exactly what devil -possessed that creature he remembered perfectly her mother, a rash sort -of girl who was found drowned years ago in a remarkably shallow pond -amongst some rocks not quite a mile away from the presbytery. It might -have been an accident. He had consented to bury her in consecrated -ground not from any compassion, but because of the revolutionary spirit -which had penetrated even the thick skulls of his parishioners and -probably would have caused a riot and shaken the precarious power of the -Church in his obscure valley. He stood erect by the head of the couch, -looking down at the girl's uncovered eye whose sombre iris swam on the -glistening white. He could have laughed with contempt and fury. He -regulated his deep voice so that it reached Count de Montevesso at the -other side of the room only as a solemn admonishing murmur. - -"You miserable little wretch," he said, "can't you behave yourself? You -have been a torment to me for years." - -The sense of his own powerlessness overcame him so completely that he -felt tempted for a moment to throw everything up, walk out of the room, -seek refuge amongst sinners that would believe either in God or in the -devil. - -"You are a scourge to us all," he continued in the same equable murmur. -"If you don't speak out, you little beast, and put an end to this scene -soon I will exorcise you." - -The only effect of that threat was the sudden immobility of the rolling -eye. Father Carpi turned towards the Count. - -"It is probably some sort of malady," he said coldly. "Perhaps a doctor -could prescribe some remedy." - -Count Helion came out of his listless attitude. A moment ago a doctor -was in the house in conference with M. le Marquis. Perhaps he was still -there. Count Helion got up impetuously and asked the Abbé to go along -to the other side and find out. - -"Take a light with you. All the lights are out down there. Knock at the -Marquis's door and inquire from Bernard, and if the doctor is still -there bring him along." - -Father Carpi went out hastily and Count de Montevesso, keeping the women -outside, paced the whole length of the room. The fellow called himself a -doctor whatever else he might have been. Whether he did any good to the -child or not--Count de Montevesso stopped and looked fixedly at the -bed--this was an extremely favourable opportunity to get in touch with -him personally. Who could tell what use could be made of him in his -other capacities, apart from the fact that he probably could really -prescribe some remedy? Count de Montevesso's heart was softened -paternally. His progress from European barrack-rooms to an Eastern -palace left on his mind a sort of bewilderment. He even thought the girl -attractive. There she was, a prey of some sort of illness. He bent over -her face and instantly a pair of thin bare arms darted from under the -blankets and clasped him round the neck with a force that really -surprised him. "That one loves me," he thought. He did not know that she -would have hung round anybody's neck in the passion of obtaining what -she wanted. He thought with a sort of dull insight that everybody was a -little bit against her. He abandoned his neck to the passionate clasp -for a little time, then disengaged himself gently. - -"What makes you behave like this?" he asked. "Do you feel a pain -anywhere?" - -No emotion could change the harshness of his voice, but it was very low -and there was an accent in it which the girl could not mistake. She sat -up suddenly with her long wild hair covering her shoulders. With her -round eyes, the predatory character of her face, the ruffled fury of her -aspect, she looked like an angry bird; and there was something bird-like -in the screech of her voice. - -"Pain? No. But if I didn't hate them so I would like to die. I would . . ." - -Count de Montevesso put one hand at the back of her head and clapped the -other broad palm over her mouth. This action surprised her so much that -she didn't even struggle. When the Count took his hands away she -remained silent without looking at him. - -"Don't scream like this," he murmured harshly but with obvious -indulgence. "Your aunts are outside and they will tell the priest all -about it." - -Clelia drew up her knees, clasped her hands round them outside the -blanket, and stared. - -"It is just your temper!" suggested Count Helion reproachfully. - -"All those dressed-up witches despise me. I am not frightened. And the -worst of them is that yellow-haired witch, your wife. If I had gone in -there in my bare feet they could not have stared more down on me. . . . -I shall fly at their faces. I can read their thoughts as they put their -glasses to their eyes. 'What animal is this?' they seem to ask -themselves. I am a brute beast to them." - -A shadow seemed to fall on Count de Montevesso's face for the moment. -Clelia unclasped her fingers, shook her fists at the empty space, then -clasped her legs again. These movements, full of sombre energy, were -observed silently by the Count of Montevesso. He uttered the word -"_Patienza_," which in its humility is the word of the ambitious, of the -unforgiving who keep a strict account with the world; a word of -indomitable hope. "You wait till you are a little older. You will have -plenty of people at your feet; and then you will be able to spurn -anybody you like." - -"You mean when I am married," said Clelia in a faraway voice and staring -straight over her knees. - -"Yes," said the Count de Montevesso, "but you will first have to learn -to be gentle." - -This recommendation apparently missed the ear for which it was destined. -For a whole minute Clelia seemed to contemplate some sort of vision with -her predatory and pathetic stare. One side of her nightgown had slipped -off her shoulder. Suddenly she pushed her scattered hair back, and -extending her arm towards Count Helion patted him caressingly on the -cheek. - -When she had done patting him he asked, unmoved: "Now, what is it you -want?" - -She was careful not to turn her face his way while she whispered: "I -want that young signor that came to-day to make eyes at my aunt." - -"Impossible." - -"Why impossible? I was with them in the morning. They did nothing but -look at each other. But I went for him myself." - -"That Englishman! You can't have an Englishman like this. I am thinking -of something better for you, a marquis or a count." - -This was the exact truth, not a sudden idea to meet a hopeless case. - -"You have hardly had time to have a good look at him," added Count -Helion. - -"I looked at him this evening with all my eyes, with all my soul. I -would have sat up all night to look at him. But he got up and turned his -back on me. He has no eyes for anybody but my aunt." - -"Did you speak together, you two?" - -"Yes," she said, "he sat down by me and all those witches stared as if -he had been making up to a monster. Am I a monster? He too looked at me -as if I had been one." - -"Was he rude to you?" asked the Count de Montevesso. - -"He was as insolent as all the people I have seen since we came to this -town. His heart was black as of all the rest of them. He was gentle to -me as one is gentle to an old beggar for the sake of charity. Oh, how I -hated him." - -"Well, then," said Count de Montevesso in a harsh unsympathetic tone, -"you may safely despise him." - -Clelia threw herself half out of bed on the neck of Count Helion, who -preserved an unsympathetic rigidity though he did not actually repulse -her wild and vehement caress. - -"Oh, dearest uncle of mine," she whispered ardently! into his ear, "he -is handsome! I must have him for myself." - -There was a knocking at the door. Count Helion tore the bare arms from -his neck and pushed the girl back into bed. - -"Cover yourself up," he commanded hurriedly. He arranged the blanket at -her back. "Lie still and say nothing of all this, and then you need have -no fear. But if you breathe a word of this to anybody, then . . . Come -in," he shouted to the renewed knocking and had just time to shake his -finger at Clelia menacingly before the Abbé and the doctor entered the -room. - - - - -PART III - - -I - - -Cosmo walked away with no more than one look back, just before turning -the corner, at the tensely alert griffins guarding the portals of the -Palazzo. At the entrance of his inn a small knot of men on the pavement -paused in their low conversation to look at him. After he had passed he -heard a voice say, "This is the English milord." He found the dimly lit -hall empty and he went up the empty staircase into the upper regions of -silence. His face, which to the men on the pavement had appeared -passionless and pale as marble, looked at him suddenly out of the mirror -over the fireplace, and he was startled as though he had seen a ghost. - -Spire had been told not to wait for his return. His empty room had -welcomed him with a bright flame on the hearth and with lighted candles. -He turned away from his own image and stood with his back to the fire -looking downwards and vaguely oppressed by the profound as if expectant -silence around him. The strength and novelty of the impressions received -during that day, the intimacy of their appeal, had affected his -fortitude. He felt mortally weary and began to undress; but after he got -into bed he remained for a time in a sitting posture. For the first time -in his life he tasted of loneliness. His father was at least thirty-five -years his senior. An age! His sister was just a young girl. Clever, of -course. He was very fond of her, but the mere fact of her being a girl -raised a wall between them. He had never made any real friends. He had -nothing to do; and he did not seem to know what to think of anything in -the world. Now, for instance there was that vanquished fat figure in a -little cocked hat. . . . Still an emperor. - -Cosmo came with a start out of a deep sleep that seemed to have lasted -only a moment. But he knew at once where he was, though at first he had -to argue himself out of the conviction of having parted from Count -Helion at the top of a staircase less than five minutes ago. Meantime he -watched Spire flooding the room with brilliant sunshine, for the three -windows of the room faced east. - -"Very fine morning, sir," said Spire over his shoulder. "Quite a spring -day." - -A delicious freshness flowed over Cosmo. It did not bring joy to him, -but dismay. Daylight already! It had come too soon. He had had no time -yet to decide what to do. He had gone to sleep. A most extraordinary -thing! His distress was appeased by the simple thought that there was no -need for him to do anything. After drinking his chocolate, which Spire -received on a tray from some woman on the other side of the door, he -informed him that he intended to devote the whole day to his -correspondence. A table having been arranged to that end close to an -open window, he started writing at once. On retiring without a sound -Spire left the goose-quill flying over the paper. It was past noon -before Cosmo, hearing him come in again on some pretence or other, -raised his head for the first time and dropped the pen to say: "Give me -my coat, I will go down to the dining room." - -By that time the murmur of voices in the piazza had died out. The good -Genoese had gone indoors to eat. Coming out of his light-filled room -Cosmo found the corridors cold and dark like subterranean passages cut -in rock, and the hall downstairs gloomy like a burial vault. In contrast -with it the long dining room had a festive air, a brilliancy that was -almost crude. In a corner where the man who called himself Doctor Martel -had his table this glare was toned down by half-closed shutters and -Cosmo made his way there. Cantelucci's benefactor, seated sideways with -one arm thrown over the chair's back, took Cosmo's arrival as a matter -of course, greeted him with an amiable growl, and declared himself very -sharp set. Presently laying down his knife and fork he enquired what -Cosmo had been doing that morning. Writing? Really? Thought that perhaps -Cosmo had been doing the churches. One could see very pretty girls in -the morning, waiting for their turn at the confessional. - -Cosmo, raising suddenly his eyes from his plate, caught his companion -examining him keenly. The doctor burst into a loud laugh till Cosmo's -grave face recalled him to himself. - -"I beg your pardon. I remembered suddenly a very funny thing that -happened to me last night. I am afraid you think me very impolite. It -was extremely funny." - -"Won't you tell me of it?" asked Cosmo coldly. - -"No, my dear sir. You are not in the mood. I prefer to apologize. There -is a secret in it which is not mine. But as to the girls I was perfectly -serious. If you seek female beauty you must look to the people for it -and in Genoa you will not look in vain. The women of the upper classes -are alike everywhere. You must have remarked that." - -"I have hardly had time to look about me as yet," said Cosmo. He was no -longer annoyed with the doctor, not even after he heard him say: - -"Surely yesterday evening you must have had an opportunity. You came -home late." - -"I wonder who takes the trouble to watch my movements?" remarked Cosmo -carelessly. - -"Town-police spies, of course," said the doctor grimly; "and perhaps one -or two of the most enterprising thieves. You must make up your mind to -that. After all, why should you care?" - -"Yes, why should I?" repeated Cosmo nonchalantly. "Do they report to -you?" - -The doctor laughed again. "I see you haven't forgiven me my untimely -merriment; but I will answer your question. No doubt I could hear a lot -if I wanted to, both from the police and the thieves. But as a matter of -fact it was my courier who told me. He was talking with some friends -outside this inn when you came home. You know, you are a noticeable -figure." - -"Oh, your courier. I suppose he hasn't got much else to do!" - -"I see you are bent on quarrelling, Mr. Latham," said the other, while -two unexpected dimples appeared on his round cheeks. "All right. Only -hadn't we better wait for some other opportunity? Don't you allow your -man to talk while he is assisting you to dress? I must confess I let my -fellow run on while he is shaving me in the morning. But then I am an -easy-going sort of tramp. For I am just a tramp. I have no Latham Hall -to go back to." - -He pushed his chair away from the table, stretched his legs, plunged his -hands in his pockets complacently. How long was it he had been a tramp? -he mused aloud. Twenty years? Or a little more. From one end of Europe -to the other. From Madrid to Moscow, as one might say. Exactly like that -Corsican fellow. Only he hadn't dragged a tail of two hundred thousand -men behind him, and had done no more blood-letting than his lancet was -equal to. - -He looked up at Cosmo suddenly. - -"The lancet's my weapon, you know. Not bayonet or sabre. Cold steel -anyhow. Of course I found occasion to fire off my pistols more than -once, in the course of my travels, and I must say for myself that -whenever I fired them it settled the business. One evening, I remember, -in Transylvania, stepping out of a wretched inn to take a look round, I -ran against a coalition of three powerful Haiduks in tarry breeches, -with moustaches a foot long. The moonlight was bright as day. I took in -the situation at a glance and I assure you two of them never made a -sound as they fell, while the third just grunted once. I fancy they had -designs on my poor horse. He was inside the inn, you know. A custom of -the country. Men and animals under the same roof. I used to be sorry for -the animals. When I came in again the Jew had just finished frying the -eggs. He had been very surly before but when he served me I noticed that -he was shaking like a leaf. He tried to propitiate me by the offer of a -sausage. I was simply ravenous. It made me ill for two days. That's why -I haven't forgotten the occurrence. He nearly managed to avenge those -bandits. Luckily I had the right kind of drugs in my valise, and my iron -constitution helped me to pull through. But I should like to have seen -Bonaparte in that predicament. He wouldn't have known what to do. And, -anyhow, the sausage would have finished him. His constitution is not -like mine. He's unhealthy, sir, unhealthy." - -"You had occasion to observe him often?" asked Cosmo, simply because he -was reluctant to go back to his writing. - -"Our paths seldom crossed," stated the other simply. "But some time -after the abdication I was passing through Valence--it's a tramp's -business, you know, to keep moving--and I just had a good look at him -outside the post-house. You may take it from me, he won't reach the term -of the Psalmist. Well, Mr. Latham, when I take a survey of the past, -here we are, the Corsican and I, within, say, a hundred miles of each -other, at the end of twenty years of tramping, and, frankly, which of us -is the better off when all's said and done?" - -"That's a point of view," murmured Cosmo wearily. He added, however, -that there were various ways of appreciating the careers of the world's -great men. - -"There are," assented the other. "For instance, you would say that -nothing short of the whole of Europe was needed to crush that fellow. -But Pozzo di Borgo thinks that he has done it all by himself." - -At the name of the Emperor's Corsican enemy Cosmo raised his head. He -had caught sight in Paris of that personage at one or other of those -great receptions from which he used to come away disgusted with the -world and dissatisfied with himself. The doctor seemed inwardly amused -by his recollection of Pozzo di Borgo. - -"He said to me," he continued, "'Ah! If Bonaparte had had the sense not -to quarrel with me he wouldn't be in Elba now.' What do you think of -that, Mr. Latham? Is that a point of view?" - -"I should call it mad egotism." - -"Yes. But the most amusing thing is that there is some truth in it. The -private enmity of one man may be more dangerous and more effective than -the hatred of millions on public grounds. Pozzo has the ear of the -Russian Emperor. The fate of the Bourbons hung on a hair. Alexander's -word was law--and who knows!" - -Cosmo, plunged in abstraction, was repeating to himself mechanically, -"The fate of the Bourbons hung on a hair--the fate of the Bourbons." . . . -Those words seemed meaningless. He tried to rouse himself. "Yes, -Alexander," he murmured vaguely. The doctor raised his voice suddenly in -a peevish tone. - -"I am not talking of Alexander of Macedon, Mr. Latham." His vanity had -been hurt by Cosmo's attitude. The young man's faint smile placated him, -and the incongruous dimples reappeared on the doctor's cheeks while he -continued: "Here you are. For Pozzo, Napoleon has always been a -starveling squireen. For the Prince, he has been principally the born -enemy of good taste. . . ." - -"The Prince?" repeated Cosmo, struggling to keep his head above the -black waters of melancholia which seemed to lap about his very lips. -"You have said the Prince, haven't you? What Prince?" - -"Why, Talleyrand, of course. He did once tell him so, too. Pretty -audacious! What? . . . Well, I don't know. Suppose you were master of -the world, and somebody were to tell you something of the sort to your -face--what could you do? Nothing. You would have to gulp it, feeling -pretty small. A private gentleman of good position could resent such a -remark from an equal, but a master of the world couldn't. A master of -the world, Mr. Latham, is very small potatoes; and I will tell you why: -it's because he is alone of his kind, stuck up like a thief in the -pillory, for dead cats and cabbage stalks to be thrown at him. A devil -of a position to be in unless for a moment. But no man born of woman is -a monster. There never was such a thing. A man who would really be a -monster would arouse nothing but loathing and hatred. But this man has -been loved by an army, by a people. For years his soldiers died for him -with joy. Now, didn't they?" - -Cosmo perceived that he had managed to forget himself. "Yes," he said, -"that cannot be denied." - -"No," continued the doctor. "And now, within twenty yards of us, on the -other side of the wall there are millions of people who still love him. -Hey! Cantelucci!" he called across the now empty length of the room. -"Come here." - -The innkeeper, who had been noiselessly busy about a distant sideboard, -approached with deference, in his shirt-sleeves, girt with a long apron -of which one corner was turned up, and with a white cap on his head. -Being asked whether it was true that Italians loved Napoleon, he -answered by a bow and "Excellency." - -"You think yourself that he is a great man, don't you?" pursued the -doctor, and obtained another bow and another murmured "Excellency." - -The doctor turned to Cosmo triumphantly. "You see! And Bonaparte has -been stealing from them all he could lay his hands on for years. All -their works of art. I am surprised he didn't take away the wall on which -_The Last Supper_ is painted. It makes my blood boil. I love Italy, you -know." He addressed again the motionless Cantelucci. - -"But what is it that makes you people love this man?" - -This time Cantelucci did not bow. He seemed to make an effort: "Signore, -it is the idea." - -The doctor directed his eyes again to Cosmo in silence. At last the -innkeeper stepped back three paces before turning away from his English -clients. The dimples had vanished from the doctor's full cheeks. There -was something contemptuous in the peevishness of his thin lips and the -extreme hardness of his eyes. They softened somewhat before he addressed -Cosmo. - -"Here is another point of view for you. Devil only knows what that idea -is, but I suspect it's vague enough to include every illusion that ever -fooled mankind. There must be some charm in that gray coat and that old -three-cornered hat of his, for the man himself has betrayed every hatred -and every hope that have helped him on his way." - -"What I am wondering at," Cosmo said at last, "is whether you have ever -talked like this to anybody before." - -The doctor seemed taken aback a little. - -"Oh. You mean about Bonaparte," he said. "If you had gone to that other -inn, Pollegrini's, more suitable to your nationality and social -position, you would have heard nothing of that kind. I am not very -communicative really, but to sit at meals like two mutes would have been -impossible. What could we have conversed about? One must have some -subject other than the weather and, frankly, what other subject would we -have had here in Genoa, or for that matter in any other spot of the -civilized world? I know there are amongst us in England a good many -young men who call themselves revolutionists and even republicans. -Charming young men, generous and all that. Friends of Boney. You might -be one of them." - -As he paused markedly Cosmo murmured that he was hardly prepared to -state what he was. That other inn, the Pollegrini, was full when he -arrived. - -"Well, there had been three departures this morning," the doctor -informed him. "You can have your things packed up this afternoon and -carried across the Place. You know, by staying here you make yourself -conspicuous to the spies, not to speak of the thieves; they ask -themselves: 'What sort of inferior Englishman is that?' With me it is -different. I am known for a man who has his own work to do. People are -curious. And as my work is confidential I prefer to keep out of the way -rather than have to be rude. But for you it would be more amusing to -live over there. New faces all the time; endless gossip about all sorts -of people." - -"I do not think it is worth while to change now," said Cosmo coldly. - -"Of course not, if you are not going to prolong your stay. If you -project a visit to Elba, Livorno is the port for that. And if you are -anxious to hear about Napoleon you will hear plenty of gossip about him -there. Here you have nothing but my talk." - -"I have found it very interesting," said Cosmo, rising to go away. The -doctor smiled without amiability. He was determined never to let Cosmo -guess that he knew of his acquaintance with the people occupying the -palace guarded by the symbolic griffins. Of that fact he had been made -aware by the Count de Montevesso who, once, he had got the doctor into -Clelia's room, decided to take him into his confidence--on the ground -that one must be frank with a medical man. The real reason was, however, -that knowing Doctor Martel to be employed on secret political work by -the statesmen of the Alliance, and having a very great idea of his -occult influences in all sorts of spheres, he hoped to get from him -another sort of assistance. His last words were, "You see yourself the -state the child is in. I want that popinjay moved out of Genoa." - -The only answer of the doctor to this, and the last sound during that -professional visit that Count de Montevesso heard from him, was a short -wooden laugh. That man of political intrigues, confidential missions -(often he had more than one at a time on his hands), inordinately vain -of his backstairs importance, was not mercenary. He had always preserved -a most independent attitude towards his employers. To him the Count de -Montevesso was but a common stupid soldier of fortune of no importance -and of no position except as the son-in-law of the Marquis d'Armand. He -had never seen him before, but his marital life was known to him as it -was known to the rest of the world. To be waylaid by a strange priest -just as he was leaving the Marquis's room was annoying enough, but he -could not very well refuse the request since it seemed to be a case of -sudden illness. He was soon enlightened as to its nature by Clelia, who -had treated him and the Count to another of her indescribable -performances. Characteristically enough the doctor had never been for a -moment irritated with the girl. He behaved by her tempestuous bedside -like a man of science, calm, attentive, impenetrable. But it was -afterwards, when he had been drawn aside by the Count for a confidential -talk, that he had asked himself whether he were dreaming or awake. His -scorn for the man helped him to preserve his self-command, and to the -end the Count was not intelligent enough to perceive its character. - -The doctor left the Palazzo about an hour after Cosmo (but not by the -same staircase) and on his way to his inn gave rein to his indignation. -Did the stupid brute imagine that he had any sort of claim on his -services? Ah, he wanted that popinjay removed from Genoa! Indeed! And -what the devil did he care for it? Was he expected to arrange a neat -little assassination to please that solemn wooden imbecile? The doctor's -sense of self-importance was grievously hurt. Even in the morning after -a good-night's rest he had not shaken off the impression. However, he -was reasonable enough not to make Cosmo in any way responsible for what -he defined to himself as the most incredibly offensive experience of his -life. He only looked at him when he came to lunch with a sort of acid -amusement as the being who had had the power to arouse a passion of love -in the primitive soul of that curious little savage. As the meal -proceeded, the doctor seemed to notice that his young countryman was -somehow changed. He watched him covertly. What had happened to him since -last evening? Surely he hadn't been smitten himself by the little savage -that under no circumstances could have been made fit to be a housemaid -in an English family. - -After he had been left by Cosmo alone in the dining room, the doctor's -body continued to loll in the chair while his thoughts continued to -circle around that funny affair, of which you couldn't say whether it -was love at first sight or a manifestation of some inherited lunacy. -Quite a good-looking young man. Out of the common too, in a -distinguished way. Altogether a specimen of one's countrymen one could -well be proud of, mused further the doctor, whose tastes had been formed -by much intercourse with all kinds of people. Characteristically enough, -too, he felt for a moment sorry in his grumpy contemptuous way for the -little dishevelled savage with a hooked nose and burning cheeks and her -thin sticks of bare arms. The doctor was humane. The origin of his -reputation sprang from his humanity. But his thought, as soon as it left -Clelia, stopped short as it were before another image that replaced it -in his mind. He had remembered the Countess of Montevesso. He knew her -of old, by sight and reputation. He had seen her no further back than -last night by the side of the old Marquis's chair. Now he had seen the -Count de Montevesso himself, he could well believe all the stories of a -lifelong jealousy. The doctor's hard, active eyes stared fixedly at the -truth. It was not because of that little savage that gloomy -self-tormenting ass of a drill sergeant to an Indian prince wanted young -Latham removed from Genoa. Oh, dear no. That wasn't it at all. It was -much more serious. - -Before he walked out of the empty dining room Doctor Martel concluded -that it would be perhaps just as well for young Latham not to linger too -long in Genoa. - - - - -II - - -Cosmo, having returned to his room, sat down again at the writing table: -for was not this day to be devoted to correspondence? Long after the -shade had invaded the greater part of the square below he went on, while -the faint shuffle of footsteps and the faint murmur of voices reached -him from the pavement like the composite sound of agitated insect life -that can be heard in the depths of a forest. It required all his courage -to keep on, piling up words which dealt exclusively with towns, roads, -rivers, mountains, the colours of the sky. It was like labouring the -description of the scenery of a stage after a great play had come to an -end. A vain thing. And still he travelled on. Having at last descended -into the Italian plain (for the benefit of Henrietta), he dropped his -pen and thought: "At this rate I will never arrive in Genoa." He fell -back in his chair like a weary traveller. He was suddenly overcome by -that weary distaste a frank nature feels after an effort at concealing -an overpowering sentiment. - -But had he really anything to conceal? he asked himself. - -Suddenly the door flew open and Spire marched in with four lighted -candles on a tray. It was only then that Cosmo became aware how late it -was. "Had I not better tear all this up?" he thought, looking down at -the sheets before him. - -Spire put two candlesticks on the table, disposed the two others, one -each side of the mantelpiece, and was going out. - -"Wait!" cried Cosmo. - -It was like a cry of distress. Spire shut the door quietly and turned -about, betraying no emotion. Cosmo seized the pen again and concluded -hastily: - - -I have been in Genoa for the last two days. I have seen Adèle and the -Marquis. They send their love. You shall have lots about them in my -next. I have no time now to tell you what a wonderful person she has -become. But perhaps you would not think so. - - -After he had signed it the thought struck him that there was nothing -about Napoleon in his letter. He must put in something about Napoleon. -He added a P.S.: - - -You can form no idea of the state of suspense in which all classes live -here from the highest to the lowest, as to what may happen next. All -their thoughts are concentrated on Bonaparte. Rumours are flying about -of some sort of violence that may be offered to him, assassination, -kidnapping. It's difficult to credit it all, though I do believe that -the Congress in Vienna is capable of any atrocity. A person I met here -suggested that I should go to Livorno. Perhaps I will. But I have lost, -I don't know why, all desire to travel. Should I find a ship ready to -sail for England in Livorno, I may take passage in her and come home at -once by sea. - - -Cosmo collected the pages, and while closing the packet asked himself -whether he ought to tell her that. Was it the fact that he had lost all -wish to travel? However, he let Spire take the packet to the post and -during the man's absence took a turn or two in the room. He had got -through the day. Now there was the evening to get through somehow. But -when it occurred to him that the evening would be followed by the hours -of an endless night, filled by the conflict of shadowy thoughts that -haunt the birth of a passion, the desolation of the prospect was so -overpowering that he could only meet it with a bitter laugh. Spire, -returning, stood thunderstruck at the door. - -"What's the matter with you? Have you seen a ghost?" asked Cosmo, who -ceased laughing suddenly and fixed the valet with distracted eyes. - -"No, sir, certainly not. I was wondering whether you hadn't better dine -in your room." - -"What do you mean? Am I not fit to be seen?" asked Cosmo captiously, -glancing at himself in the mirror as though the crisis through which he -had passed in the last three or four minutes could have distorted his -face. Spire made no answer. The sound of that laugh had made him lose -his conventional bearing; while Cosmo wondered what had happened to that -imbecile and glared at him suspiciously. - -"Give me my coat," he said at last. "I am going downstairs." - -This broke the spell and Spire, getting into motion, regained his -composure. - -"Noisy company down there, sir. I thought you might not like it." - -Cosmo felt a sudden longing to hear noise, lots of it, senseless, loud, -common, absurd noise; noise loud enough to prevent one from thinking, -the sort of noise that would cause one to become, as it were, -insensible. - -"What do you want?" he asked savagely of Spire, who was hovering at his -back. - -"I am ready to help you with your coat, sir," said Spire, in an -apathetic voice. He had been profoundly shocked. After his master had -gone out, slamming the door behind him, he busied himself with a stony -face in putting the room to rights, before he blew out the candles and -left it to get his supper. - -"Didn't you advise me this morning to go to Livorno?" asked Cosmo, -falling heavily into the chair. Doctor Martel was already at table, and, -except that he had changed his boots for silk stockings and shoes, he -might not have moved from there all the afternoon. - -"Livorno," repeated that strange man. "Did I? Yes. The road along the -Riviera di Levante is delightful for any person sensible to the beauties -of Italian landscapes." He paused with a sour expression in the noise of -voices filling the room, and muttered that no doubt Cantelucci found -that sort of thing pay but that the place was becoming impossible. - -Cosmo was just thinking that there was not half enough uproar there. The -naval officers seemed strangely subdued that evening. The same old -lieutenant with sunken cheeks and a sharp nose, in the same shabby -uniform, was at the head of the table. Cantelucci, wearing a -long-skirted maroon coat, now glided about the room, unobtrusive and -vigilant. His benefactor beckoned to him. - -"You would know where to find a man with four good horses for the -signore's carriage?" he asked; and accepting Cantelucci's low bow as an -affirmative, addressed himself to Cosmo. "The road's perfectly safe. The -country's full of Austrian troops." - -"I think I would prefer to go by sea," said Cosmo, who had not thought -of making any arrangements for the journey. Instantly Cantelucci glided -away, while the doctor emitted a grunt and applied himself to his -dinner. Cosmo thought desperately, "Oh, yes, the sea, why not by sea, -away from everybody?" He had been rolling and bumping on the roads, -good, bad, and indifferent, in dust or mud, meeting in inns ladies and -gentlemen for days and days between Paris and Genoa, and for a moment he -was fascinated by the notion of a steady gliding progress in company of -three or four bronzed sailors over a blue sea in sight of a picturesque -coast of rocks and hills crowded with pines, with opening valleys, with -white villages, and purple promontories of lovely shape. It was like a -dream which lasted till the doctor was heard suddenly saying, "I think I -could find somebody that would take your travelling carriage off your -hands"--and the awakening came with an inward recoil of all Cosmo's -being, as if before a vision of irrevocable consequences. - -The doctor lowered his eyelids. "He is changed," he said to himself. "Oh -yes, he is changed." This, however, did not prevent him from feeling -irritated by Cosmo's lack of response to the offer to dispose of his -travelling carriage. - -"There are many people that would consider themselves lucky to have such -an offer made to them," he remarked, after a period of silence. "It is -not so easy at this time to get rid of a travelling carriage. Nor yet to -have an opportunity to hire a dependable man with four good horses if -you want to go by land. I mean at a time like this when anything may -happen any day." - -"I am sure I am very much obliged to you," said Cosmo, "but I am really -in no hurry." - -The doctor took notice of Cosmo's languid attitude and the untouched -plate before him. - -"The trouble is that you don't seem to have any aim at all. Isn't that -it?" - -"Yes. I confess," said Cosmo carelessly. "I think I want a rest." - -"Well, Mr. Latham, you had better see that you get it, then. This place -isn't restful, it is merely dull. And then suppose you were suddenly to -perceive an aim, such for instance as a visit to Elba--you may be too -late if you linger unduly. You know, you are not likely to see a -specimen like that one over there again in your lifetime. And even he -may not be with us very long." - -"You seem very positive about that," said Cosmo, looking at his -interlocutor searchingly. "This is the third or fourth time that I hear -that sort of allusion from you. Have you any special information?" - -"Yes, of a sort. It has been my lot to hear much of what is said in high -places, and the nature of my occupation has given me much practice in -appreciating what is said." - -"In high places!" interjected Cosmo. - -"And in low, too," retorted the doctor a little impatiently, "if that is -the distinction you have in your mind, Mr. Latham. However, I told you I -have been in Vienna quite recently, and I have heard something there." - -"From Prince Talleyrand?" was Cosmo's stolid suggestion. - -The doctor smiled acidly. "Not a bad guess. I did hear something at -Prince Talleyrand's. I heard it from Montrond. You know whom I mean?" - -"Never heard of him. Who is he?" - -"Never heard of Montrond? Oh, I forgot, you have been shut up in that -tight island of ours. Monsieur Montrond has the advantage to live near -the rose. You understand me? He is the intimate companion to the Prince. -Has been for many years. The Prince told somebody once that he liked -Montrond because he was not 'excessively' scrupulous. That just paints -the man for you. I was talking with Monsieur Montrond about Bonaparte's -future--and I was not trying to be unkind, either. I pointed out that -one could hardly expect him to settle down if the French Government were -not made to pay him the money guaranteed under the Treaty. He could see -the moment when he would find himself without a penny. That's enough to -make any human being restive. He was bound to try and do something. A -man must live, I said. And Montrond looks at me, sideways, and says -deliberately: 'Oh, here we don't see the necessity.' You understand that -after a hint like this I dropped the subject. It's a point of view like -another, eh, Mr. Latham?" - -Cosmo was impressed. "I heard last night," he said, "that he is taking -precautions for his personal safety." - -"He remembered perhaps what happened to a certain Duc d'Enghien, a young -man who obviously didn't take precautions. So you heard that story? -Well, in Livorno you will hear many sorts of stories. Livorno is an -exciting place, and an excellent point to start from for a visit to -Elba, which would be a great memory for your old age. And if you happen -to observe anything remarkable there I would thank you to drop me a -line, care of Cantelucci. You see, I have put some money into a deal of -oil, and I don't know how it is, everything in the world, even a little -twopenny affair like that, is affected by this feeling of suspense that -man's presence gives rise to: hopes, plans, affections, love affairs. If -I were you, Mr. Latham, I would certainly go to Livorno." He waited a -little before he got up, muttering something about having a lot of pen -work to do, and went out, Cantelucci hastening to open the door for him. - -Cosmo remained passive in his chair. The room emptied itself gradually, -and there was not even a servant left in it when Cosmo rose in his turn. -He went back to his room, threw a few pieces of wood on the fire, and -sat down. He felt as if lost in a strange world. - -He doubted whether he ought not to have called that day at the Palace, -if only to say good-bye. And suddenly all the occurrences and even words -of the day before assailed his memory. The morning call, the mulatto -girl, the sunshine in Madame de Montevesso's boudoir, the seduction of -her voice, the emotional appeal of her story, had stirred him to the -depths of his soul. Where was the man who could have imagined the -existence of a being of such splendid humanity, with such a voice, with -such amazing harmony of aspect, expression, gesture--with such a face in -this gross world of mortals in which Lady Jane and Mrs. R.'s daughters -counted for the most exquisite products offered to the love of men? And -yet Cosmo remembered now that even while all his senses had been thrown -into confusion by the first sight of Madame de Montevesso he had felt -dimly that she was no stranger, that he had seen her glory before: the -presence, the glance, the lips. He did not connect that dim recognition -with the child Adèle. No child could have promised a woman like this. -It was rather like the awed recollection of a prophetic vision. And it -had been in Latham Hallbut not in a dream; he was certain no man ever -found the premonition of such a marvel in the obscure promptings of -slumbering flesh. And it was not in a vision of his own; such visions -were for artists, for inspired seers. She must have been foretold to him -in some picture he had seen in Latham Hall, where one came on pictures -(mostly of the Italian school) in unexpected places, on landings, at the -end of dark corridors, in spare bedrooms. A luminous oval face on the -dark background--the noble full-length woman, stepping out of the narrow -frame with long draperies held by jewelled clasps and girdle, with -pearls on head and bosom, carrying a book and a pen (or was it a palm?) -and--yes! he saw it plainly with terror--with her left breast pierced by -a dagger. He saw it there plainly as if the blow had been struck before -his eyes. The released hilt seemed to vibrate yet, while the eyes looked -straight at him, profound, unconscious in miraculous tranquillity. - -Terror-struck as if at the discovery of a crime, he jumped up, trembling -in every limb. He had a horror of the room, of being alone within its -four bare walls on which there were no pictures except that awful one -which seemed to hang in the air before his eyes. Cosmo felt that he must -get away from it. He snatched up his cloak and hat and fled into the -corridor. The hour was late and everything was very still. He did not -see as much as a flitting shadow on the bare rough walls of the -unfinished palace awaiting the decoration of marbles and bronzes that -would never cover its nakedness now. The dwelling of the Grazianis stood -as dumb and cold in all its lofty depths as at that desolate hour of the -dreadful siege, when its owner lay dead of hunger at the foot of the -great flight of stairs. It was only in the hall below that Cosmo caught -from behind one of the closed doors faint, almost ghostly, murmurs of -disputing voices. The two hanging lanterns could not light up that -grandly planned cavern in all its extent, but Cosmo made out a dim shape -of the elderly lieutenant sitting all alone and perfectly still against -the wall, with a bottle of wine before him. By the time he had reached -the pavement Cosmo had mastered his trembling and had steadied his -thoughts. He wanted to keep away from that house for hours, for hours. -He glanced right and left, hesitating. In the whole town he knew only -the way to the Palazzo and the way to the port. He took the latter -direction. He walked by the faint starlight falling into the narrow -streets resembling lofty unroofed corridors as if the whole town had -been one palace, recognizing on his way the massive shape of one or two -jutting balconies he remembered seeing before, and also a remarkable -doorway, the arch of which was held up by bowed giants with flowing -beards, like two captive sons of the god of the sea. - - - - -III - - -At the moment when Cosmo was leaving his room to escape the haunting -vision of an old picture representing a beautiful martyr with a dagger -in her breast. Doctor Martel was at work finishing what he called a -confidential memorandum which he proposed to hand over to the Marquis -d'Armand. The doctor applied very high standards of honour and fidelity -to his appreciation of men's character. He had a very great respect for -the old Marquis. He was anxious to make him the recipient of that crop -of valuable out-of-the-way information interesting to the French -Bourbons which he had gathered lately. - -Having sat up half the night, he slept late and was just finishing -shaving when, a little before eleven o'clock, there was a knock at his -door and Cantelucci entered. The innkeeper offered no apology for this -intrusion, but announced without preliminaries that the young English -gentleman had vanished during the night from the inn. The woman who took -the chocolate in the morning upstairs found no servant ready to receive -it as usual. The bedroom door was ajar. After much hesitation she had -ventured to put her head through. The shutters being open, she had seen -that the bed had not been slept in. . . . The doctor left off dabbing -his cheeks with eau de cologne and turned to stare at the innkeeper. At -last he shrugged his shoulders slightly. - -Cantelucci took the point immediately. Yes. But in this case it was -impossible to dismiss the affair lightly. The young English signore had -not been much more than forty-eight hours in Genoa. He had no time to -make many acquaintances. And in any case, Cantelucci thought, he ought -to have been back by this time. - -The doctor picked up his wig and adjusted it on his head thoughtfully, -like a considering cap. That simple action altered his physiognomy so -completely that Cantelucci was secretly affected. He made one of his -austerely deferential bows, which seemed to put the whole matter into -the doctor's hands at once. - -"You seem very much upset," said the doctor. "Have you seen his servant? -He must know something." - -"I doubt it. Excellency. He has been upstairs to open the shutters, of -course. He is now at the front door, looking out. I did speak to him. He -had too much wine last evening and fell asleep with his head on the -table. I saw him myself before I retired." - -The doctor preserving a sort of watchful silence, Cantelucci added that -he, himself, had retired early on account of one of those periodical -headaches he had suffered from since the days of his youth when he had -been chained up in the dungeons of St. Elmo for months. - -The doctor thought the fellow did look as though he had had a bad night. -"Why didn't you come to see me? You know I can cure worse ailments." - -The innkeeper raised his hands in horror at the mere idea. He would -never have dared to disturb His Excellency for such a trifle as a -headache. But the cause of his trouble was quite other. A partisan of -the revolutionary French from his early youth, Cantelucci had been an -active conspirator against the old order of things. Now that kings and -priests were raising their heads out of the dust he had again become -very busy. The latest matter in hand had been the sending of some -important documents to the conspirators in the South. He had found the -messenger, had taken steps for getting him away secretly, had given him -full instructions the last thing before going to bed. The young fellow -was brave, intelligent, and resourceful, beyond the common. But somehow -the very perfection of his arrangements kept the old conspirator awake. -He reviewed them again and again. He could not have done better. At last -he fell asleep, but almost immediately, it seemed to him, he was roused -by the old crone whose task it was to light the fires in the morning. -Sordid and witchlike, she conveyed to him in a toothless mumble the -intelligence that Checca was in the kitchen, all in tears and demanding -to see him at once. - -This Checca was primarily and principally a pretty girl, an orphan left -to his care by his late sister. She was not consulted when her uncle, of -whom she stood in awe, married her to the middle-aged owner of a -wine-shop in the low quarter of the town extending along the shore near -the harbour. He was good-natured, slow-witted, and heavy-handed at -times. But Checca was much less afraid of him than of her austere uncle. -It amused her to be the padrona of an osteria which in the days of -Empire was a notable resort for the officers of French privateers. But -on the peace that clientèle had disappeared and Checca's husband, -leaving the wine-casks to her management, employed his leisure in petty -smuggling operations which kept him away from home. - -Cantelucci connected his niece's irruption with some trouble that men -might have got into. He was vexed. He had other matters to think of. He -was astonished by the violence of her grief. When she could speak at -last her tale turned out to be more in the nature of a confession. The -old conspirator could hardly believe his ears when he heard that the man -whom he had trusted had committed the crime of betraying the secrecy of -his mission by going to the osteria late at night to say good-bye to -Checca. She assured him that he had been there only a very few moments. - -"What, in a wine-shop! Before all the people! With spies swarming -everywhere!" - -"No," she said. It was much later. Everybody was gone. He had scratched -at the barred door. - -"And you were on the other side waiting to let him in--miserable girl," -Cantelucci hissed ferociously. - -She stared at her terrible uncle with streaming eyes. "Yes, I was." She -had not the heart to refuse him. He stayed only a little moment. . . . -(Cantelucci ground his teeth with rage. It was the first he had heard of -this affair. Here was a most promising plot endangered by this -_bestialita._) . . . Only one little hug, and then she pushed him out -herself. Before she had finished putting up the bar she heard a tumult -in the street. Shots, too. Perhaps she would have rushed out but her -husband was home for a few days. He came down to the wine-shop very -cross and boxed her ears, she did not know why. Perhaps for being in the -shop at that late hour. That did not matter; but he drove her before him -up the stairs and she had to sham sleep for hours till he began to snore -regularly. She had grown so desperate that she took the risk of running -out and telling her uncle all about it. She thought he ought to know. -What brought her to the inn really was a faint hope that Attilio, having -eluded the assassins (she was sure they were assassins), had taken -refuge there unscathed--or wounded perhaps. She said nothing of this, -however. Before Cantelucci's stony bearing she broke down. "He is -dead--_poverino._ My own hands pushed him to his death," she moaned to -herself crazily, standing in front of her silent uncle before the -blazing kitchen fire in the yet slumbering house. - -Rage kept Cantelucci dumb. He was as shocked by what he had heard as the -most rigid moralist could desire. But he was a conspirator, and all he -could see in this was the criminal conduct of those young people who -ought to have thought of nothing but the liberation of Italy. For -Attilio had taken the oath of the Carbonari; and Checca belonged to the -women's organization of that secret society. She was an _ortolana_, as -they called themselves. He had initiated her and was responsible for her -conduct. The baseness--the stupidity--the frivolity--the selfishness! - -By severe exercise of self-restraint he refrained from throwing her out -into the street all in tears as she was. He only muttered awfully at -her, "Get out of my sight, you little fool," with a menacing gesture; -but she stood her ground; she never flinched before his raised hand. And -as it fell harmless by his side she seized it in both her own, pressing -it to her lips and breast in turn, whispering the while all sorts of -endearing names at the infuriated Cantelucci. He heard the sounds of his -staff beginning the work of the day, their voices, their footsteps. They -would wonder--but his niece did not care. She clung to his hand, and he -did not get rid of her till he had actually promised to send her news -directly he had heard something himself. And she even thought of the -means. There was that fine sailor with black whiskers in attendance on -the English officers frequenting the hotel. He was a good-natured man. -He knew the way to the wine-shop. - -This reminded her of her husband. What if he should wake in her absence? -And still distracted, she ran off at last, leaving Cantelucci to face -the situation. - -He was dismayed. He did not really know what had happened--not to his -messenger but to the documents. The old conspirator, battling with his -thoughts, moved so silent and stern amongst his people that nobody dared -approach him for a couple of hours. And when they did at last come to -him with the news of the young "milord's" disappearance he simply swore -at them. But as the morning advanced he came to the conclusion that for -various reasons it would be best for him to seek his old benefactor. He -did so with a harassed face which caused the doctor to believe in the -story of a sleepless night. Of course he spoke only of Cosmo's absence. - -The doctor, leaning back against the edge of his dressing table, gazed -silently at the innkeeper. He was profoundly disturbed by the -intelligence. "Got your snuffbox on you?" he asked. - -The alacrity of Cantelucci in producing his snuffbox was equalled by the -deferential flourish with which he held it out to his benefactor. - -"The young English signore," he remarked, "visited the Palazzo of the -Griffins the evening before." - -The doctor helped himself to a pinch. "He didn't spend the night there, -though," he observed. "You know who lives in the Palazzo, don't you, -Cantelucci?" - -"Some Piedmontese general, I understand, Your Excellency," said -Cantelucci, who had been in touch with Count Helion ever since the -Austrian occupation, and had even forwarded secretly one or two letters -for the Count to Elba. But these were addressed to a grain merchant in -Porto Ferraio. "I will open all my mind to Your Excellency," continued -Cantelucci. "An English milord is a person of consequence. If I were to -report his disappearance the police would be coming here to make -investigation. I don't want any police in my house." - -The doctor lost his meditative air. "I daresay you don't," he said -grimly. - -"I recommend myself to Your Excellency's protective influence," murmured -Cantelucci insinuatingly. - -The doctor let drop the pinch of snuff between his thumb and finger. -"And he may have come back while we are talking here," he said -hopefully. "Go down, Cantelucci, and send me my courier." - -But the doctor's man was already at the door, bringing the brushed -clothes over his arm. While dressing, the doctor speculated on the -mystery. It baffled all his conjectures. A man may go out in the evening -for a breath of fresh air and get knocked on the head. But how unlikely! -He spoke casually to his man who was ministering to him in gloomy -silence. - -"You will have to step over to the police presently and find out whether -anything has happened last night. Do it quietly." - -"I understand," said the courier surlily. The thought that the fellow -had been drunk recently crossed the doctor's mind. - -"Whom were you drinking with last night?" he asked sharply. - -"The English servant," confessed the courier-valet grumpily. "His master -let him off his services last night." - -"Yes. And you made him pay the shot." With these words the doctor left -the room. While crossing the great hall downstairs he had the view of -Spire's back framed in the entrance doorway. The valet had not -apparently budged from there since seven. So Mr. Latham had not -returned. In the dining room there were only two naval officers at the -table reserved for them: the elderly gentleman in his usual place at the -head, and a round-faced florid person in a bobbed wig, who might have -been the ship's surgeon. During their meal the doctor did not hear them -exchange a single remark. They went away together, and after the last of -the town customers had left the room, too, the doctor sat alone before -his table, toying with a half-empty glass thoughtfully. His grave face -was startlingly at variance with the short abrupt laugh which he emitted -as he rose, pushing his chair back. It was provoked by the thought that -only last evening he had been urging half jestingly his young countryman -to leave Genoa in one of the conventional ways, by road or sea, and now -he was gone with a vengeance--spirited away, by Jove! The doctor was -startled at the profound change of his own feelings. Count Helion's -venomous, "I don't want that popinjay here" did not sound so funny in -his recollection now. Very extraordinary things could and did happen -under the run of everyday life. Was it possible that the word of the -riddle could be found there? he asked himself. - -This investigator of the secret discontents and aspirations of his time -had never shut his ears to the mere social gossip that came in his way. -He had lived long, he remembered much. For instance, he could remember -things that were said about Sir Charles Latham long before Cosmo was -born. As to the story of the Montevesso marriage, that had made noise -enough in its time in society and also amongst the French émigrés. Its -celebration, the subsequent differences, reconciliations, -recriminations, and final arrangement had kept idle tongues wagging for -years. Of course it was that match which had given that dubious -Montevesso his social standing; and what followed had invested that -absurd individual with the celebrity of a character out of a Molière -comedy: "Le Jaloux." The elderly jealous husband. Comic enough. But that -was the sort of comedy that soon takes a tragic turn. A special -provocation, a sudden opportunity are enough. What puzzled the doctor -was the suddenness of the problem. Yet one could not tell what an -orientalized brute, no stranger probably to palace murders, had not the -means of doing. He might have been harbouring in that barn of a palace -some retainers of a deadly kind. A Corsican desperado, or a couple of -rascals from his own native mountains. Had he not two unattractive old -peasant women concealed there? - -The doctor believed that unlikely things happened every day. This view -was not the result of inborn credulity but of much acquired knowledge of -a secret sort. A serious, fastidious, and obviously earnest-minded young -man, like Latham, was particularly liable to get into trouble of a grave -kind. A manifestation of perfectly innocent sympathy could do it, and -even less. An unguarded glance. An unconscious warmth of tone. Confound -it! Yet he could not let a young countryman of his, a nice, likable -young gentleman, vanish from under his nose without taking some steps. - -The doctor stepped out into the hall, attractively dim and cool in the -middle of the day. Spire had disappeared, but the doctor had given up -the hope of Cosmo's return. In a dark corner he perceived the shadowy -shape of a cocked hat, and made out the old lieutenant leaning back -against the wall with his arms crossed and his chin on his breast. He -had a bottle of wine and a glass standing in front of him. - -"I suppose," thought the doctor, "this is what he comes ashore for." - -The product of twenty years of war. The reeking loom that converted such -as he into food for guns had stopped suddenly. There would be no demand -for heroes for a long, long time, and somehow the fact that the fellow -had all his limbs about him made him even more pathetic. The doctor had -almost forgotten Cosmo. He did not notice Spire coming down the stairs, -and he started at the sound of the words, "I beg your pardon, sir," -uttered almost in his ears. The elderly valet was very much shaken. He -said in a low murmur, "I am nearly out of my mind, sir. My master . . ." - -"I know," interrupted the doctor. He pounced upon Spire like a bird of -prey. "Come, what do you know about it?" - -This reception roused Spire's dislike of that sour and off-hand person -like no medical man he had ever seen and certainly no gentleman. On the -principle, "like master like man," Spire was more sensitive to manner -than to any trait of personality. He pulled himself together and -steadied his voice. "I know nothing, sir, except that you were the last -person seen speaking to Mr. Latham." - -"You don't think I have got him in my pocket, do you?" asked Doctor -Martel, noting the hostile stare. "Don't you attend your master when he -retires for the night?" - -"I got dismissed early last night. I am sorry to say I sat downstairs -after supper very late, listening to tales about one thing and another. -I . . . I went to sleep there," added Spire with a sort of desperation. - -"Listening to tales," repeated the doctor jeeringly. "Pretty tales they -must have been, too. Zillers is no company for a respectable English -servant. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Well, and then?" - -"I went up, sir, and . . ." - -"In the middle of the night," suggested the doctor. - -"It was pretty late. I . . ." - -He faltered at the remembrance. The waking up in the cold dark kitchen, -the cold dark staircase, the light shining through the keyhole of Mr. -Cosmo's bedroom, the first vague feeling that there was something wrong, -the empty room. And most awful of all, the bed not slept in, and the -candles in the candelabras burning low. He remembered his horror, -incredulity, his collapse into an armchair where he sat till broad -daylight in a pitiable state of mental agitation. - -A slight tremor passed through his portly frame before he forced himself -to speak. - -"Mr. Latham had emptied his pockets, sir, as if he were making ready to -go to bed. All the change and the keys were lying on the mantelpiece. -One would think he had been kidnapped. Of course it can't be," he added -in a low, intense tone. - -"Do you mean to say he disappeared without his hat?" asked the doctor. - -"No, sir, hat and cloak aren't there." And to the doctor's further -questions Spire confessed that he had spoken to no one in the house that -morning. He would only have been told lies. He did not think much of the -people in the inn. - -"So I took the liberty of speaking to you, sir. Mr. Latham may turn up -any moment and I don't know that he would like to find that I have been -to the police already." - -"No, perhaps he wouldn't," assented the doctor reflectively. - -"That's just it, sir," murmured Spire. "Mr. Cosmo is a very peculiar -young gentleman. He doesn't like notice to be taken." - -"Doesn't he? Well then, you had better wait before you go to the police. -We had better give him till four o'clock." - -"Very well, sir," said Spire, fighting down his feeling that nothing in -the world would be worse than this waiting. The doctor nodded dismissal, -then at the last moment: - -"By the by, hadn't you better look up all the papers that may be lying -about?" - -Spire was favourably impressed by the suggestion. - -"Yes, sir, we have a small strong box with us. I will go and do it at -once." - -During that colloquy, conducted in low tones at the foot of the grand -staircase, nobody had appeared in the hall. Not even the vigilant -Cantelucci. But the elderly lieutenant had raised his head, and his dull -uninterested eyes followed the doctor across the hall and out through -the door into the sunshine of the square. In all its vast and paved -extent only very few figures were moving. The doctor's tastes and even -his destiny had made of him a nocturnal visitor to the abodes of the -great. At this time of the day, however, there was almost as little risk -of being seen entering the Palace of the Griffins as in the middle of -the night. The populace, the shopkeepers, the Austrian garrison, the -gendarmes, the _sbirri_, the spies, and even the conspirators were -indulging in midday repose. The very team of dapple-gray horses, -harnessed to an enormous two-wheeled cart drawn up in the shade, dozed -over their empty nosebags. Dogs slumbered in the doorways in utter -abandonment; and only the bronze griffins seated on their narrow -pedestals of granite before the doorway of the Palace preserved their -alert wide-awake pose of everlasting watchfulness. They were really very -fine. And the doctor gave them an appreciative glance before crossing -the empty quadrangle. He felt the only wide-awake person in a slumbering -world. He wondered if he would succeed in getting admitted to the -Palace. If not, he confessed to himself, he would be at a loss what to -do next. Very disagreeable. He had, however, the memorandum for the -Marquis in his pocket as a pretext for his visit. - -All was still without and within; but in the noble anteroom at the foot -of the marble staircase he was met by a sight characteristic of the easy -Italian ways. Extended face downward on one of the red and gold benches, -one of the footmen in shirt-sleeves and with his breeches untied at the -knees was sleeping profoundly. His dishevelled head rested on his -forearm. At an unceremonious poke in the ribs he jumped up to his feet, -looking scared and wild. But Doctor Martel was ready for him. - -"What's the matter, my friend?" he asked softly. "Is there a price set -on your head?" - -The man remained open-mouthed as if paralysed by the caustic enquiry. - -"Fetch the major-domo here," commanded the doctor, thinking that he had -seldom seen a more bandit-like figure. While waiting, the doctor -reflected that a livery coat was a good disguise. It occurred to him -also that in the house of a man having such retainers all sorts of -things might happen. This was Italy. The silence as of a tomb, which -pervaded the whole house, though nothing extraordinary in the hour of -siesta, produced the effect of sinister mystery. The arrival of the -sleek Bernard did not destroy that bad impression. The doctor, who had -never seen him before by daylight, said to himself that this was no -doubt only another kind of villain. On learning that the Marquis had -been very ill during the night and that Bernard could not think of -taking in his name, the doctor inquired whether Madame de Montevesso -would see him on most important business. To his great relief (because -he had been asking himself all along how he could contrive to get -private speech with the Countess) Bernard raised no objections. He -simply went away. And again the dumbness around him grew oppressive to -Doctor Martel. He fell into a brown study. This palace, famed for the -treasures of art, for the splendours of its marbles and paintings and -gildings, was no better than a gorgeous tomb. Men's vanity erected these -magnificent abodes only to receive in them the unavoidable guest. Death, -with all the ceremonies of superstitious fear. The sense of human -mortality evoked by this dumb palazzo was very disagreeable. He was -relieved by the return of the noiseless Bernard, all in black and grave -like a sleek caretaker of that particular tomb, who stood before him -saying in a low voice: "Follow me, please." - -Bernard introduced the doctor into a comparatively small, well-lighted -boudoir. At the same moment Madame de Montevesso entered it from her -bedroom by another door. The doctor had an impression of a gown with a -train, trimmed with ribbons and lace, surmounted by a radiant fair head. -The face was pale. Madame de Montevesso had been up most of the night -with her father. The Marquis was too ill to see anybody. - -The doctor expressed his regret in a formal tone. Meantime he took out -of his pocket the memoir and begged Madame la Comtesse to keep it under -lock and key till she could hand it over to her father. He was also in -possession of information which, he said, would be of the greatest -interest to the French court; but he could disclose it only to the -French King or to Monsieur de Jaucourt. He was ready to proceed to Paris -should the Marquis be impressed sufficiently by the memoir to procure -for him a private audience from the King or the minister. - -This curt, businesslike declaration called out a smile on that charming -face--just a flicker--a suspicion of it. He could not be offended with -that glorious being. He felt only that he must assert himself. - -"I cannot deal with lesser people," he said simply. "This must be -understood in Paris. I make my own conditions. I am not a hireling. Your -father has known me for years. Monsieur le Marquis and I met in other, -dangerous times, in various parts of Europe. Each of us was risking his -life." - -The Marquis had often talked with his daughter of his past. She had -heard from him of a certain agent Martel, a singular personage. Her -curiosity was aroused. She said: - -"I know. I believe he was indebted to you for his safety on one -occasion. I can understand my father's motives. But you will forgive me -for saying that as to yours . . ." - -"Oh! It was not the love of absolutism. The fact is, I discovered early -in life that I was not made for a country practice. I started on my -travels with no definite purpose, except to do a little good--here and -there. I arrived in Italy while it was being revolutionized by Jacobins. -I was not in love with them either. Humane impulses, circumstances, and -so on, did the rest." - -He looked straight at her. This tête-à-tête was a unique experience. -She was a marvellous being somehow and a very great lady. And yet she -was as simple as a village maid--a glorified village maid. The trials of -a life of exile and poverty had stripped her of the faintest trace of -affectation or artificiality of any kind. The doctor was lost in wonder. -What humanizing force there was in the beauty of that face to make him -talk like that the first time he saw her! And suddenly the thought, "her -face has been her fortune," came to him with great force, evoking by the -side of her noble unconscious grace the stiff wooden figure of Count de -Montevesso. The effect was horrible, but the doctor's hard gray eyes -betrayed neither his horror nor his indignation. He only asked Madame de -Montevesso, who was locking up his memoir in the drawer of a little -writing table, if it would be safe there, and was told that nobody ever -came into the room but a confidential mulatto maid who had been with the -Countess for years. - -"Yes, as far as you know," the doctor ventured significantly. With this -beginning he found no difficulty in discovering that Madame de -Montevesso knew nothing of the composition of the household. She did not -know how many servants there were. She had not been interested enough to -look over the Palazzo. Apart from the private apartments and the suite -of rooms for small receptions she had seen nothing of it, she confessed, -looking a little surprised. It was clear that she knew nothing, -suspected nothing, had lived in that enormous and magnificent building -like a lost child in a forest. The doctor felt himself at the end of his -resources, till it occurred to him to say that he hoped that she was not -specially anxious about her father. No, Madame de Montevesso was not -specially anxious. He seemed better this morning. Doctor Martel was very -much gratified; and then, by a sudden inspiration, added that it would -be a pleasure to give the good news to Mr. Latham whom he hoped to see -this evening. - -Madame de Montevesso turned rigid with surprise for a moment at the -sound of that name. "You have met Mr. Latham . . ." she faltered out. - -"Oh! By the merest chance. We are staying at the same inn. He shares my -table. He is very attractive." - -Madame de Montevesso looked no longer as though she expected her visitor -to go away. The doctor had just time to note the change before he was -asked point-blank: - -"Did Mr. Latham tell you that he was a friend of ours?" - -He answered evasively that he knew very little about Mr. Latham, except -what he could see for himself--that Mr. Latham was very superior to the -young men of fashion coming over in such numbers from England since the -end of the war. That generation struck him as very crude and utterly -uninteresting. It was different, as far as Mr. Latham was concerned. A -situation had arisen which would make a little information as to his -affairs very desirable. - -"Desirable?" repeated Madame de Montevesso in a whisper. - -"Yes, helpful. . . ." - -The deliberate stress which he put on that word augmented Madame de -Montevesso's bewilderment. - -"I don't quite understand. In what way? Helpful for you--or helpful for -Mr. Latham?" - -"You see," said the doctor slowly, "though our acquaintance was short my -interest was aroused. I am a useful person to know for those who travel -in Italy." - -Madame de Montevesso sank into a _bergère_, pointing at the same time -to a chair which faced it. But the doctor, after a slight bow, only -rested his hand on its high back. At the end of five minutes Adèle was -in possession of all the doctor knew about Cosmo's disappearance. She -sat silent, her head drooped, her eyes cast down. The doctor was -beginning to feel restive when she spoke, without looking up. - -"And this is the real motive for your visit here." - -The doctor was moved by the hopeless tone. It might have been an attempt -to appear indifferent, but, only in a moment, she seemed to have become -lifeless. - -"Well," he said, "on the spur of the moment it seemed the only thing to -do. . . . There is somebody in the next room. May I shut the door?" - -"It's only my maid," said Madame de Montevesso. "She couldn't hear us -from there." - -"Well, then perhaps we had better leave the door as it is. It's best to -avoid all appearance of secrecy." The doctor was thinking of Count -Helion, but Madame de Montevesso made no sign. The doctor lowered his -voice still more. - -"I wanted to ask you if you had seen him yesterday--last night. No? But -he may have called without your knowledge." - -She admitted that it was possible. People had been sent away from the -door on account of her father's illness. There had been no reception in -the evening. But Mr. Latham would have asked for her. She thought she -would have been told. The doctor suggested that Mr. Latham might have -asked for the Count. Madame de Montevesso had only seen her husband for -a moment in her father's bedroom the day before, and not at all yet this -day. For all she knew he may have been away for the day on a visit in -the country. "But I know nothing of his interests, really," she said in -a little less deadened voice. - -She could not explain to the doctor that she was a stranger in that -house; an unwilling visitor with an unsympathetic host whose motives one -cannot help suspecting. Beyond the time she spent by arrangement every -year at Count de Montevesso's country house she knew nothing of his -life. What could have been the motives which brought him to Genoa, she -had and could have not the slightest idea. She only felt that she ought -not to have accepted his pressing invitation to this hired palazzo. But -then she could not have come with her father to Genoa. And yet he could -not have done without her. And indeed it seemed but a small thing. The -alarming thought crossed her mind that, all unwittingly, she had taken a -fatal step. - -The doctor, who had quite an accurate notion of the state of affairs, -hastened to say: - -"After all, I don't know that this is of any importance. I have heard -that Mr. Latham was busy writing all yesterday. If he had come to Italy -with some sort of purpose," he continued as if arguing with himself, -"one could . . ." Then sharply: "You couldn't tell me anything, could -you?" he asked Adèle. - -"This is the first time I have seen him for ten years." Madame de -Montevesso raised her eyes, full of trouble, to the doctor's face. -"Since we were children together in Yorkshire. We talked of old times. -Only of old times," she repeated. - -"Of course--very natural," mumbled the doctor. He made the mental remark -that one did not disappear like this after talking of old times. And -aloud he said, "I suppose Mr. Latham made the acquaintance of Count de -Montevesso." - -"Certainly." - -"I presume that they had an opportunity to have a conversation -together." - -"I don't think that Cosmo--that Mr. Latham made any confidences to Count -de Montevesso." While saying those words Adèle looked the doctor -straight in the face. - -He was asking himself whether she could read his thoughts, when she got -up suddenly and walked away to the window, without haste and with a -grace of movement which aroused the doctor's admiration. He could not -tell her what he had in his mind. He looked irresolutely at the figure -in the window. It was growing enigmatic in its immobility. He began to -feel some little awe, when he heard unexpectedly the words: - -"You suspect a crime?" - -The doctor could not guess the effort which went to the uttering of -those few words. It was the stunning force of the shock which enabled -Adèle de Montevesso to appear so calm. It was the general humanity of -Doctor Martel's disposition which dictated his answer. - -"I suspect some imprudence," he admitted in an easy tone. At that moment -he drew the gloomiest view of Cosmo's disappearance, from the sinister -conviction that twenty-four hours was enough to arrange an -assassination. "The difficulty is to imagine a cause for it. To find the -motive. . . ." - -Madame de Montevesso continued to face the window as if lost in the -contemplation of a vast landscape. "And you came to look for it here," -she said. - -"I don't think I need to apologize," he said, with a movement of -annoyance like a man who has received a home thrust. "Of course I might -have simply gone about my own affairs, which are of some importance to a -good many people. My advice to Mr. Latham was to leave Genoa, since he -did not seem to have any object in remaining and seemed to have a -half-formed wish to visit Elba. I suggested Leghorn as the best port for -crossing over." - -It was impossible to say whether the woman at the window was listening -to him at all. She did not stir, she seemed to have forgotten his -existence. But that immobility might have been also the effect of -concentrated attention. He made up his mind to go on speaking. - -"His mind, his imagination seemed very busy wit! Napoleon. It seemed to -me the only reason for his travels." He paused. - -"I believe the only reason for Mr. Latham coming to Genoa was to see -us." Madame de Montevesso turned round and moved back towards the -_bergère._ She was extremely pale. "I mean Father and myself," she -explained. "He came to see me the day before yesterday in the morning. I -invited him to our usual evening reception. He stayed after everybody -else was gone. I asked him to. But my father needed me and I had to -leave Mr. Latham with Monsieur de Montevesso." - -The doctor interrupted her gently. "I know, Madame. I was in the Palazzo -with the Marquis, in the very room, when he sent for your husband." - -"I forgot," confessed Madame de Montevesso simply. "But Mr. Latham got -back to his inn safely." - -"Yes. He was writing letters next day till late in the evening, and -seems to have been spirited away in the middle of that occupation. But -people like Mr. Latham are not spirited out of their bedrooms by main -force. I advised the servant to wait till four o'clock, then I came -straight here." - -"Till four o'clock," repeated Madame de Montevesso under her breath. - -The doctor, a man of special capacity in confronting enigmatical -situations, showed himself as perplexed before this one as the most -innocent of mortals. - -"I don't know. It seems to me that a man who puts on his hat and cloak -before vanishing like this must turn up again. He ought to be given a -chance to do so at any rate. He left all his money behind, too. I mean -even to the small change." - -The glimpse of helpless concern in that man affected Adèle with a -feeling of actual bodily anguish. She got brusquely out of the -_bergère_ and moved into the middle of the room. The doctor, letting go -the back of the chair, turned to face her. - -"I am appalled," she murmured. - -This came out as if extracted from her by torture. It moved the doctor -more than anything he had heard for years. His voice sank into a -soothing murmur. - -"I do believe, Madame, that if there had been a murder committed last -night anywhere in this town I would have heard something about it this -morning. My inn is just the place for such news. I will go back there -now. I shall question his servant again. He may give us a gleam of -light." - -Her intent, distressed gaze was unbearable, yet held him bound to the -spot. It was difficult to abandon a woman in that state! He became aware -of the sound of voices outside the door. Some sort of dispute. He -hastened to make his bow, and Madame de Montevesso, moving after him, -whispered eagerly: "Yes! A gleam of light! Do let me know. I won't draw -a free breath till I hear something." - -Her extended arms dropped by her side a moment before the door flew open -and Bernard was heard announcing with calm formality: - -"Signorina Clelia." - -The doctor, turning away from Madame de Montevesso, saw "that little -wretch" standing just within the room, evidently very much taken aback -by the unexpected meeting. He guessed that she had snatched at some -opportunity to escape from the old women. It had given her no time to -pull on her stockings, a fact made evident by the shortness of the dark -petticoat which, with a white jacket, comprised all her costume. She had -managed to thrust her bare feet into a pair of old slippers, and her -loose hair, tied with a blue ribbon at the back of her head, produced a -most incongruous effect of neatness. Her invasion was alarming and -inexplicable. The doctor, as he passed out, compressed his lips and -stared fiercely with some idea of scaring her into good behaviour. She -met this demonstration with a round stupid stare of astonishment. The -next moment he found himself outside in the corridor alone with Bernard, -who had shut the door quietly and remained with his back to it. The -exasperated doctor looked him up and down coolly. - -"How long have you been in the habit of hanging about your lady's door, -my friend?" he asked with ominous familiarity. - -The simple-minded factotum of the London days, the love-lorn naïve -swain of the mulatto maid, was a figure of the past now. The doctor was -confronted by a calm unmoved servant of much experience, somewhat -inclining to stoutness, made respectable by the black well-fitting -clothes. He did not flinch at the question, but he took his time. At -last he said with the utmost placidity: - -"Many years now. Pretty near all my life." - -The tone was well calculated to surprise the doctor. Taking advantage of -the latter's silence, Bernard paused before he continued reasonably: -"Was I to let her rush in unannounced on Madame la Comtesse while you -were there? I tried to send her away but she would think nothing of -filling the air with her screams. I kept her back as long as it was -prudent. . ." He raised his open hand, palm outwards, warning the doctor -to remain silent, while with conscientious gravity he applied his big -ear to the door. When he came away he did not apparently intend to take -any further notice of the doctor, but stood there with an air of perfect -rectitude. - -"Is that your constant practice?" asked the astonished doctor, with -curiosity rather than indignation. "Suppose I told on you," he added -with a glance at the door. "Suppose somebody else gave you away. . . ." - -"You would not be thanked," was the unexpected answer. - -"I wouldn't be believed--is that it? Well, I confess that I can hardly -believe my own eyes." - -"Oh, you would be believed," was the ready but dispassionate admission. -Bernard's trust in his interlocutor's acuteness was not deceived. - -"Do you mean that you have been found out already?" said the doctor in a -changed tone. "Whew! You don't say! Well, stranger things have happened. -Whose old retainer are you?" - -"I have always belonged to Madame la Comtesse," said the old retainer -without looking at the doctor, who, after some meditation, accepted the -statement at its face value. - -"I am staying at Cantelucci's inn," he said in an ordinary -conversational tone. "And I would be glad to see you there any time you -like to call. Especially if you had anything to tell me of Mr. Latham." -Bernard not responding in any way to that invitation, the doctor added, -"You know what I mean?" - -"Oh, yes, I know what you mean." That answer came coldly from the lips -of the respectable servant, who said nothing more while conscientiously -escorting the doctor to the anteroom at the foot of the grand staircase. -A little bowed old woman in black clothes clung to the balustrade half -way down the marble steps, in the act of descending, while another, -taller and upright, hovered anxiously on the landing above. Bernard's -scandalized, "Go away! Go back!" sounded irresistibly authoritative. The -doctor had no doubt that it would send the two crones back to their -lair, but he did not stop to see. - -Bernard went up the staircase slowly to the first landing, where he -watched the retreat of the two weird apparitions down a long and dim -corridor. They were very much intimidated by this man in black and with -a priestly aspect. One of them, however, made a stand, and screamed in -an angry cracked voice, "Where's the child? The child! We are looking -for her." - -"Why don't you take her back to your village and keep her there?" he -cried out sternly. "I have seen her. She won't get lost." - -A distant door slammed. They had vanished as if blown away by his voice; -and Bernard with a muttered afterthought, "More's the pity," continued -up one flight of stairs after another till he reached the wilderness of -the garrets that once upon a time had been inhabited by a multitude of -servants and retainers. The room he entered was low and sombre, with -rough walls and a vast bare floor. His wife Aglae sat on the edge of the -bed, with her hands in her lap and downcast eyes which she did not raise -at his entrance. He looked at her with a serious and friendly expression -before he sat down by her side. And even then she did not move. He took -her tragic immobility in silence as a matter of course. His face, which -had never been very mobile, had acquired with years a sort of blank -dignity. It had been the work of years, of those married years which had -crushed the last vestiges of pertness out of the more emotional Aglae. -When she whispered to him, "Bernard, this thing kill me a little every -day," he felt moved to put his arm round his wife's waist and made a -mental remark which always occurred to him poignantly on such occasions, -that she had grown very thin. In the trials of a life which had not kept -its promise of contented bliss, he had been most impressed by the loss -of that plumpness which years ago was so much appreciated by him. It -seemed to give to that plaint which he had heard before more than once -an awful sort of reality, a dreadful precision. . . . A little. . . . -Every day. - -He took his arm away brusquely and got up. - -"I thought I would find you here," he remarked in an indifferent marital -tone. "That man has gone now," he added. - -With a deep sigh the maid of Madame de Montevesso struggled out of the -depths of despondency, only to fall a prey to anxiety. - -"Oh, Bernard, what did that man want with Miss Adèle?" - -Bernard knew enough to have formed a conjecture that English fellow must -have either left some papers or a message for the Marquis with Madame de -Montevesso. - - - - -PART IV - - -I - - -In what seemed to him a very short time Cosmo found himself under the -colonnade separating the town piled upon the hills from the flat ground -of the waterside. A profound quietness reigned on the darkly polished -surface of the harbour and the long, incurved range of the quays. This -quietness that surrounded him on all sides through which, beyond the -spars of clustered coasters, he could look at the night-horizon of the -open sea, relieved that fantastic feeling of confinement within his own -body with its intolerable tremors and shrinkings and imperious -suggestions. Mere weaknesses all. His desire, however, to climb to the -top of the tower, as if only there complete relief could be found for -his captive spirit, was as strong as ever. - -The only light on shore he could see issued in a dim streak from the -door of the guardhouse which he had passed on his return from the tower -on his first evening in Genoa. As he did not wish to pass near the -Austrian sentry at the head of the landing-steps, Cosmo, instead of -following the quay, kept under the portico at the back of the -guardhouse. When he came to its end he had a view of the squat bulk of -the tower across a considerable space of flat waste ground extending to -the low rocks of the seashore. He made for it with the directness of a -man possessed by a fixed idea. When he reached the iron-studded low door -within the deep dark archway at the foot of the tower he found it -immovable. Locked! How stupid! As if those heavy ship guns up there -could be stolen! Disappointed, he leaned his shoulders against the side -of the deep arch, lingering as people will before the finality of a -closed door or of a situation without issue. - -His superstitious mood had left him. An old picture was an old picture; -and probably the face of that noble saint copied from an old triptych -and of Madame de Montevesso were not at all alike. At most, a suggestion -which may have been the doing of the copyist and so without meaning. A -copyist is not an inspired person; not a seer of visions. He felt -critical, almost ironic, towards the Cosmo of the morning, the Cosmo of -the day, the Cosmo rushing away like a scared child from a fanciful -resemblance, that probably did not even exist. What was he doing there? -He might have asked the way to the public gardens. Lurking within the -dark archway, muffled up in his blue cloak, he was a suspect figure like -an ambushed spadassin waiting for his victim, or a conspirator hiding -from the minions of a tyrant. "I am perfectly ridiculous," he thought. -"I had better go back as soon as I can." This was his sudden conclusion, -but he did not move. It struck him that he was not anxious to face his -empty room. Was he ready to get into another panic? he asked himself -scornfully. . . . At that moment he heard distinctly the sound of -whispering as if through the wall, or from above or from the ground. He -held his breath. The whispering went on, loquacious. When it stopped, -another voice, as low but deeper and more distinct, muttered the words: -"The hour is past." - -Ha! Whispers in the air, sounds wandering without bodies, as mysterious -as though they had come across a hundred miles, for he had heard no -footsteps, no rustle, no sound of any sort. Nothing but the two voices. -They were so weirdly disembodied and unbelievable that he had to clothe -them in attributes: the excitable--the morose. They were quite near. But -he did not know on which side of the arch within which he was hiding. -For he was frankly hiding now--no doubt about it. He had remembered that -he had left his pistols by his bedside. And he was certain he would hear -the voices again. The wait seemed long before the fluent-loquacious came -back through space and was punctually followed by the deep voice which -this time emitted only an unintelligible grunt. - -The disagreeable sense of having no means of defence in case of -necessity prevented Cosmo from leaving the shelter of the deep arch. Two -men, the excitable and the morose, were within a foot of him. -Remembering that the tower was accessible on its seaward face, Cosmo -surmised that they had just landed from a boat and had crept round -barefooted, secret and, no doubt, ready to use their knives. Smugglers -probably. That they should ply their trade within three hundred yards of -the guardroom with a sentry outside did not surprise him very much. -These were Austrian soldiers, ignorant of local conditions and certainly -not concerned with the prevention of smuggling. Why didn't these men go -about their business, then? The road was clear. But perhaps they had -gone? It seemed to him he had been there glued to that door for an hour. -As a matter of fact it was not ten minutes. Cosmo, who had no mind to be -stabbed through a mere mistake as to his character, was just thinking of -making a dash in the direction of the guardhouse when the morose but -cautiously lowered voice began, close to the arch, abruptly: "Where did -the beast get to? I thought a moment ago he was coming. Didn't you think -too that there were footsteps--just as we landed?" - -Cosmo's uplifted foot came down to the ground. Of the excitable -whisperer's long rigmarole not a word could be made out. Cosmo imagined -him short and thick. The other, whom Cosmo pictured to himself as lean -and tall, uttered the word, "Why?" The excitable man hissed fiercely: -"To say good-bye."--"Devil take all these women," commented the morose -voice dispassionately. The whisper, now raised to the pitch of a -strangled wheeze, remarked with some feeling: "He may never see her -again." - -It was clear they had never even dreamt of any human being besides -themselves having anything to do on this part of the shore at this hour -of the night. "Won't they be frightened when I rush out," thought Cosmo -taking off his cloak and throwing it over his left forearm. If it came -to an encounter he could always drop it. But he did not seriously think -that he would be reduced to using his fists. - -He judged it prudent to leave the archway with a bound which would get -him well clear of the tower, and on alighting faced about quickly. He -heard an exclamation but he saw no one. They had bolted! He would have -laughed had he not been startled himself by a shot fired somewhere in -the distance behind his back--the most brutally impressive sound that -can break the silence of the night. Instantly, as if it had been a -signal, a lot of shouting broke on his ear, yells of warning and -encouragement, a savage clamour which made him think of a lot of people -pursuing a mad dog. He advanced, however, in the direction of the -portico, wishing himself out of the way of this odious commotion, when -the flash of a musket shot showed him for a moment the tilted head in a -shako and the white cross-belts of an Austrian soldier standing erect in -the middle of the open ground. Cosmo stopped short, then inclined to the -left, moving cautiously and staring into the darkness. The yelling had -died out gradually away from the seashore, where he remembered a cluster -of the poorer sort of houses nestled under the cliffs. He could not -believe that the shot could have been fired at him, till another flash -and report of a musket followed by the whizz of the bullet very near his -hand persuaded him to the contrary. Thinking of nothing but getting out -of the line of fire, he stooped low and ran on blindly till his shoulder -came in contact with some obstacle extremely hard and perfectly -immovable. - -He put his hand on it, felt it rough and cold, and discovered it was a -stone, an enormous square block such as are used in building -breakwaters. Several others were lying about in a cluster like a -miniature village on a miniature plain. He crept amongst them, spread -his cloak on the ground, and sat down with his back against one of the -blocks. He wondered at the marvellous eyesight of that confounded -soldier. He was not aware that his dark figure had the starry sky for a -background. "He nearly had me," he thought. His whole being recoiled -with disgust from the risk of getting a musket ball through his body. He -resolved to remain where he was till all that incomprehensible -excitement had quietened down and that brute with wonderful powers of -vision had gone away. Then his road would be clear. He would give him -plenty of time. - -The stillness all around continued, becoming more convincing, as the -time passed, inits suggestion of everything being over, convincing -enough to shame timidity itself. Why this reluctance to go back to his -room? What was a room in an inn, in any house? A small portion of space -forced off with bricks or stones in which innumerable individuals had -been alone with their good and evil thoughts, temptations, fears, -troubles of all sorts, and had gone out without leaving a trace. This -train of thought led him to the reflection that no man could leave his -troubles behind . . . never . . . never. . . . "It's no use trying," he -thought with despair. Why should he go to Livorno? What would be the -good of going home? Lengthening the distance would be like lengthening a -chain. What use would it be to get out of sight? . . . "If I were to be -struck blind to-morrow it wouldn't help me." He forgot where he was till -the convincing silence round him crumbled to pieces before a faint and -distant shout which recalled him to the sense of his position. Presently -he heard more shouting, still distant but much nearer. This took his -mind from himself and started his imagination on another track. The man -hunt was not over, then! The fellow had broken cover again and had been -headed towards the tower. He depicted the hunted man to himself as -long-legged, spare, agile, for no other reason than because he wished -him to escape. He wondered whether the soldier with the sharp eyes would -give him a shot. But no shot broke the silence which had succeeded the -distant shouts. Got away perhaps? At least for a time. Very possibly he -had stabbed somebody and . . . by heaven! here he was! - -Cosmo had caught the faint sound of running feet on the hard ground. And -even before he had decided that it was no illusion it stopped short and -a bulky object fell hurtling from the sky so near to him that Cosmo -instinctively drew in his legs with a general start of his body which -caused him to knock his hat off against the stone. He became aware of a -man's back almost within reach of his arm. There could be no doubt he -had taken a leap over the stone and had landed squatting on his heels. -Cosmo expected him to rebound and vanish, but he only extended his arm -to seize the hat as it rolled past him and at the same moment pivoted on -his toes, preserving his squatting posture. - -"If he happens to have a knife in his hand he will plunge it into me," -thought Cosmo. So without moving a limb he hastened to say in a loud -whisper: "Run to the tower. Your friends are waiting for you." It was a -sudden inspiration. The man without rising flung himself forward full -length and, propped on his arms, brought his face close to Cosmo. His -white eyeballs seemed to be starting out of his head. In this position -the silence between them lasted for several seconds. - -"My friends, but who are you?" muttered the man. - -And then the recognition came, instantaneous and mutual. Cosmo simply -said, "Hallo!" while the man, letting himself fall to the ground, -uttered in a voice faint with emotion, "My Englishman!" - -"There were two of them," said Cosmo. - -"Two? Did they see you?" - -Cosmo assured him that they had not. The other, still agitated by the -unexpectedness of that meeting, asked, incredulous and even a little -suspicious: "What am I to think, then? How could you know that they were -my friends?" - -Cosmo disregarded the question. "You will be caught if you linger here," -he whispered. - -The other, as though he had not heard the warning, insisted: "How could -they have mentioned my name to you?" - -"They mentioned no names. . . . Run." - -"I don't think they are there now," said the fugitive. - -"Yes. There was noise enough to scare anybody away," commented Cosmo. -"What have you done?" - -The other made no answer, and in the pause both men listened intently. -The night remained dark. Cosmo thought: "Some smuggling affair," and the -other muttered to himself, "I have misled them." He sat up by the side -of Cosmo and put Cosmo's hat, which he had been apparently holding all -the time, on the ground between them. - -"You are a cool hand," said Cosmo. "The soldiers . . ." - -"Who cares for the soldiers? They can't run." - -"They have muskets, though." - -"Oh, yes. I heard the shots and wondered at whom they were fired." - -"At me. That's why I have got in here. There is one of them who can see -in the dark," explained Cosmo, who had been very much impressed. His -friend of the tower emitted a little chuckle. - -"And so you have hidden yourself in here. Soldiers, water, and fire soon -make room for themselves. But they did not know who they were after. -They got the alarm from that beast." - -He paused suddenly, and Cosmo asked: "Who was after you?" - -"One traitor and God knows how many _sbirri._ If they had been only ten -minutes later they would have never set eyes on me." - -"I wonder they didn't manage to cut you off, if they were so many," said -Cosmo. - -"They didn't know. Look! Even now I have deceived them by doubling back. -You see I was in a house." He seemed to hesitate. - -"Oh, yes," said Cosmo. "Saying good-bye." - -The man by his side made a slight movement and preserved a profound -silence for a time. - -"As I have no demon," he began slowly, "to keep me informed about other -people's affairs, I must ask you what you were doing here?" - -"Why, taking the air like that other evening. But why don't you try to -get away while there is time?" - -"Yes, but where?" - -"You were going to leave Genoa," said Cosmo. "Either on a very long or a -very deadly journey." - -Again the man by his side made a movement, of surprise and remained -silent for a while. This was very extraordinary, as though some devil -having his own means to obtain knowledge had taken on himself for a -disguise the body of an Englishman of the kind that travels and stays in -inns. The acquaintance of Cosmo's almost first horn in Genoa was very -much puzzled and a little suspicious, not as before something dangerous -but as before something inexplicable, obscure to his mind like the -instruments that fate makes use of sometimes in the affairs of men. - -"So you did see two men a little while ago waiting for me?" - -"I did not see them. They seemed to think you were late," was the -surprising answer. - -"And how do you know they were waiting for me?" - -"I didn't," said Cosmo naturally. And the other muttered a remark that -he was glad to hear of something that Cosmo did not know. But Cosmo -continued: "Of course I didn't, not till you jumped in here." - -The other made a gesture requesting silence and lent his ear to the -unbroken stillness of the surroundings. - -"Signore," he said suddenly in a very quiet and distinct whisper, "it -may be true that I was about to leave this town, but I never thought of -leaving it by swimming. No doubt the noise was enough to frighten -anybody away, but it has been quiet enough now for a long time and I -think that I will crawl on as far as the tower to see whether perchance -they didn't think it worth while to bring their boat back to the foot of -the tower. I have put my enemies off the track and I fancy they are -looking for me in very distant places from here. The treachery, signore, -was not in the telling them where I was. Anybody with eyes could have -seen me walking about Genoa. No, it was in the telling them who I was." - -He paused again to listen and suddenly changed his position, drawing in -his legs. - -"Well," said Cosmo, "I myself wonder who you are." He noticed the -other's eyes rolling, and the whisper came out of his lips much faster -and, as it were, more confidential. - -"Attilio, at your service," the mocking whisper fell into Cosmo's ear. -"I see the signore is not so much of a wizard as I thought." Then with -great rapidity: "Should the signore find something, one never knows, -Cantelucci would be the man to give it to." - -And suddenly with a half turn he ran off on all fours, looking for an -instant monstrous and vanishing so suddenly that Cosmo remained -confounded. He was trying to think what all this might mean, when his -ears were invaded by the sound of many footsteps and before he could -make a move to get up he found himself surrounded by quite a number of -men. As a matter of fact there were only four; but they stood close over -him as he sat on the ground, their dark figures blotting all view, with -an overpowering effect. Very prudently Cosmo did not attempt to rise; he -only picked up his hat, and as he did so it seemed to him that there was -something strange about the feel of it. When he put it on his head some -object neither very hard nor very heavy fell on the top of his head. He -repressed the impulse to have a look at once. "What on earth can it be?" -he thought. It felt like a parcel of papers. It was certainly flat. An -awestruck voice said, "That's a foreigner." Another muttered, "What's -this deviltry?" As Cosmo made an attempt to rise with what dignity he -might, the nearest of the band stooped with alacrity and caught hold of -his arm above the elbow as if to help him up, with a muttered, -"_Permesso, signore._" And as soon as he regained his feet his other arm -was seized from behind by someone else without any ceremony. A slight -attempt to shake himself free convinced Cosmo that they meant to stick -on. - -"Would it be an accomplice?" wondered a voice. - -"No. Look at his hat. That's an Englishman." - -"So much the worse. They are very troublesome. Authority is nothing to -them." - -All this time one or another would take a turn to peer closely into -Cosmo's face, in a way which struck him as offensive. Cosmo had not the -slightest doubt that he was in the hands of the municipal _sbirri._ That -strange Attilio had detected their approach from afar. "He might have -given me a warning," he thought. His annoyance with the fugitive did not -last long; but he began to be angry with his captors, of which every -one, he noticed, carried a cudgel. - -"What authority have you to interfere with me?" he asked haughtily. The -wretch who was holding his right arm murmured judicially: "An Inglese, -without a doubt." A stout man in a wide-brimmed hat, who was standing in -front of him, grunted: "The authority of four against one," then -addressed his companions to the general effect that he didn't know what -the world was coming to if foreigners were allowed to mix themselves up -with conspirators. It looked as if they had been at a loss what to do -with their captive. One of them insinuated: "I don't know. Those -foreigners have plenty of money and are impatient of restraint. A poor -man may get a chance." - -Cosmo thought that probably each of them was provided with a stiletto. -Nothing prevented them from stabbing him in several places, weighting -his body with some stones from the seashore, and throwing it into the -water. What an unlucky reputation to have! He remembered that he had no -money with him. The few coins he used to carry in his pocket were lying -on his mantelpiece in the bedroom at the inn. This would have made no -difference if those men had been bandits, since they would not be aware -of the emptiness of his pockets. "I could have probably bribed them to -let me go," he thought, after he had heard the same man add with a -little laugh, "I mean obliging poor men. Those English _signori_ are -rich and harmless." - -Cosmo regretted more than ever not being able to make them an offer. It -would have been probably successful, as they seemed to be in doubt what -to do next. He mentioned he was living at the Casa Graziani. "If one of -you will go with me there you shall be recompensed for your trouble." No -answer was made to that proposal except that one of the men coughed -slightly. Their chief in a hat with an enormous brim seemed lost in deep -thought, and his immobility in front of Cosmo appeared to the latter -amusingly mysterious and sinister. A sort of nervous impatience came -over Cosmo, an absurd longing to tear himself away and make a dash for -liberty, and then an absurd discouragement as though he were a criminal -with no hiding-place to make for. The man in the big hat jerked up his -head suddenly and disclosed the irritable state of his feelings at the -failure of getting hold of that _furfante._ "As to that Englishman," he -continued in his rasping voice not corresponding to his physical bulk, -"let him be taken to the guardroom. He will have to show his papers." - -Cosmo was provoked to say: "Do you expect a gentleman to carry his -papers with him when he goes out for a walk?" - -He was disconcerted by an outburst of laughter on three sides of him. -The leader in the hat did not laugh; he only said bitterly; "We expect -papers from a man we find hiding." - -"Well, I have no papers on me," said Cosmo, and immediately in a sort of -mental illumination thought, "Except in my hat." Of course that object -reposing on the top of his head was a bundle of papers, dangerous -documents. Attilio was a conspirator. Obviously! The mysterious allusion -to something he was to find and hand over to Cantelucci became clear to -Cosmo. He felt very indignant with his mysterious acquaintance. "Of -course he couldn't foresee I was going to get into this predicament," he -thought, as if trying to find an excuse for him already. - -"_Avanti_," commanded the man in front of him. - -The grip on his arm of the two others tightened, resistance was no use -though he felt sorely tempted again to engage in a struggle. If only he -could free himself for a moment, dash off into the darkness, and throw -that absurd packet away somewhere before they caught him again. It was a -sort of solution; but he discovered in himself an unsuspected and -unreasoning loyalty. "No! Somebody would find it and take it to the -police," he thought. "If we come near the quay I may manage to fling it -on the water." - -He said with lofty negligence: "You needn't hold my arms." - -This suggestion was met by a profound silence. Neither of the men -holding him relaxed his grasp. Another was treading close on his heels, -while the police-hound in the big hat marched a couple of paces in front -of him, importantly. - -Before long they approached the guardhouse close enough for Cosmo to see -the sentry at the foot of the steps, who challenged them militarily. The -shim in the hat advanced alone and made himself known in the light -streaming through the door. It was too late to attempt anything. As he -was impelled by his two captors inside the guardroom, which was lighted -by a smoky lamp and also full of tobacco smoke, Cosmo thought, "I am in -for it. What a horrible nuisance! I wonder whether they will search me?" - -At Cosmo's entrance with his escort several soldiers reclining on the -floor raised their heads. It was a small place which may have been used -as a store for sails or cordage. The furniture consisted of one long -bench, a rack of muskets, a table, and one chair. A sergeant sitting on -that chair rose and talked with the head _sbirro_ for a time in a -familiar and interested manner about the incidents of the chase, before -he even looked at Cosmo. Cosmo could not hear the words. The sergeant -was a fine man with long black moustaches and a great scar on his cheek. -He nodded from time to time in an understanding manner to the man in the -hat, whom the light of the guardroom disclosed as the possessor of very -small eyes, a short thick beard, and a pear-shaped yellow physiognomy -which had a pained expression. At the suggestion of the _sbirri_ (they -had let him go) Cosmo sat down on a bench running along the wall. Part -of it was occupied by a soldier stretched at full length with his head -on his knapsack and with his shako hung above him on the wall. He was -profoundly asleep. "Perhaps that's the fellow who took those shots at -me," thought Cosmo. Another of the _sbirri_ approached Cosmo and with a -propitiatory smile handed him his cloak. Cosmo had forgotten all about -it. - -"I carried it behind the signore all the way," he murmured with an air -of secrecy; and Cosmo was moved to say: "You ought to have brought it to -me at Cantelucci's inn," in a significant tone. The man made a -deprecatory gesture and said in a low voice: "The signore may want it -to-night." - -He was young. His eyes met Cosmo's without flinching. - -"I see," whispered Cosmo. "What is going to be done with me?" The man -looked away indifferently and said: "I am new at this work; but there is -a post of royal gendarmerie on the other side of the harbour." - -He threw himself on the bench by Cosmo's side, stretched his legs out, -folded his arms across his breast, and yawned unconcernedly. - -"Can I trust him?" Cosmo asked himself. Nobody seemed to pay any -attention to him. The _sbirro_ in the hat bustled out of the guardroom -in great haste; the other two remained on guard; the sergeant sitting -astride the chair folded his arms on the back of it and stared at the -night through the open door. The _sbirro_ by Cosmo's side muttered, -looking up at the ceiling: "I think Barbone is gone to find a boatman." -From this Cosmo understood that he was going to be taken across the -harbour and given up to the gendarmes. He thought, "If they insist upon -searching me I would have to submit and in any case a hat is not a -hiding-place. I may just as well hand the packet over without a -struggle." A bright idea struck him. "If those fellows take me over -there in a boat to save themselves the trouble of walking round the -harbour I will simply contrive to drop my hat overboard--even if they do -hold my arms during the passage." He was now convinced that Attilio -belonged to some secret society. He certainly was no common fellow. He -wondered what had happened to him. Was he slinking and dodging about the -low parts of the town on his way to some refuge; or had he really found -the excitable man and the grumpy man still waiting under the tower with -a boat? Most unlikely after such an alarming commotion of yells and -shots. He feared that Attilio, unable to get away, could hardly avoid -being caught to-morrow, or at the furthest next day. He himself -obviously did not expect anything better; or else he would not have been -so anxious to get rid of those papers. Cosmo concluded that conspirators -were perfectly absurd with their passion for documents, which were -invariably found at a critical time and sent them all to the gallows. - -He noticed the eyes of the sergeant, a Croat, with pendent black -moustaches, fixed on his hat, and at once felt uneasy as if he had -belonged to a secret society himself. His hat was the latest thing in -men's round hats which he had bought in Paris. But, almost directly, the -sergeant's eyes wandered off to the doorway and resumed their stare. -Cosmo was relieved. He decided, however, to attempt no communication -with the young police fellow whose lounging attitude, abandoned and -drowsy, and almost touching elbows with him, seemed to Cosmo too -suggestive to be trustworthy. And indeed, he reflected, what could he do -for him? - -His excitement about this adventure was combined in a strange way with a -state of inward peace which he had not known for hours. He wondered at -his loyalty to the astute Attilio. He would have been justified in -regarding the transaction as a scurvy trick; whereas he found that he -could not help contemplating it as a matter of trust. He went on -exercising his wits upon the problem of those documents (he was sure -those were papers of some kind) which he had been asked to give to -Cantelucci (how surprised he would be), since apparently the innkeeper -was a conspirator too. Yet, he thought, it would be better to destroy -them than to let them fall into the hands of the Piedmontese justice, or -the Austrian military command. "I must contrive," he thought, "to get -rid of them in the boat. I can always shake my hat overboard -accidentally." But the packet would float and some boatman would be sure -to find it during the day. On the other hand, by the time daylight came -the handwriting would probably have become illegible. Or perhaps not? -Fire, not water, was what he needed. If there had been a fire in that -inexpressibly dirty guardroom he would have made use of it at once under -the very noses of those wild-looking Croats. But would that have been -the proper thing to do in such a hurry? - -He had not come to any conclusion before Barbone returned, accompanied -by a silver-haired, meek old fellow, with a nut-brown face, bare-footed -and bare-armed, and carrying a pair of sculls over his shoulder, whom -Barbone pushed in front of the sergeant. The latter took his short pipe -out of his mouth, spat on one side, looked at the old man with a fixed -savage stare, and finally nodded. At Cosmo he did not look at all, but -to Barbone he handed a key with the words, "Bring it back." The _sbirri_ -closed round Cosmo and Barbone uttered a growl with a gesture towards -the door. Why Barbone should require a key to take him out of doors -Cosmo could not understand. Unless it were the key of liberty. But it -was not likely that the fierce Croat and the gloomy Barbone should have -indulged in symbolic actions. The mariner with the sculls on his -shoulder followed the group patiently to where, on the very edge of the -quay, the Austrian soldier with his musket shouldered paced to and fro -across the streak of reddish light from the garrison door. He swung -round and stood, very martial, in front of the group, but at the sight -of the key exhibited to him by Barbone moved out of the way. The air was -calm but chilly. Below the level of the quay there was the clinking of -metal and the rattling of small chains, and Cosmo then discovered that -the key belonged to a padlock securing the chain to which quite a lot of -small rowing boats were moored. The young policeman said from behind -into Cosmo's ear, "The signore is always forgetting his cloak," and -threw it lightly on Cosmo's shoulders. He explained also that every -night all the small boats in the port were collected and secured like -this on both sides of the port and the Austrians furnished the sentry to -look after them on this side. The object was that there should be no -boats moving after ten o'clock, except the galley of the _dogana_ and of -course the boat of the English man-of-war. - -"Come and see me at noon at Cantelucci's inn," whispered Cosmo, to which -the other breathed out a "Certainly, Excellency," feelingly before going -up the steps. - -Cosmo found himself presently sitting in a boat between two _sbirri._ -The ancient fellow shoved off and shipped his oars. From the quay, high -above, Barbone's voice shouted to him, "The gendarmes will take charge -of your boat for the rest of the night." The old boatman's only answer -was a deep sigh, and in a very few strokes the quay with the sentry -receded into the darkness. One of the _sbirri_ remarked in a tone of -satisfaction, "Our service will be over after we have given up the -signore there." The other said, "I hope the signore will consider we -have been kept late on his account." Cosmo, who was contemplating with -immense distaste the prospect of being delivered up to the gendarmes, -emitted a mirthless laugh, and after a while said in a cold tone: "Why -waste your time in pulling to the other side of the harbour? Put me on -board the nearest vessel. I'll soon find my way to the quay from one -_tartane_ to another, and your service would be over at once." - -The fellow on his left assumed an astonishing seriousness: "Most of -those _tartanes_ have a dog on board. We could not expose an illustrious -stranger to get bitten by one of these ugly brutes." - -But the other had no mind for grave mockery. In a harsh and overbearing -tone he ordered the boatman to pull well into the middle of the harbour -away from the moored craft. - -It was like crossing a lake overshadowed by the hills with the -breakwaters prolonging the shore to seaward. The old man raised and -dipped his oars slowly, without a sound, and the long trails of -starlight trembled on the ripples on each side of the boat. When they -had progressed far enough to open the harbour entrance Cosmo detected -between the end of the jetties far away--he was glancing casually -about--a dark speck about the size of a man's head, which ought not to -have been there. The air was perfectly still and the stars thick on the -horizon. It struck him at once that it could be nothing than either the -English man-of-war's boat or the boat of the _dogana_, since no others -were allowed to move at night. His thoughts were, however, so busy with -speculating as to what he had better do that he paid no more attention -to that remarkable speck. He looked absently at the silver-haired -boatman pulling an easy stroke and asked himself: Was it or was it not -time to lose his hat overboard? How could he contrive to make it look -plausible in this absurd calm? Then he reproached himself for reasoning -as if those two low fellows (whose proximity had grown extremely irksome -to him) had wits of preternatural sharpness. If he were to snatch it and -fling it away they would probably conclude that he was trying to make -himself troublesome, or simply mad, or anything in the world rather than -guess that he had in his hat something which he wanted to destroy. He -undid quietly the clasp of his cloak and rested his hands on his knees. -His guardians did not think it necessary now to hold his arms. In fact -they did not seem to pay much attention to him. Cosmo asked himself for -a moment whether he would island up suddenly and jump into the water. Of -course he knew that fully clothed and in his boots they would very soon -get hold of him, but the object would have been attained. However, the -prospect of being towed behind a boat to the custom-house quay by the -collar of his coat and being led into the presence of the gendarmes -looking like a drowned rat was so disagreeable that he rejected that -plan. - -By that time the boat had reached little more than half way across the -harbour. The great body of the shipping was merged with the shore. The -nearest vessels were a polacca brig and xebec lying at anchor. Both were -shadowy, and the last, with her low spars, a mere low smudge on the dim -sheen of the water. From time to time the aged boatman emitted a moan. -The boat seemed hardly to move. Everything afloat was silent and dark. -The crews of the coasters were ashore or asleep; and if there were any -dogs on board any of them they too seemed plunged in the same slumber -that lay over all things of the earth, and by contrast with which the -stars of heaven looked intensely wakeful. In the midst of his -perplexities Cosmo enjoyed the feeling of peace that had come to him -directly his trouble had begun. - -"We will be all night getting across," growled suddenly the man on his -left. ". . . I don't know what Barbone was thinking of to get this -antiquity out of his bed." - -"I told him there was hardly any breath in my old body," declared the -boatman's tranquil voice. - -Apparently in order to speak he had to cease rowing, for he rested on -his oars while he went on in the grave-like silence. "But he raged like -a devil; and rather than let him wake up all the neighbours I came out. -I may just as well die in the boat as in bed." - -Both _sbirri_ exclaimed indignantly against Barbone, but neither offered -to take the sculls. With a painful groan the old man began to pull -again. Cosmo asked: "What's that dark thing between the heads of the -jetties?" One of his captors, turning his head to look, said, "That must -be the galley. I wish she would come this way. We would ask her for a -tow." The other man remarked sarcastically, "No fear, they are all -snoozing in her except one perhaps to keep a lookout. It's an easy life. -. . . _Voga, vecchio, yoga._" - -Cosmo thought suddenly that if by any chance the man-of-war boat -happened to be pulling that way he would hail her without hesitation, -and, surely, the officer in charge would not leave him in the hands of -those villains without at least listening to his tale. Unluckily their -way across the harbour did not take them near the man-of-war. The light -at her mizzen peak seemed to Cosmo very far away; so that if it had not -burned against the dark background of the land it would have seemed more -distant than any star, and not half as brightly vigilant. He took his -eyes from it and let them rest idly on the water ahead. The _sbirro_ on -his right hand emitted an immense yawn. This provided the other to -mutter curses on the tediousness of all this affair. Cosmo had been too -perplexed to feel bored. Just then as if in antagonism to those -offensive manifestations he felt very alert. Moreover, the moment when -something would have to be done was approaching, a tension of all his -senses accumulating in a sort of all-over impatience. While in that -state, staring into the night, he caught sight of the man-of-war's boat. - -But was it?--well, it was something dark on the water, and as there was -no other boat about . . . It was small--well, far off and probably end -on. . . . He had heard no sound of rowing . . . lying on her oars . . . -He could see nothing now . . . well, here goes, on the chance. - -Without stirring a limb he took a long breath and let out the shout of -"Boat ahoy" with all the force of his lungs. The volume of tone -astonished himself. It seemed to fill the whole of the harbour so -effectually that he felt he needn't shout again and he remained as still -as a statue. The effect on his neighbours was that both gave a violent -start, which set the boat rolling slightly, and in their bewilderment -they bent forward to peer into his face with immense eyes. After a time -one of them asked in an awestruck murmur, "What's the matter, signore?" -and seized his cloak. The other, Cosmo heard distinctly whisper to -himself, "That was a war cry," while he also grabbed the cloak. The -clasp being undone, it slipped off Cosmo's shoulders and then they clung -to his arms. It struck Cosmo as remarkable that the old boatman, had not -ceased his feeble rowing for a moment. - -The shout had done Cosmo good. It reestablished his self-respect somehow -and it sent the blood moving through his veins as if indeed it had been -a war cry. He had shaken their nerves. If they had not remained -perfectly motionless holding his arms there would have started a -scrimmage in that boat which would certainly have ended in the water. -But their grip was feeble. They did nothing, but, bending towards each -other in front of Cosmo till their heads almost touched, watched his -lips from which such an extraordinary shout had come. Cosmo stared -stonily ahead as if unconscious of their existence, and again he had -that strange illusion of a dark spot ahead of the boat. He thought, -"That's no illusion. What a fool I was. It must be a mooring buoy." A -couple of minutes elapsed before he thought again, "That old fellow will -be right into it, presently." - -He didn't consider it his business to utter a warning because the bump -he expected happened almost immediately. He had misjudged the distance. -Owing to the slow pace the impact was very slight, slighter even than -Cosmo expected against such a heavy body as a mooring buoy would be. It -was really more like a feeble hollow sound than a shock. Cosmo, who was -prepared for it, was really the one that felt it at once, and the -ancient boatman looked sharply over his shoulder. He uttered no sound -and did not even attempt to rise from the thwart. He simply, as it -seemed to Cosmo, let go the oars. The _sbirri_ only became aware of -something having happened after the hollow bump was repeated, and Cosmo -had become aware that the object on the water was not a buoy but another -boat not much bigger than theirs. Then they both exclaimed and in their -surprise their grip relaxed. One of them cried in astonishment, "An -empty boat." It was indeed a surprising occurrence. With no particular -purpose in his mind Cosmo stood up while one of the _sbirri_ stood up -either to catch hold of the boat or push it away, for the two boats were -alongside each other by that time. A strange voice in the dark said very -loud: "The man in the hat," and as if by enchantment three figures -appeared standing in a row. Cosmo had not even time to feel surprised. -The two boats started knocking about considerably, and he felt himself -seized by the collar and one arm and dragged away violently from between -the two _sbirri_ by the power of irresistible arms which as suddenly let -him go as if he were an inanimate object, and he fell heavily in the -bottom of the second boat almost before his legs were altogether clear -of the other. During this violent translation his hat fell off his head -without any scheming on his part. - -He was not exactly frightened but he was excusably flustered. One is not -kidnapped like this without any preliminaries every day. He was -painfully aware of being in the way of his new captors. He was kicked in -the ribs and his legs were trodden upon. He heard blows being struck -against hard substances which he knew were human skulls because of the -abortive yells ending in groans. There was a determination and ferocity -in this attack combined with the least possible amount of noise. All he -could hear were the heavy blows and the hard breathing of the -assailants. Then came a sort of helpless splash. "Somebody will get -drowned," he thought. - -He made haste to pull himself forward from under the feet of the -combatants. Luckily for his ribs they were bare, which also added to the -quietness of that astonishing development. Once in the bows he sat up, -and by that time everything was over. Three shadowy forms were standing -in! a row in the boat, motionless, like labourers who had accomplished a -notable task. The boat out of which he had been dragged was floating -within a yard or two, apparently empty. The whole affair, which could -not have lasted more than a minute, seemed to Cosmo to have been -absolutely instantaneous. Not a sound came from the shipping along the -quays, not even from the brig and the xebec which were the nearest. A -sense of final stillness such as follows, for instance, the explosion of -a mine and resembles the annihilation of all one's perceptive faculties -took possession of Cosmo for a moment. Presently he heard a very earnest -but low voice cautioning the silent world: "If you dare make a noise I -will come back and kill you." It was perfectly impersonal; it had no -direction, no particular destination. Cosmo, who heard the words -distinctly, could connect no image of a human being with them. He was -roused at last when, dropping his hand on the gunwale, he felt human -fingers under it. He snatched his hand away as if burnt and only then -looked over. The white hair of the old boatman seemed to rest on the -water right against the boat's side. He was holding on silently, even in -this position displaying the meek patience of his venerable age--and -Cosmo contemplated him in silence. A voice, not at all impersonal this -time, said from the stem sheets, "Get out your oars." - -"There is a man in the water here," said Cosmo, wondering at his own -voice being heard in those fantastic conditions. It produced, however, -the desired effect, and almost as soon as he had spoken Cosmo had to -help a bearded sailor, who was a complete stranger to him, to haul the -old man inside the boat. He was no great weight to get over the gunwale, -but they had to handle him as if he had been drowned. He never attempted -to help himself. The other men in the boat took an interest in the -proceedings. - -"Is he dead?" came a subdued inquiry from aft. - -"He is very old and feeble," explained Cosmo in an undertone. Somebody -swore long but softly, ending with the remark: "Here's a complication." - -"That scoundrel Barbone dragged out a dying man," began Cosmo -impulsively. - -"_Va bene, va bene_ . . . Bundle him in and come aft, signore." - -Cosmo, obeying this injunction, found himself sitting in the stem sheets -by the side of a man whose first act was to put his hand lightly upon -his shoulder in a way that conveyed a sort of gentle exultation. The -discovery that the man was Attilio was too startling for comment at the -first moment. The next it seemed the most natural thing in the world. - -"It seems as if nothing could keep us apart," said that extraordinary -man in a low voice. He took his hand off Cosmo's shoulder and directed -the two rowers--who, Cosmo surmised, were the whisperers of the -tower--to pull under the bows of the brig. "We must hide from those -custom-house fellows," he said. "I fancy the galley is coming along." - -No other word was uttered till one of the men got hold of the brig's -cable and the boat came to a rest with her side against the stem of that -vessel, when Cosmo, who now could himself hear the faint noise of -rowing, asked Attilio in a whisper: "Are they after you?" - -"If they are after anything," answered the other coolly, "they are after -a very fine voice. What made you give that shout?" - -"I had to behave like a frightened mouse before those _sbirri_, on -account of those papers you left with me, and I felt that I must assert -myself." Cosmo gave this psychological explanation grimly. He changed -his tone to add that, fancying he had seen the shape of the English -man-of-war's boat, the temptation to hail her had been irresistible. - -"Possibly that's what started them. They know nothing of us. Luck was on -our side. We slipped in unseen." The sound of rowing meantime had grown -loud enough to take away from them all desire for further conversation, -for the noise of heavy oars working in their rowlocks has a purposeful -relentless character on a still night, and the big twelve-oared galley, -pulled with a short quick stroke, seemed to hold an unerring way in its -hollow thundering progress. For those in the boat concealed under the -bows of the brig the strain of having to listen without being able to -see was growing intolerable. Cosmo asked himself anxiously whether he -was going to be captured once more before this night of surprises was -out, but at the last moment the galley swerved and passed under the stem -of the polacca as if bent on taking merely a sweep round the harbour. -Everybody in the boat drew a long breath. But almost immediately -afterwards the sound of rowing stopped short and everyone in the boat -seemed turned again into stone. - -At last Attilio breathed into Cosmo's ear, "_Per Dio!_ They have found -the other boat." - -Cosmo was almost ashamed at the swift eagerness of his fearfully -whispered inquiry: - -"Are the men in her dead?" - -"All I know is that if either of them is able to talk we are lost," -Attilio whispered back. - -"These _sbirri_ were going to deliver me to the gendarmes," Cosmo began -under his breath, when all at once the noise of the oars burst again on -their ears abruptly; but soon all apprehension was at an end, because it -became clear that the sound was receding towards the east side of the -harbour. In fact the custom-house people who had started to row round -because of a vague impression that there had been some shouting in the -harbour had to their immense surprise come upon a boat which at first -seemed empty but which, they soon discovered, contained two human forms -huddled up on the bottom boards, apparently dead, but at any rate -insensible if they were still breathing. Attilio's surmise that as the -quickest way of dealing with this mystery the custom-house officer had -decided to tow the boat at once to the police station on the east side -was perfectly right; and also his conviction that now or never was his -chance to slip out of that harbour where he and his companions felt -themselves in a trap the door of which might snap to at any time. At the -best it was a desperate situation, he felt. Cosmo felt it, too, if in a -more detached way--like a rather unwilling spectator. Yet his anxiety -for the safety of his companions was as great as though he had known -them all his life. Though he had in a way lost sight of his personal -connection he could not help forming his own view, which he poured into -Attilio's ear while the two rowers put all their strength into their -work. - -Tensely rigid at the tiller, Attilio had listened, keeping his eyes -fixed on the gap of dark gleaming water between the black heads of the -two breakwaters. - -"The signore is right," he assented. "We could not hope to escape from -that galley once she caught sight of us. Our only chance is to slip out -of the port before she gets back to her station outside the jetties. -This affair will be a great puzzle to them. They will lose some time -talking it over with the gendarmes. Unless one or another of those -_sbirri_ comes to himself." - -"Yes. Those _sbirri_ . . ." murmured Cosmo. - -"What would you have? We did our best with the boat-stretchers, I can -assure you." - -Cosmo had no doubt of that. The sound of crashing blows rained on those -wretches' heads had been sickening, but the memory comforted him now. So -did the return of the profound stillness after the noise of the galley's -oars had died out in the distance. Cosmo took heart till it came upon -him suddenly that there never had been a starry sky that gave so much -light, no night so amazingly clear, no harbour of such an enormous -extent. He felt he must not lose a minute. He jumped up and began to -tear off his coat madly. Attilio exclaimed in dismay, "Stay! Don't!" It -looked as though his Englishman had made up his mind to swim for it. But -Cosmo with a muttered, "I must lend a hand," stepped lightly forward -past the rowers, and began to feel under thwarts for a spare oar. Before -he found it his hand came in contact with a naked foot. This recalled to -him the existence of the ancient boatman. The poor old fellow who had -taken no part in the fray had fallen overboard from mere weakness and -had had a long soaking in chilly water. He lay curled up in the bows, -shivering violently like a dog. For the moment Cosmo was simply vexed at -this additional dead weight in the boat. He could think of nothing but -of the custom-house galley. He imagined her long, slim, cleaving the -glassy water, as if endowed with life, while the clumsy tub in which he -sat felt to him a dead thing which had to be tugged along by main force -every inch of the way. He set his teeth hard and pulled doggedly as if -rowing in a losing race, without turning his head once. Suddenly he -became aware of the end of the old Mole gliding past the boat, and that -Attilio instead of holding on this way had taken a sweep and was -following the outer side of the breakwater towards the shore. Presently, -at his word, the oars were taken in, and the boat floated arrested in -shallow water amongst the boulders strewn along the base of the Mole. -The men panted after their exertions. Not a breath of wind stirred the -chilly air. Cosmo returned aft and sat down by Attilio after putting on -his coat. - -It seemed as though Attilio, while steering with one hand, had managed -with the other to go through the pockets of Cosmo's coat, for his first -words murmured in an anxious tone were "Signore, where are those -papers?" - -Cosmo had forgotten all about them. The shock was severe. "The papers," -he exclaimed faintly. "In my hat." - -"Yes, I put them there. You had it on your head in the boat. I -recognized you by it." - -"Of course I had it on. Where is it?" - -"God knows," said Attilio bitterly. "I was asking you for the papers." - -"I only discovered that the packet was in my hat after I put it on," -protested Cosmo. "Four were standing over me already." - -"Is it possible?" exclaimed Attilio, very low. - -"Afterwards I was watched all the time." - -While they were exchanging those words in the extremity of their -consternation, the man nearest to them went down suddenly on his knees -and began to grope under the thwarts industriously. Having heard the -word "hat" he had remembered that while battling with the _sbirri_ he -had trodden on some round object which had given way under his foot. He -assured the signore that it was a thing that could not be helped while -he tendered to him apologetically the rim with one hand and the crown -with the other. It was crushed flat like an empty bag, but it was seized -with avidity and presently Cosmo's feelings were relieved by the -discovery that it still contained the parcel of papers. Attilio took -possession of it with a low nervous laugh. It was an emotional sound -which, coming from that man, gave Cosmo food for wonder during the few -moments the silence lasted before Attilio announced in a whisper, "Here -she is." - -Cosmo, looking seaward, saw on the black and gleaming water, polished -like a mirror for the stars, an opaque hummock resembling the head of a -rock; and he thought that the race had been won by a very narrow margin. -The galley in fact had reached the heads of the jetties a very few -minutes only after the boat. On getting back to his station the officer -in the galley pulled about fifty yards clear of the end of the old Mole -and ordered his men to lay oars in. He had left the solution of the -mystery to the police. It was not his concern; and as he knew nothing of -the existence of an outside boat, it never occurred to him to -investigate along the coast. Attilio's boat lurking close inshore was -invisible from seaward. The distance between the two was great enough to -cause the considerable clatter which is made when several oars are laid -in together at the word of command to reach Cosmo only as a very faint, -almost mysterious, sound. It was the last he was to hear for a very long -time. He surrendered to the soft and invincible stillness of air and sea -and stars enveloping the active desires and the secret fears of men who -have the sombre earth for their stage. At every momentary pause in his -long and fantastic adventure it returned with its splendid charm and -glorious serenity, resembling the power of a great and unfathomable love -whose tenderness like a sacred spell lays to rest all the vividities and -all the violences of passionate desire. - -Dreamily Cosmo had lost control of the trend of his thoughts, as one -does on the verge of sleep. He regained it with a slight start and -looked up at the round tower looming up, bulky, at the water's edge. He -was back again, having completed the cycle of his adventures and not -knowing what would happen next. Everybody was silent. The two men at the -thwarts had folded their arms and had let their chins sink on their -breasts; while Attilio, sitting in the stern sheets, held his head up in -an immobility to which his open eyes lent an air of extreme vigilance. -The waste of waters seemed to extend from the shores of Italy to the -very confines of the universe, with nothing on it but the black spot of -the galley which moved no more than the head of a rock. "We can't stay -here till daylight," thought Cosmo. - -That same thought was in Attilio's mind. The race between his boat and -the galley had been very close. It was very probable that had it not -been for Cosmo volunteering to pull the third oar it would have resulted -in a dead heat, which of course would have meant capture. As it was, -Attilio had just escaped being seen by pulling short round the jetty -instead of holding on into the open sea. It was a risky thing to do, but -then, since he had jeopardized the success of his escape through his -desire to get hold of Cosmo again, there was nothing before him but a -choice of risks. - -Attilio was a native of a tiny white townlet on the eastern shore of the -Gulf of Genoa. His people were all small cultivators and fishermen. -Their name was Pieschi, from whose blood came the well-known conspirator -against the power of the Dorias and in the days of the Republic. Of this -fact Attilio had heard only lately (Cantelucci had told him) with a -certain satisfaction. In his early youth, spent on the coast of the -South American continent, he had heard much talk of a subversive kind -and had become familiar with the idea of revolt looked upon as an -assertion of manly dignity and the spiritual aim of life. He had come -back to his country about six months before and, beholding the aged -faces of some of his people in the unchanged surroundings, it seemed to -him that it was his own life that had been very long, though he was only -about thirty. Being a relation of Cantelucci he found himself very soon -in touch with the humbler members of secret societies, survivals of the -revolutionary epoch, stirred up by the downfall of the Empire and -inspired by grandiose ideas, by the hatred of the Austrian invaders -bringing back with them the old tyrannical superstitions of religion and -the oppression of privileged classes. Like the polite innkeeper he -believed in the absolute equality of all men. He respected all religions -but despised the priests who preached submission and perceived nothing -extravagant in the formation of an Italian empire (of which he had the -first hint from the irritable old cobbler, the uncle of Cecchina) since -there was a great man--a great Emperor--to put at its head, very close -at hand. The great thing was to keep him safe from the attempts of all -these kings and princes now engaged in plotting against his life in -Vienna--till the hour of action came. No small task, for the world -outside the ranks of the people was full of his enemies. - -Attilio, still and silent by Cosmo's side, was not reproaching himself -for having gone in the evening to say good-bye to Cecchina. The girl -herself had been surprised to see him, for they had said good-bye -already in the afternoon. But this love affair was not quite two months -old and he could not have been satisfied with a hurried wordless -good-bye, snatched behind a half-closed door, with several people -drinking at the long table in Cantelucci's kitchen on one side and a -crabbed old woman rummaging noisily in a storeroom at the end of the -dark passage. Cecchina had, of course, reproached him for coming, but -not very much. Neither of them dreamed of there being any danger in it. -Then, straight out of her arms, as it were, he had stepped into that -ambush! His presence of mind and his agility proved too much for the -party of the stupid Barbone. It was only after he had given them the -slip in the maze of small garden plots at the back of the houses that he -had time, while lying behind a low wall, to think over this unexpected -trouble. He knew that the fellows who were after him belonged to the -police, because they had called on the soldiers for assistance; but he -concluded that he owed this surprise to some jealous admirer of -Cecchina. It was easy enough for any base scoundrel to set the police -after a man in these troubled times. It may even have been one of -Cantelucci's affiliated friends. His suspicions rested on the small -employees who took their meals at the inn, and especially on a lanky -scribe with a pointed nose like a rat who had the habit of going in and -out through the courier's room, only, Attilio believed, in order to make -eyes at Cecchina. That the ambush had been laid on the evening fixed for -his departure was a mere coincidence. - -The real danger of the position was in having the papers on him, but, -anxious that his friends at the tower should not give him up, he came -out of his hiding-place too soon. The soldiers had gone away, but the -_sbirri_ were still half-heartedly poking about in dark corners and -caught sight of him. Another rush saved him for the moment. The position -he felt was growing desperate. He dared not throw away the papers. The -discovery of Cosmo sitting amongst the stones was an event so -extraordinary in itself that it revolutionized his rational view of life -as a whole in the way a miracle might have done. He felt suddenly an -awed and confiding love for that marvellous person fate had thrown in -his way. The pursuit was close. There was no time to explain. There was -no need. - -But directly he found himself safe in the boat Attilio began to regret -having parted with the papers. It was not much use proceeding on his -mission without these documents entrusted to him by Cantelucci, acting -on behalf of superior powers. - -He asked himself what could have happened to Cosmo? Did the fellows -arrest him on suspicion? That was not very likely, and at worst it would -not mean more than a short detention. They would not dare to search him, -surely. But even if they found the packet Cosmo would declare it his own -property and object to its being opened. He had a complete confidence in -Cosmo's loyalty and, what was more, in that young Englishman's power to -have his own way. He had the manner for that and the face for that. The -face and bearing of a man with whom it was lucky to be associated in -anything. - -The galley being just then at the other end of her beat, Attilio saw his -way clear to slip into the harbour. The state of perfect quietness over -the whole extent of the harbour encouraged his native audacity. He began -by pulling to the east side where the gendarmerie office was near the -quay. Everything was quiet there. He made his men lay their oars amongst -the shadows of the anchored shipping and waited. Sleep, breathless -sleep, reigned on shore and afloat. Attilio began to think that Cosmo -could not have been discovered. If so, then he must be nearing -Cantelucci's inn by this time. He resolved then to board one of the -empty coasters moored to the quay, wait for the morning there, and then -go himself to the inn, where he could remain concealed till another -departure could be arranged. He told his men to pull gently to the -darkest part of the quay. And then he heard Cosmo's mighty shout. He was -nearly as confounded by it as the _sbirri_ in the boat. That voice -bursting out on the profound stillness seemed loud enough to wake up -every sleeper in the town, to bring the stones rolling down the -hillsides. And almost at once he thought, "What luck!" The luck of the -Englishman's amazing impudence; for what other man would have thought of -doing that thing? He told his rowers to lay their oars in quietly and -get hold of the boat-stretchers. The extremely, feeble pulling of the -old boatman gave the time for these preparations. He whispered his -instructions: "We've got to get a foreign signore out of that boat. The -others in her will be _sbirri._ Hit them hard." Just before the boats -came into contact he recognized Cosmo's form standing up. It was then -that he pronounced the words, "the man in the hat," which were heard by -Cosmo. Attilio ascribed it all to luck that attended those who had -anything to do with that Englishman. Even the very escape unseen from -the harbour he ascribed, not to Cosmo's extra oar, but to Cosmo's -peculiar personality. - -Without departing from his immobility he broke silence by a "signore," -pronounced in a distinct but restrained voice. Cosmo was glad to learn -the story before the moment came for them to part. But the theory of -luck which Attilio tacked on to the facts did not seem to him -convincing. He remarked that if Attilio had not come for him at all he -would have been far on the way in his mysterious affairs, whereas now he -was only in another trap. - -For all answer the other murmured, "_Si_, but I wonder if it would have -been the same. Signore, isn't it strange that we should have been drawn -together from the first moment you put foot in Genoa?" - -"It is," said Cosmo, with an emphasis that encouraged the other to -continue, but with a less assured voice. - -"Some people of old believed that stars have something to do with -meetings and partings by their disposition and that some if not all men -have each a star allotted to them." - -"Perhaps," said Cosmo in the same subdued voice. "But I believe there is -a man greater than you or I who believes he has a star of his own." - -"Napoleon, perhaps." - -"So I have heard," said Cosmo, and thought, "Here he is, whenever two -men meet he is a third, one can't get rid of him." - -"I wonder where it is," said Attilio, as if to himself, looking up at -the sky. "Or yours, or mine," he added in a still lower tone. "They must -be pretty close together." - -Cosmo humoured the superstitious strain absently, for he felt a secret -sympathy for that man. "Yes, it looks as if yours and mine had been -fated to draw together." - -"No, I mean all three together." - -"Do you? Then you must know more than I do. Though indeed as a matter of -fact he is not very far from us where we sit. But don't you think, my -friend, that there are men and women, too, whose stars mark them for -loneliness no man can approach?" - -"You mean because they are great." - -"Because they are incomparable," said Cosmo after a short pause, in -which Attilio seemed to ponder. - -"I like that what you said," Attilio was heard at last. "Their stars may -be lonely. Look how still they are. But men are more like ships that -come suddenly upon each other without a warning. And yet they, too, are -guided by the stars. I can't get over the wonder of our meeting -to-night." - -"If you hadn't been so long in saying good-bye we wouldn't have met," -said Cosmo, looking at the two men dozing on the thwarts, the whisperers -of the tower. They were not at all like what he had imagined them to be. - -Attilio gazed at his Englishman for a time closely. He seemed to see a -smile on Cosmo's lips. Wonder at his omniscience prevented him from -making a reply. He preferred not to ask, and yet he was incapable of -forming a guess, for there are certain kinds of obviousness that escape -speculation. - -"You may be right," he said. "It's the first time in my life that I -found it hard to say good-bye. I begin to believe," he went on -murmuring, "that there are people it would be better for one not to -know. There are women . . ." - -"Yes," said Cosmo, very low and as if unconscious of what he was saying. -"I have seen your faces very close together." - -The other made a slight movement away from Cosmo and then bent towards -him. "You have seen," he said slowly and stopped short. He was thinking -of something that had happened only two hours before. "Oh well," he said -with composure, "you know everything, you see everything that happens. -Do you know what will happen to us two?" - -"It's very likely that when we part we will never see each other again," -Cosmo said, resting his elbows on his knees and taking his head between -his hands. He did not look like a man preparing to go ashore. - -There were no material difficulties absolutely to prevent him from -landing. The foot of the tower with the narrow strip of ground which a -boat could approach was not sixty yards off, and all this was in the -shadow of its own reflection, the high side of the breakwater, the bulk -of the tower, making the glassy water dark in that corner of the shore. -And besides, the water in which the boat floated was so shallow that -Cosmo could have got to land by wading from where the boat lay without -wetting himself much above the knees, should Attilio refuse to come out -from under the shelter of the rock. But probably Attilio would not have -objected. The difficulty was not there. - -Attilio must have been thinking on the same subject, as became evident -when he asked Cosmo whether those _sbirri_ knew where he lived. After -some reflection Cosmo said that he was quite certain they knew nothing -about it. The _sbirri_ had put no questions to him. They had not, he -said, displayed any particular curiosity about what he was. "But why do -you ask?" - -"Don't you know?" said Attilio, with only half-affected surprise. "There -might have been a dozen of them waiting for you in the neighbourhood on -the chance of your returning, and you have no other place to go to." - -"No, I haven't," said Cosmo in a tone as though he regretted that -circumstance. He thought, however, that there might have been some of -them out between the port and the town, and he knew only one way and -that not very well, he added. - -As a matter of fact that danger was altogether imaginary, because -Barbone, who certainly was in the pay of the police for work of that -sort, was not imaginative enough to do things without orders, and after -sending his prisoner off left the rest of the gendarmes and went home to -bed, while his young acolyte went about his own affairs. The other two -_sbirri_ were being medically attended to, one of them especially being -very nearly half killed by an unlucky blow on the temple. All the other -_sbirro_ could say in a feeble voice was that there were four in the -boat, that they were attacked by an inexplicable murderous gang, and -that he imagined that the other two, the prisoner and the boatman, were -now dead and very likely at the bottom of the harbour. The brigadier of -the gendarmerie could not get any more out of him, and, knowing -absolutely nothing of the affair, thought it would be time to make his -report to the superior authorities in the morning. All he did was to go -round to the places where the boats were chained, which were under his -particular charge, and count the boats. Not one was wanting. His -responsibility was not engaged. - -Thus there was nothing between Cosmo and Cantelucci's inn except his own -distaste. There was a strange tameness in that proceeding, a lack of -finality, something almost degrading. He imagined himself slinking like -a criminal at the back of the beastly guardhouse, starting at shadows, -creeping under the colonnade, getting lost in those dreadful deep lanes -between palaces, with the constant dread of having suddenly the paws of -those vile fellows laid on him and being dragged to some police post -with an absurd tale on his lips and without a hat on his head and what -for? Simply to get back to that abominable bedroom. However, he would -have to go through it. - -"Pity you don't know the town," Attilio's cautious voice was heard -again, "or else I could tell you of a place where you could spend the -remainder of the night and send word to your servant to-morrow. But you -could not find it by yourself. And that's a pity. I assure Your -Excellency that she is a real good woman. To have a secret place is not -such a bad thing. One never knows what one may need, and she is a -creature to be trusted. She has an Italian heart and she is a -_giardiniera_ too. What more could I tell you?" - -Cosmo thought to himself vaguely that the girl he had seen in -Cantelucci's kitchen did not look like a woman gardener, though of -course if Attilio had a love affair it would be naturally amongst people -of that sort. But it occurred to him that perhaps it was some other -woman Attilio was talking about. He made no movement. Attilio's murmurs -took on a tone of resignation. "Your luck, signore, will depart with -you, and perhaps ours will follow after." Cosmo protested against that -unreasonable assumption, which was of course an absurdity but -nevertheless touched him in one of those sensitive spots which are like -a _défaut d'armure_ in the battle-harness of various conceits which one -wears against one's kind. He considered luck less in a sudden -overwhelming conviction of it, in the manner of a man who had crossed -the path of a radiating influence, or who had awakened a sleeping and -destructive power which would now pursue him to the end of his life. He -was young, farouche, mistrustful and austere, not like a stoic, but in -the more human way like a man who has been born fastidious. In a sense -altogether unworldly. Attilio emitted an audible sigh. - -"You won't call it your luck," he pursued. "Well, let us leave it -without a name. It is something in you. Your carelessness in following -your fantasy, signore, as when you forced your presence on me only two -days ago," he insisted, as if carelessness and fantasy were the -compelling instruments of success. His voice was at its lowest as he -added: "Your genius makes you true to your will." - -No human being could have been insensible to such words uttered -unexpectedly in a tone of secret earnestness. But Cosmo's inward -response was a feeling of profound despondency. He was crushed by their -appalling unfitness. For the last twenty-four hours he had been asking -himself whether he had a will of his own, and it had seemed to him that -he had lost the notion of the real nature of courage. At that very -moment while listening to the mysteriously low pitch of Attilio's voice -the thought flashed through his mind that there was something within him -that made of him a predestined victim of remorse. - -"You can't possibly know anything about me, Attilio," he said, "and -whatever you like to imagine about me, you will have to put me on shore -presently. I can't stay here till the morning, and neither can you," he -added. "What are you thinking of doing? What can you do?" - -"Is it possible that it is of any interest to the signore? Only the -other evening I could not induce you to leave me to myself, and now you -are impatient to leave me to my fate. What can I do? I can always take a -desperate chance," he paused, and added through his clenched teeth, "and -when I think what little I need to make it almost safe . . ." The -piously uttered exclamation, "_Ah, Dio!_" was accompanied by a shake of -a clenched fist apparently addressed to the universe, but made as it -were discreetly, in keeping with the low and forcible tones. - -"And what is that?" asked Cosmo, raising his head. - -"Two pairs of stout arms, nothing more. With four oars and this boat and -using a little judgment in getting away I would defy that fellow there." -He jerked his head towards the galley which in this tideless sea had not -shifted her position a yard. "Yes," he went on, "I could even hope to -remain unseen on account of a quick dash." - -And he explained to Cosmo further that in an hour or so a little nearer -the break of day, when men get heavy and sleepy, the watchfulness of -those custom-house people would be relaxed and give him a better chance. -But if he was seen then he could still hope to out-row them, though he -would have preferred it the other way because with a boat making for the -open sea they would very soon guess that there must be some vessel -waiting for her, and by telling the tale on shore, that government xebec -lying in the harbour would soon be out in chase. She was fast, and in -twenty-four hours she would soon manage to overhaul all the craft she -would sight between this and the place he was going to. - -"And where is that?" asked Cosmo, letting his head rest on his hands -again. - -"In the direction of Livorno," said the other, and checked himself. "But -perhaps I had better not tell you, for should you happen to be -interrogated by all those magistrates, or perhaps by the Austrians, you -would of course want to speak the truth as becomes a gentleman--a -_nobilissimo signore_--unless you manage to forget what I have already -told you or perchance elect to come with us." - -"Come with you," repeated Cosmo, before something peculiar in the tone -made him sit up and face Attilio. "I believe you are capable of carrying -me off." - -"_Dio ne voglio_," was Attilio's answer, "God forbid. The noise you -would make would bring no end of trouble. But for that perhaps it would -have been better for me," he added reflectively. "Whereas I have made up -my mind that there should be nothing but good from our association. Yet, -signore, you very nearly went away with us without any question at all, -for our head pointed to seaward and you could have had no idea that I -was coming in here. Confess, signore, you didn't think of return then. I -had only to hold the tiller straight another five minutes and I would -have had you in my power." - -"You were afraid of the _dogana_ galley, my friend," said Cosmo as if -arguing a point. - -"Signore, this minute," said Attilio with the utmost seriousness. "Wake -up there," he said in a raised undertone to his two men. "Take an oar, -Pietro, and pull the boat to the foot of the tower." - -"There is also that old boatman," said Cosmo. - -"Hold," said Attilio. "Him I will not land. They will be at his place in -the morning, and then he tells his tale . . . unless he is dead. See -forward there." - -A very subdued murmur arose in the bows and Attilio muttered, "Pietro -would not talk to a dead man." - -"He is extremely feeble," said Cosmo. - -It appeared on Attilio's enquiry that this encumbrance as he called him -was just strong enough to be helped over the thwarts. Presently, -sustained under the elbows, he joined Cosmo in the stem sheets, where -they made him sit between them. He let his big hands lie in his lap. -From time to time he shivered patiently. - -"That wretch Barbone knows no pity," observed Cosmo. - -"I suppose he was the nearest he could get. What tyranny! The helpless -are at the mercy of those fellows. He saved himself the trouble of going -three doors farther." - -They both looked at the ancient frame that age had not shrivelled. - -"A fine man once," said Attilio in a low voice. "Can you hear me, -_vecchio?_" - -"_Si_, and see you too, but I don't know your voice," was the answer in -a voice stronger than either of them expected, but betraying no sort of -interest. - -"They will certainly throw him into prison." And to Cosmo's indignant -exclamation Attilio pointed out that the old man would be the only -person they would be able to get hold of and he would have to pay for -all the rest. - -Cosmo expressed the opinion that he would not stay there long. - -"Better for him to die under the open sky than in prison," murmured -Attilio in a gloomy voice. "Listen, old man, could you keep the boat -straight at a star if I were to point you one?" - -"I was at home in a boat before I could speak plainly," was the answer, -while the boatman raised his arm and let it rest on the tiller as if to -prove that he had strength enough for that at least. - -"I have my boat's crew, signore. Let him do something for all Italy if -it is with his last breath, that old Genoese. And now if you were only -to take that bow oar you have been using so well only a few moments ago, -I will pull stroke and we will make this boat fly." - -Cosmo felt the subdued vibration of this appeal without having paid any -attention to the words. They required no answer. Attilio pressed him as -though he had been arguing against objections. Surely he was no friend -of tyranny or of Austrian oppressors and he wouldn't refuse to serve a -man whom some hidden power had thrown in his way. He, Attilio, had not -sought him. He would have been content never to have seen him. He surely -had nothing that could call him back on shore this very night, since he -had not been more than three days in Genoa. No time for him to have -affairs. The words poured out of his lips into Cosmo's ear while the -white-headed boatman sat still above the torrent of whispered speech, -appearing to listen like a venerable judge. What could stand in the way -of him lending his luck and the strength of his arm? Surely it couldn't -be love, since he was travelling alone. - -"Enough," said Cosmo, as if the word had been extorted from him by pain, -but Attilio felt that his cause had been gained, though he hastened to -apologize for the impropriety of the argument, and assure the milord -Inglese that nothing would be easier than to put him ashore in the -course of the next day. - -"What do you think. Excellency, there is my own native village not very -far from Genoa on the Riviera di Ponente, and you will be amongst -friends to carry out such orders as you may give, or pass you from one -to another back to Genoa as fast as mules can climb or horses trot. And -it would be the same from any point in Italy. They would get you into -Genoa in disguise, or without disguise, and into the very home of -Cantelucci, so that you could appear there without a soul knowing how -you entered or how you came back." - -Cosmo, feeling a sudden relief, wondered that he should have found it in -the mere resolution to go off secretly with only the clothes he stood up -in, absolutely without money or anything of value on him, not even a -watch, and without a hat, at the mere bidding of a man bound on some -secret work, God knows where and for what object, and who had -volunteered to him no statement except that he had cousins in every spot -in Italy and a love affair with an _ortolana._ The enormous absurdity of -it made him impatient to be doing, and upon his expressed desire to make -a start Attilio, with the words, "You command here, signore," told his -men it was time to be moving. - -In less than half an hour the boat, with all her crew crouching at the -bottom and using the oars for poling in the shallow water along the -coast with infinite precaution to avoid knocks and bangs as though the -boat, the oars, and everything in her were made of glass, had been moved -far enough from the tower to have her nose put to the open sea. After -the first few strokes Cosmo felt himself draw back again to the receding -shore. But it was too late. He seemed to feel profoundly that he was -not--perhaps no man was--a free agent. He felt a sort of fear, a -faltering of all his limbs, as he swung back to his oar. Then his eyes -caught the galley, indeed everybody's eyes in the boat were turned that -way except the eyes of the ancient steersman, the white-headed figure in -an unexpectedly erect attitude who, with hardly any breath left in his -body and a mere helpless victim of other men's will, had a strange -appearance of the man in command. - -In less than ten minutes the galley became invisible, and even the long -shadows of the jetties had sunk to the level of the sea. There was a -moment when one of the men observed without excitement, "She's after -us," but this remark provoked no answer and turned out to be mistaken, -and for an hour longer Attilio, pulling stroke, watched the faint -phosphorescent wake, the evanescent fire under the black smoothness of -the sea, elusive like the tail of a comet amongst the dim reflections of -the stars. Its straightness was the only proof of the silent helmsman -with his arm resting along the tiller being still alive. Then he began -to look about him, and presently, laying in his oar, relieved the old -man at the tiller. He had to take his arm off it. The other never said a -word. - -The boat moved slowly now. The problem was to discover the awaiting -felucca without lights and with her sails lowered. Several times Attilio -stood up to have a look without being able to make out anything. He was -growing uneasy. He spoke to Cosmo. - -"I hope we haven't passed her by. If we once get her between us and the -land it will be hopeless to catch sight of her till the day breaks. -Better rest on your oars." - -He remained standing himself. His eyes roamed to and fro patiently and -suddenly he emitted a short laugh. - -"Why, there she is." - -He steered, still standing, while the others pulled gently. The old man, -who had not emitted a sound, had slipped off the seat on to the stem -sheets. Attilio said quietly, "Take your oars in," and suddenly Cosmo -felt the boat bump against the low side of the felucca, which he had -never tinned his head to see. No had or even murmur came from her. She -had no lights. Attilio's voice said, "You first, signore," and Cosmo, -looking up, saw three motionless heads above the bulwarks. No word was -spoken to him. He was not even looked at by those silent and shadowy -men. The first sound he heard were the words, "Take care," pronounced by -Attilio in connection with getting the old boatman on board. Cosmo, -standing aside, saw a group carry him over to the other side of the -deck. While the sails were being hoisted he sat on the hatch and came to -the very verge of believing himself invisible till suddenly Attilio -stood by his side. - -"Like this we will catch the very first breath of day-break, and may a -breeze follow it to take us out of sight of that town defiled by the -Austrians and soon to be the prey of the nobles and the priests." He -paused. "So at least Cantelucci says. There are bed places below, if you -want to take some rest, signore." - -"I am not sleepy," said Cosmo. If no longer invisible, he could still -feel disembodied, as it were. He was neither sleepy nor tired, nor -hungry, nor even curious, as if altogether freed from the weaknesses of -the body, and not indifferent but without apprehensions or speculations -of any sort to disturb his composure as if of a fully informed wisdom. -He did not seem to himself to weigh more than a feather. He was -suffering the reaction of the upheaval of all his feelings and the -endless contest of his thoughts and that sort of mental agony which had -taken possession of him while he was descending the great staircase of -the Palazzo under the eye of the Count of Montevesso. It was as though -one of those fevers in which the victim watches his own delirium had -left him irresponsible, like a sick man in his bed. Attilio went on: - -"Cantelucci's an experienced conspirator. He thinks that the force of -the people is such that it would be like an uprising of the ground -itself. May be, but where is the man that would know how to use it?" - -Cosmo let it go by like a problem that could await solution or as a -matter of mere vain words. The night air did not stir, and Attilio -changed his tone. - -"They had their lines out ever since the calm began. We will have fish -to eat in the morning. You will have to be one of ourselves for a time -and observe the customs of the common people." - -"Tell me, Attilio," Cosmo questioned, not widely but in a quiet, almost -confidential tone, and laying his hand for the first time on the -shoulder of that man only a little older than himself. "Tell me, what am -I doing here?" - -Attilio, the wanderer of the seas along the southern shores of the earth -and the pupil of the hermit of the plains that lie under the -constellation of the southern sky, smiled in the dark, a faint friendly -gleam of white teeth in an over-shadowed face. But all the answer he -made was: - -"Who would dare say now that our stars have not come together? Come to -sit at the stem, signore. I can find a rug to throw over a coil of rope -for a seat. I am now the padrone of that felucca, but of course barring -her appointed work you are entirely the master of her." - -These words were said with a marked accent of politeness such as one -uses for a courtesy formula. But he stopped for a moment on his way aft -to point his finger on the deck. - -"We have thrown a bit of canvas over him. Yes, that is the old man whose -last bit of work was to steer a boat, and strange to think perhaps it -had been done for Italy." - -"Where is his star now?" said Cosmo, after looking down in silence for a -time. - -"Signore, it should be out," said Attilio with studied intonation. "But -who will miss it out of the sky?" - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SUSPENSE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Suspense</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>A Napoleonic Novel</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Joseph Conrad</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 27, 2021 [eBook #66156]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues at Free Literature (Images generously made available by Hathi Trust Digital Library.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SUSPENSE ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/suspense_cover.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="r5" /> - - - -<h1>SUSPENSE</h1> - -<h2>A NAPOLEONIC NOVEL</h2> - - - - -<h4>BY</h4> - -<h3>JOSEPH CONRAD</h3> - - - - -<h4>GARDEN CITY NEW YORK</h4> - -<h4>DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY</h4> - -<h5>1925</h5> - - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<h4>CONTENTS</h4> -<p class="nind"><a href="#PART_I">PART I</a><br /> -<a href="#PART_II">PART II</a><br /> -<a href="#PART_III">PART III</a><br /> -<a href="#PART_IV">PART IV</a></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - - -<h4><a id="PART_I"></a>PART I</h4> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>SUSPENSE</h4> - - -<h4>I</h4> - -<p> -A deep red glow flushed the fronts of marble palaces piled up on the -slope of an arid mountain whose barren ridge traced high on the -darkening sky a ghostly and glimmering outline. The winter sun was -setting over the Gulf of Genoa. Behind the massive shore the sky to the -east was like darkening glass. The open water too had a glassy look with -a purple sheen in which the evening light lingered as if clinging to the -water. The sails of, a few becalmed feluccas looked rosy and cheerful, -motionless in the gathering gloom. Their heads were all pointing towards -the superb city. Within the long jetty with the squat round tower at the -end, the water of the harbour had turned black. A bigger vessel with -square sails, issuing from it and arrested by the sudden descent of the -calm, faced the red disc of the sun. Her ensign hung down and its -colours were not to be made out; but a lank man in a shabby sailor's -jacket and wearing a strange cap with a tassel, who lounged with both -his arms thrown over the black breech of an enormous piece of ordnance -that with three of its monstrous fellows squatted on the platform of the -tower, seemed to have no doubt of her nationality; for to the question -of a young civilian in a long coat and Hessian boots and with an -ingenuous young countenance above the folds of a white neckcloth he -answered curtly, taking a short pipe out of his mouth but not turning -his head. -</p> - -<p> -"She's Elban." -</p> - -<p> -He replaced his pipe and preserved an unsociable air. The elegant young -man with the pleasant countenance, (who was Cosmo, the son of Sir -Charles Latham of Latham Hall, Yorkshire), repeated under his breath, -"Elban," and remained wrapped up in still contemplation of the becalmed -ship with her undistinguishable flag. -</p> - -<p> -It was not till the sun had sunk beneath the waters of the Mediterranean -and the undistinguishable flag had been hauled down on board the -motionless ship that he stirred and turned his eyes towards the harbour. -The nearest prominent object in it was the imposing shape of an English -line-of-battle ship moored on the west side not far from the quay. Her -tall spars overtopped the roofs of the houses and the English ensign at -her flagstaff had been just hauled down and replaced by a lantern that -looked strange in the clear twilight. The forms of shipping crowded -towards the head of the harbour were merging into one another. Cosmo let -his eyes wander over the circular platform of the tower. The man leaning -over the gun went on smoking with indifference. -</p> - -<p> -"Are you the guardian of this tower?" asked the young man. -</p> - -<p> -The other gave him a sidelong glance and made answer without changing -his attitude and more as if speaking to himself: -</p> - -<p> -"This is now an unguarded spot. The wars are over." -</p> - -<p> -"Do they close the door at the bottom of this tower at night?" enquired -Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"That is a matter worth consideration especially for those like you, for -instance, who have a soft bed to go to for the night." -</p> - -<p> -The young than put his head on one side and looked at his interlocutor -with a faint smile. -</p> - -<p> -"You don't seem to care," he said. "So I conclude I need not. As long as -you are content to stay here I am safe enough. I followed you up the -stairs, you know." The man with the pipe stood up abruptly. "You -followed me here? Why did you do that, in the name of all the saints?" -</p> - -<p> -The young man laughed as if at a good joke. "Because you were walking in -front of me. There was nobody else in view near the Mole. Suddenly you -disappeared. Then I saw that the door at the bottom of the tower was -open and I walked up the stairs on to this platform. And I would have -been very surprised if I hadn't found you here." -</p> - -<p> -The man in the strange cap ornamented with a tassel had taken his pipe -out of his mouth to listen. "That was all?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, that was all." -</p> - -<p> -"Nobody but an Englishman would behave like that," commented the other -to himself, a slight appearance of apprehension passing over his -features. "You are an eccentric people." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't see anything eccentric in what I've done. I simply wanted to -walk out of the town. The Mole was as good as any other part. It is very -pleasant here." -</p> - -<p> -A slight breeze touched the two men's faces, while they stood silent, -looking at each other. "I am but an idle traveller," said Cosmo easily. -"I arrived this morning by land. I am glad I had the idea to come out -here to behold your town glowing in the sunset and to get a sight of a -vessel belonging to Elba. There can't be very many of them. But you, my -friend . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"I have as much right to idle away my time here as any English -traveller," interrupted the man hastily. -</p> - -<p> -"It is very pleasant here," repeated the young traveller, staring into -the dusk which had invaded the platform of the tower. -</p> - -<p> -"Pleasant?" repeated the other. "Yes, perhaps. The last time I was on -this platform I was only ten years old. A solid round shot was spinning -and rattling all over the stone floor. It made a wondrous disturbance -and seemed a living thing full of fury." -</p> - -<p> -"A solid shot!" exclaimed Cosmo, looking all over the smooth flagstones -as if expecting to see the traces of that visitation. "Where did it come -from?" -</p> - -<p> -"It came from an English brig belonging to Milord Keith's Squadron. She -stood in quite close and opened fire on us. . . . Heaven only knows why. -The audacity of your people! A single shot from one of those big -fellows," he continued, slapping the enormous bulging breech of the gun -by his side, "would have been enough to sink her like a stone." -</p> - -<p> -"I can well believe it. But the fearlessness of our seamen has ceased to -astonish the world long ago," murmured the young traveller. -</p> - -<p> -"There are plenty of fearless people in the world, but luck is even -better than courage. The brig sailed away unscathed. Yes, luck is even -better than courage. Surer than wisdom and stronger than justice. Luck -is a great thing. It is the only thing worth having on one's side. And -you people have always had it. Yes, signore, you belong to a lucky -nation or else you would not be standing here on this platform looking -across the water in the direction of that crumb of land that is the last -refuge of your greatest enemy." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo leaned over the stone parapet near the embrasure of the gun on the -other side of which the man with the short pipe in his hand made a -vaguely emphatic gesture: "I wonder what thoughts pass through your -head," he went on in a quiet detached tone. "Or perhaps you are too -young yet to have many thoughts in your head. Excuse my liberty, but I -have always heard that one may be frank in speech with an Englishman; -and by your speech there can be no doubt of you being of that nation." -</p> - -<p> -"I can assure you I have no thoughts of hatred. . . . Look, the Elban -ship is getting farther away. Or is it only the darkness that makes her -seem so?" -</p> - -<p> -"The night air is heavy. There is more wind on the water than up here, -where we stand; but I don't think she has moved away. You are interested -in that Elban ship, signore." -</p> - -<p> -"There is a fascination now about everything connected with that -island," confessed the ingenuous traveller. "You have just said that I -was too young to think. You don't seem so very much older than myself. -I wonder what thoughts you may have." -</p> - -<p> -"The thoughts of a common man, thoughts that could be of no interest to -an English milord," answered the other, in a grimly deprecatory tone. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you think that all Englishmen are lords?" asked Cosmo, with a laugh. -</p> - -<p> -"I didn't think. I went by your appearance. I remember hearing an old -man once say that you were a lordly nation." -</p> - -<p> -"Really!" exclaimed the young man and laughed again in a low, pleasant -note. "I remember hearing of an old man who called us a nation of -traders." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Nazione di mercante</i>," repeated the man slowly. "Well, that may be -true too. Different men, different wisdoms." -</p> - -<p> -"This didn't occur to me," said Cosmo, seating himself with a little -spring on the stone parapet of the tower. He rested one foot on the -massive gun-carriage and fixed his clear eyes on the dark red streak on -the western sky left by the retreating sun like a long gash inflicted on -the suffering body of the universe. . . . "Different men, different -wisdoms," he repeated, musingly. "I suppose it must be. People's lives -are so very different. . . . And of what kind was the wisdom of your old -man?" -</p> - -<p> -"The wisdom of a great plain as level almost as the sea," said the other -gravely. "His voice was as unexpected when I heard it as your own, -signore. The evening shadows had closed about me just after I had seen -to the west, on the edge of the world as it were, a lion miss his spring -on a bounding deer. They went away right into the glow and vanished. It -was as though I had dreamed. When I turned round there was the old man -behind me no farther away than half the width of this platform. He only -smiled at my startled looks. His long silver locks stirred in the -breeze. He had been watching me, it seems, from folds of ground and from -amongst reed beds for nearly half a day, wondering what I might be at. I -had come ashore to wander on the plain. I like to be alone sometimes. My -ship was anchored in a bight of this deserted coast a good many miles -away, too many to walk back in the dark for a stranger like me. So I -spent the night in that old man's ranch, a hut of grass and reeds, near -a little piece of water peopled by a multitude of birds. He treated me -as if I had been his son. We talked till dawn and when the sun rose I -did not go back to my ship. What I had on board of my own was not of -much value, and there was certainly no one there to address me as "My -son" in that particular tone—you know what I mean, signore." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know—but I think I can guess," was the answer whose -light-hearted yet earnest frankness was particularly boyish and provoked -a smile on the part of the older man. In repose his face was grave. His -English interlocutor went on after a pause. "You deserted from your ship -to join a hermit in a wilderness simply because the tone of his voice -appealed to your heart. Is that your meaning?" -</p> - -<p> -"You have guessed it, signorino. Perhaps there was more in it than that. -There is no doubt about it that I did desert from my ship." -</p> - -<p> -"And where was that?" -</p> - -<p> -"On the coast of South America," answered the man from the other side of -the big gun, with sudden curtness. "And now it is time for us to part." -</p> - -<p> -But neither of them stirred and for some time they remained silent, -growing shadowy to each other on the massive tower, which itself, in the -advancing night, was but a gray shadow above the dark and motionless -sea. -</p> - -<p> -"How long did you stay with that hermit in the desert?" asked Cosmo. -"And how did you leave him?" -</p> - -<p> -"Signore, it was he who left me. After I had buried his body I had -nothing more to do there. I had learned much during that year." -</p> - -<p> -"What is it you learned, my friend? I should like to know." -</p> - -<p> -"Signore, his wisdom was not like that of other men and it would be too -long to explain to you here on this tower and at this late hour of the -day. I learned many things. How to be patient, for instance. . . . -Don't you think, signore, that your friends or the servants at the inn -may become uneasy at your long absence?" -</p> - -<p> -"I tell you I haven't been much more than two hours in this town and I -have spoken to nobody in it till I came upon you, except of course to -the people at the inn." -</p> - -<p> -"They may start looking for you." -</p> - -<p> -"Why should they trouble their heads? It isn't late yet. Why should they -notice my absence?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why? . . . Simply because your supper may be ready by this time," -retorted the man impatiently. -</p> - -<p> -"It may be, but I am not hungry yet," said the young man casually. "Let -them search for me all over the town if they like." Then in a tone of -interest, "Do you think they would think of looking for me here?" he -asked. -</p> - -<p> -"No. This is the last spot anybody would think of," muttered the other -as if to himself. He raised his voice markedly, "We must part indeed. -Good-night, signore." -</p> - -<p> -"Good-night." -</p> - -<p> -The man in the seaman's jacket stared for a moment, then with a brusque -movement cocked his cap with the strange tassel more on the side of his -head. "I am not going away from this spot," he said. -</p> - -<p> -"I thought you were. Why did you wish me good-night then?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because we must part." -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose we must some time or other," agreed Cosmo in a friendly -voice. "I should like to meet you again." -</p> - -<p> -"We must part at once, this moment, on this tower." -</p> - -<p> -"Why?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because I want to be left alone," answered the other after the -slightest of pauses. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, come! Why on earth do you want to be left alone? What is it you -could do here?" protested the other with great good humour. Then as if -struck by an amusing notion, "Unless indeed you want to practise -incantations," he continued lightly, "and perhaps call the Evil One to -your side." He paused. "There are people, you know, that think it can be -done," he added in a mocking tone. -</p> - -<p> -"They are not far wrong," was the other's ominous reply. "Each man has a -devil not very far from his elbow. Don't argue, signore, don't call him -up in me! You had better say no more and go in peace from here." -</p> - -<p> -The young traveller did not change his careless attitude. The man in the -cap heard him say quietly, almost in a tone of self-communion: -</p> - -<p> -"I prefer to stay in peace here." -</p> - -<p> -It was indeed a wonderful peace. The sound of their quiet voices did not -seem to affect it in the least. It had an enormous and overpowering -amplitude which seemed rather to the man in the cap to take the part of -the Englishman's calm obstinacy against his growing anger. He couldn't -repress an impulsively threatening movement in the direction of his -inconvenient companion but it died out in perplexity. He pushed his cap -still more on one side and simply scratched his head. -</p> - -<p> -"You are one of those people that are accustomed to have their own way. -Well, you can't have your way this time. I have asked you quietly to -leave me alone on this tower. I asked you as man to man. But if you -won't listen to reason I . . ." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo, putting the palms of his hands against the edge of the parapet, -sprang lightly nearly to the middle of the platform and landed without a -stagger. His voice was perfectly even. -</p> - -<p> -"Reason is my only guide," he declared. "But your request looks like -mere caprice. For what can you possibly have to do here? The sea birds -are gone to sleep and I have as much right to the air up here as you. -Therefore . . ." -</p> - -<p> -A thought seemed to strike him. "Surely this can't be your trysting -place," he commented in a changed tone through which pierced a certain -sympathy. -</p> - -<p> -A short scornful laugh from the other checked him and he muttered to -himself soberly, "No. Altogether unfit . . . amongst those grim old -guns." He raised his voice. "All I can do is to give you all the room." -He backed away from the centre of the platform and perched himself this -time on the massive breech of a sixty-pounder. "Go on with your -incantations," he said then to the tall and dim figure whose immobility -appeared helpless for a moment. It broke the short period of silence, -saying deliberately: -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose you are aware that at any time since we have begun to talk -together it was open to me to fling myself upon you unawares as you sat -on the parapet and knock you over to the bottom of this tower?" He -waited a moment, then in a deeper tone, "Will you deny it?" he said. -</p> - -<p> -"No, I won't deny it," was the careless answer. "I hadn't thought to be -on my guard. But I can swim." -</p> - -<p> -"Don't you know there is a border of big blocks of stone there? It would -have been a terrible death. . . . And now, will the signore do what I -ask him and return to his inn which is a much safer place than this -platform?" -</p> - -<p> -"Safety is not a great inducement; and I don't believe for a moment you -ever thought of attacking me in a treacherous manner." -</p> - -<p> -"Well," the tall shadowy figure crowned by the shape of the strange cap -admitted reluctantly. "Well, since you put it in those words, signore, I -did not." -</p> - -<p> -"You see! I believe you are a fine fellow. But as it is I am under no -sort of obligation to listen to you." -</p> - -<p> -"You are crafty," burst out the other violently. "It's in the blood. How -is one to deal with people like you?" -</p> - -<p> -"You could try to drive me off," suggested the other. -</p> - -<p> -There was no answer for a time, then the tall figure muttered -reflectively to itself. -</p> - -<p> -"After all—he's an Englishman." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't think myself invincible on that account," observed Cosmo -calmly. -</p> - -<p> -"I know. I have fought against English soldiers in Buenos Ayres. I was -only thinking that, to give the devil his due, men of your nation don't -consort with spies or love tyranny either. . . . Tell me, is it true -that you have only been two hours in this town?" -</p> - -<p> -"Perfectly true." -</p> - -<p> -"And yet all the tyrants of the world are your allies," the shadowy man -pursued his train of thought half aloud. -</p> - -<p> -The no less shadowy traveller remarked quietly into the gathering night: -</p> - -<p> -"You don't know who my friends are." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't, but I think you are not likely to go with a tale to the -Austrian spies or consort with the Piedmontese <i>sbirri.</i> As to the -priests who are poking their noses everywhere, I . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know a single soul in Italy," interrupted the other. -</p> - -<p> -"But you will soon. People like you make acquaintances everywhere. But -it's idle talk with strangers that I fear. Can I trust you as an -Englishman not to talk of what you may see?" -</p> - -<p> -"You may. I can't imagine what unlawful thing you are about to commit -here. I am dying from curiosity. Can it be that you are really some sort -of sorcerer? Go on! Trace your magic circle if that is your business, -and call up the spirits of the dead." -</p> - -<p> -A low grunt was the only answer to this speech uttered in a tone between -jest and earnest. Cosmo watched from the breech of his gun with intense -interest the movements of the man who objected so strongly to his -presence but who now seemed to pay no attention to him at all. They were -not the movements of a magician in so far that they certainly had -nothing to do with the tracing of circles. The figure had stepped over -to the seaward face of the tower and seemed to be pulling endless things -out of the breast pocket of his jacket. The young Englishman got down -from the breech of the gun, without ceasing to peer in a fascinated way, -and moved closer step by step till he threw himself back with an -exclamation of astonishment. "By heavens! The fellow is going to fish." -. . . Cosmo remained mute with surprise for a good many seconds and then -burst out loudly: -</p> - -<p> -"Is this what you displayed all this secrecy for? This is the worst hoax -I ever . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"Come nearer, signore, but take care not to tangle all my twine with -your feet. . . . Do you see this box?" -</p> - -<p> -The heads of the two men had come together confidentially and the young -traveller made out a cylindrical object which was in fact a round tin -box. His companion thrust it into his hand with the request, "Hold it -for me a moment, signore," and then Cosmo had the opportunity to -ascertain that the lid of it was hermetically sealed. The man in the -strange cap dived into the pocket of his breeches for flint and steel. -The Englishman beheld with surprise his lately inimical companion -squeeze himself between the massive tube of the piece of ordnance and -the wall of stone and wriggle outwards into the depth of, the thick -embrasure till nothing of him remained visible but his black stockings -and the soles of his heavy shoes. After a time his voice came deadened -along the thickness of the wall: -</p> - -<p> -"Will you hand me the box now, signore?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo, enlisted in these mysterious proceedings, the nature of which was -becoming clear enough to him, obeyed at once, and approaching the -embrasure thrust the box in at the full length of his arm till it came -in contact with the ready hand of the man who was lying flat on his -stomach with his head projecting beyond the wall of the tower. His -groping hand found and snatched away the box. The twine was attached to -the box and at once its length laid on the platform began to run out -till the very end disappeared. Then the man lying prone within the -thickness of the gun embrasure lay still as death and the young -traveller strained his ears in the absolute silence to catch the -slightest sound at the foot of the tower. But all he could hear was the -faint sound of some distant clock striking somewhere in the town. He -waited a little longer, then in the cautious tone of a willing -accomplice murmured within the opening: -</p> - -<p> -"Got a bite yet?" -</p> - -<p> -The answer came hardly audible: -</p> - -<p> -"No. But this is the very hour." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo felt his interest growing. And yet the facts in themselves were -not very exciting, but all this had the complexion and the charm of an -unexpected adventure, heightened by its mystery, playing itself out -before that old town towering like a carved hill decorated with lights -that began to appear quickly on the sombre and colossal mass of that -lofty shore. The last gleam had died out in the west. The harbour was -dark except for the lantern at the stern of the British ship of the -line. The man in the embrasure made a slight movement. Cosmo became more -alert but apparently nothing happened. There was no murmur of voices, -splash of water, or sign of the slightest stir all round the tower. -Suddenly the man in the embrasure began to wriggle back on to the -platform and in a very few minutes stood up to his full height facing -the unexpected helper. -</p> - -<p> -"She has come and gone," he said. "Did you hear anything, signore?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not a sound. She might have been the ghost of a boat—for you are -alluding to a boat, are you not?" -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Si.</i> And I hope that if any eye on shore had made her out it had -taken her for only a ghost. Of course that English vessel of war rows -guard at night. But it isn't to look out for ghosts." -</p> - -<p> -"I should think not. Ghosts are of no account. Could there be anything -more futile than the ghost of a boat?" -</p> - -<p> -"You are one of the strong-minded, signore. Ghosts are the concern of -the ignorant—yet who knows? But it does sound funny to talk of the -ghost of a boat, a thing of brute matter. For wouldn't a ghost be a -thing of spirit, a man's soul itself made restless by grief or love, or -remorse or anger? Such are the stories that one hears. But the old -hermit of the plain, of whom I spoke, assured me that the dead are too -glad to be done with life to make trouble on earth." -</p> - -<p> -"You and your hermit!" exclaimed Cosmo in a boyish and marvelling tone. -"I suppose it is no use me asking you what I have been just helping you -in." -</p> - -<p> -"A little smuggling operation, signore. Surely, signore, England has -custom houses and therefore must have smugglers too." -</p> - -<p> -"One has heard of them of course. But I wouldn't mind a bet that there -is not one of them that resembles you. Neither do I believe that they -deal with packages as small as the one you lowered into that ghostly -boat. You saw her of course. There was a boat." -</p> - -<p> -"There was somebody to cut the string, as you see, signore. Look, here -is all that twine, all of it but a little piece. It may have been a man -swimming in the dark water. A man with a soul, fit to make a ghost of . . . -let us call him a ghost, signore." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh yes, let us," the other said lightly. "I am sure that when I wake up -to-morrow all this will seem to me a dream. Even now I feel inclined to -pinch myself." -</p> - -<p> -"What's that for, in Heaven's name?" -</p> - -<p> -"It's a saying we have in our country. Yes, you, your hermit, our talk, -and this very tower, all this will be like a dream." -</p> - -<p> -"I would say 'nothing better' if it was not that most people are only -too ready to talk about their dreams. No, signore, let all this be to -you of less consequence than if it were a tale of ghosts, of mere ghosts -in which you do not believe. You forced yourself on me as if you were -the lord of this place, but I feel friendly enough to you." -</p> - -<p> -"I didn't ask for your friendship," retorted the young traveller in a -clear voice so void of all offence that the other man accepted it for a -mere statement of a fact. -</p> - -<p> -"Certainly not. I spoke of my own feelings, and though I am, you may -say, a new-comer and a stranger in my own native city, I assure you it -is better to have me for a friend than for an enemy. And the best thing -of all would be to forget all about me. It would be also the kindest -thing you could do." -</p> - -<p> -"Really?" said Cosmo in a tone of sympathy. "How can you expect me to -forget the most extraordinary thing that ever happened to me in all my -life?" -</p> - -<p> -"In all your life! H'm! You have a long life before you yet, signorino." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, but this is an adventure." -</p> - -<p> -"That's what I mean. You have so many marvellous adventures before you, -signorino, that this one is sure to be forgotten very soon. Then why not -at once?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, my friend, you don't seem somehow a person one could easily -forget." -</p> - -<p> -"I—— God forbid. . . . Good-night, signore." -</p> - -<p> -No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the man in the cap -bounded across the platform, dived into the black square opening on its -landward side, and ran down the steps so lightly that not a sound -reached the ears of the other. Cosmo went down the winding stair, but -cautiously in the profound darkness. The door at the bottom stood open -and he stepped out on to the deserted jetty. He could see on it nothing -in the shape of a fleeting shadow. -</p> - -<p> -On the very edge of the shore a low little building with three arcades -sent a dim gleam of light through its open door. It seemed to be a sort -of guardroom, for there was a sentry, an Austrian soldier apparently, in -a white coat. His duty, however, seemed to be concerned with the -landing-steps in front of the guardhouse, and he let the young traveller -pass on as though he had not seen him at all. Dark night had settled -upon the long quay. Here and there a dim street lamp threw a feeble -light on the uneven stones which the feet of the young traveller with -his springy walk seemed hardly to touch. The pleasurable sensation of -something extraordinary having happened to him accelerated his -movements. He was also feeling very hungry and he was making haste -towards his inn to dine first and then to think his adventure over, for -there was a strong conviction within him that he certainly had had an -adventure of a nature at the same time stimulating and obscure. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>II</h4> - -<p> -Cosmo Latham had an inborn faculty of orientation in strange -surroundings, most invaluable in a cavalry officer, but of which he had -never made much use, not even during the few months when he served as a -cornet of horse in the Duke of Wellington's army in the last year of the -peninsular campaign. There had been but few occasions to make use of it -for a freshly joined subaltern. It stood him in good stead that night, -however, while making his way to his inn in a town in which he was a -complete stranger, for it allowed him, with but little concern for the -direction he took, to think of his home which he loved for itself, every -stone and every tree of it—and of the two people he left there, whom -he loved too, each in a different way: his father, Sir Charles, and his -sister Henrietta. -</p> - -<p> -Latham Hall, a large straggling building showing traces of many styles, -flanked by a romantic park and commanding a vast view of the Yorkshire -hills, had been the hereditary home of Lathams from the times before the -Great Rebellion. That it escaped confiscation then might have been the -effect of the worldly prudence of the Latham of the time. He probably -took good care not to shock persons of position and influence. That, -however, was not the characteristic of the later Lathams down to Sir -Charles, Cosmo's father. -</p> - -<p> -Sir Charles's unconventional individuality had never been understood by -his country neighbours. Born endowed with a good intellect, a lively -imagination, and a capacity for social intercourse, it had been his -fate, owing to the idiosyncrasies of his own father, to spend his early -youth in the depths of Yorkshire in surroundings not at all congenial to -his tastes. Later he served for a time in the Guards; but he very soon -left the army to make an extended tour in France and Italy. In those last -days before the Revolution <i>le chevalier</i> Latham obtained a great -social recognition in Paris and Versailles amongst the very best people, -not so much by his brilliance as by the depth of his character and the -largeness of his ideas. But suddenly he tore himself away from his -friendships and successes and proceeded to Italy. There, amongst the -members of the English colony in Florence, he met the two Aston girls -and, for some reason or other, became a great favourite with their -widowed mother. But at the end of some months he suddenly made up his -mind to return home. During a long, sleepless night, which he spent -pacing up and down in the agony of an internal struggle with himself in -the magnificent rooms of his lodgings in Florence, he concluded that he -would go home by sea. It was the easiest way of avoiding coming near -Paris. He had heard not long before that the best friends he had made in -the brilliant society he had frequented in France, the Marquis and the -Marquise d'Armand, had a daughter born to them. At Leghorn on the very -eve of embarking he had another struggle with himself—but he went by -sea. By the time when, after a long sea passage, he put his foot on -native soil he had renounced the idea of hurrying on north to shut -himself up in his country home. He lingered in London, disdainful and -idle, and began reluctantly to fall into the ways of a man about town, -when a friend returning from Italy brought him news that Miss Aston was -going to marry a Tuscan nobleman of mature years, and, as a piece of -queer Florentine gossip, that if the younger sister. Miss Molly Aston, -had refused two suitors in quick succession it was because she regarded -herself in some way as being engaged to him, Charles Latham. -</p> - -<p> -Whether stung by his conscience or urged by indignation Sir Charles -started impulsively for Italy, travelling across the south of France. It -was a long road. At first he had been amazed, confounded, and angry; but -before he came to the end of his journey he had time to reflect upon -what might have easily become an absurd and odious situation. He said to -himself that a lot of bother of one sort and another would be saved by -his marrying Molly Aston. He did so, to the applause of all right-minded -people, and at the end of two years spent abroad came home with his wife -to shut himself up in his ancestral hall commanding the view of a wide -and romantic landscape, which he thought one of the finest in the world. -</p> - -<p> -Molly Aston had been beautiful enough in her time to inspire several -vagrant poets and at least one Italian sculptor; but as Cosmo grew older -he began to understand that his mother had been a nonentity in the -family life. The greatest piece of self-assertion on her part was his -name. She had insisted on calling him Cosmo because the Astons counted, -far back in the past, an ancestress of Florentine origin, supposed to -have been a connection of the Medici family. Cosmo was fair, and the -name was all about him that he had received from his mother. Henrietta -was a type of dark beauty. Lady Latham died when both her children were -still young. In her life she adorned Latham Hall in the same way as a -statue might have adorned it. Her household power was limited to the -ordering of the dinner. With habits of meticulous order and a -marvellously common-place mind she had a temperament which, if she had -not fallen violently in love at the age of eighteen with the same man -whom she married, would have made her fond of society, of amusement, and -perhaps even of dissipation. But her only amusement and dissipation -consisted of writing long letters to innumerable relations and friends -all over the world, of whom after her marriage she saw but very little. -She never complained. Her hidden fear of all initiative and the secret -ardour of her temperament found their fulfilment in an absolute -submission to Sir Charles's will. She would never have dreamed of asking -for horses for a visit in the neighbourhood, but when her husband -remarked, "I think it would be advisable for you, my lady, to call at -such and such a house," her face would light up, she would answer with -alacrity, "Certainly, Sir Charles," and go off to array herself -magnificently indeed (perhaps because of that drop of Medici blood), but -also with great taste. -</p> - -<p> -As the years went on Sir Charles aged more than he ought to have done, -and even began to grow a little stout, but no one could fail to see that -he had been a very handsome man in his time and that his wife's early -infatuation for him was justified in a way. In politics he was a -partisan of Mr. Pitt rather than a downright Tory. He loved his country, -believed in its greatness, in its superior virtue, in its irresistible -power. Nothing could shake his fidelity to national prejudices of every -sort. He had no great liking for grandees and mere aristocrats, despised -the fashionable world, and would have nothing whatever to do with any -kind of "upstart." Without being gentle he was naturally kind and -hospitable. His native generosity was so well known that no one was -surprised when he offered the shelter of his Yorkshire house to a family -of French refugees, the Marquis and the Marquise d'Armand and their -little daughter Adèle. They had arrived in England in a state of almost -complete destitution but with two servants who had shared the dangers -and the miseries of their flight from the excesses of the Revolution. -</p> - -<p> -The presence of all these people at Latham Hall which, considered at -first as a temporary arrangement, was to last for some years, did not -affect in the least Lady Latham's beautifully dressed, idle equanimity. -Had not the D'Armands been Sir Charles's intimate friends years ago, in -France? But she had no curiosity. She was vaguely impressed by the fact -that the Marquise was a god-daughter of the Queen of Naples. For the -rest it was only so many people more in the servants' hall, at the -dinner table, and in the drawing room where the evenings were spent. -</p> - -<p> -High up on one of the walls a lamp with a shaded reflector concentrated -its light on the yellow satin coat on the half-length portrait of a -rubicund Latham in a white coburg, which but for the manly and sensitive -mouth might have been the portrait of his own coachman. Apart from that -spot of beautiful colour the vast room with its windows giving on a -terrace (from which Sir Charles was in the habit of viewing sunsets) -remained dim with an effect of immensity in which the occupants, and -even Sir Charles himself, acquired the appearance of unsubstantial -shadows uttering words that had to travel across long, almost unlighted -distances. -</p> - -<p> -On one side of the mantelpiece of Italian marbles (a late addition -designed by Sir Charles himself) Lady Latham's profuse jewellery -sparkled about her splendid and restful person posed placidly on a sofa. -Opposite her, the Marquise would be lying down on a deep couch with one -of Lady Latham's shawls spread over her feet. The D'Armands in their -flight from the Terror had saved very little besides their lives, and -the Marquise d'Armand's life had by this time become a very precarious -possession. -</p> - -<p> -Sir Charles was perhaps more acutely aware of this than the Marquis her -husband. Sir Charles remembered her gentle in her changing moods of -gaiety and thought, charming, active, fascinating, and certainly the -most intelligent as she was the most beautiful of the women of the -French court. Her voice reaching him clear but feeble across the drawing -room had a pathetic appeal; and the tone of his answers was tinged with -the memory of a great sentiment and with the deference due to great -misfortunes. From time to time Lady Latham would make a remark in a -matter-of-fact tone which would provoke something resembling curtness in -Sir Charles's elaborately polite reply, and the thought that woman would -have made the very Lord's Prayer sound prosaic. And then in the long -pauses they would pursue their own thoughts as perplexed and full of -unrest as the world of seas and continents that began at the edge of the -long terrace graced by gorgeous sunsets; the wide world filled with the -strife of ideas and the struggle of nations in perhaps the most troubled -time of its history. -</p> - -<p> -From the depths of the Italian chimneypiece the firelight of blazing -English logs would fall on Adèle d'Armand sitting quietly on a low -stool near her mother's couch. Her fair hair, white complexion, and dark -blue eyes contrasted strongly with the deeper colour scheme of Henrietta -Latham, whose locks were rich chestnut brown and whose eyes had a dark -lustre full of intelligence rather than sentiment. Now and then the -French child would turn her head to look at Sir Charles, for whom in her -silent existence she had developed a filial affection. -</p> - -<p> -In those days Adèle d'Armand did not see much of her own father. Most -of the time the Marquis was away. Each of his frequent absences was an -act of devotion to his exiled Princes, who appreciated it no doubt but -found devotion only natural in a man of that family. The evidence of -their regard for the Marquis took the shape mainly of distant and -dangerous missions to the courts of north Germany, and northern Italy. -In the general disruption of the old order those missions were all -futile, because no one ever stopped an avalanche by means of plots and -negotiations. But in the Marquis the perfect comprehension of that -profound truth was mingled with the sort of enthusiasm that fabricates -the very hopes on which it feeds. He would receive his instructions for -those desperate journeys with extreme gravity and depart on them without -delay, after a flying visit to the Hall to embrace his ailing wife and -his silent child and hold a grave conference with his stately English -friend from whom he never concealed a single one of his thoughts or his -hopes. And Sir Charles approved of them both; because the thoughts were -sober and absolutely free from absurd illusions common to all exiles, -thus appealing to Sir Charles's reason and also to his secret disdain of -all great aristocracies—and the second, being based on the Marquis's -conviction of England's unbroken might and consistency, seemed to Sir -Charles the most natural thing in the world. -</p> - -<p> -They paced a damp laurel-bordered walk together for an hour or so: Sir -Charles lame and stately like a disabled child of Jupiter himself, the -Marquis restraining his stride and stooping with a furrowed brow to talk -in measured, level tones. The wisdom of Sir Charles expressed itself in -curt sentences in which scorn for men's haphazard activities and -shortsighted views was combined with a calm belief in the future. -</p> - -<p> -After the peace of Amiens the Compte d'Artois, the representative of the -exiled dynasty in England, having expressed the desire to have the -Marquis always by his side, the Marquise and Adèle left Latham Hall for -the poverty and the makeshifts of the life of well-nigh penniless exiles -in London. It was as great a proof of devotion to his royal cause as any -that could be given. They settled down in a grimy house of yellow brick -in four rooms up a very narrow and steep staircase. For attendants they -had a dark mulatto maid, brought as a child from the West Indies before -the Revolution by an aunt of the Marquise, and a man of rather -nondescript nationality called Bernard, who had been at one time a -hanger-on in the country house of the D'Armands, but following the -family in its flight and its wanderings before they had found refuge in -England, had displayed unexpected talents as a general factotum. Life at -Latham Hall had bored him exceedingly. The sense of complete security -was almost too much for his patience. The regularity of the hours and -the certitude of abundant meals depressed his spirits at times. The -change to London revived him greatly, for there he had something to do -and found daily occasion to display his varied gifts. He went marketing -in the early morning, dusted the room he called the salon, cooked the -meals, inspired and made happy by the large white smile of Mlle. Aglae, -the Negress, with whom he was very much in love. At twelve o'clock, -after tidying himself a bit, he would go in on the tips of his heavy -square shoes and carry the Marquise from her room to the sofa in the -salon with elaborate sureness and infinite respect, while Aglae followed -with pillow, shawl, and smelling bottle, wearing a forced air of -gravity. Bernard was acutely aware of her presence and would be -certain—the Marquise once settled on her sofa—to get a flash of -a white grin all to himself. Later Mlle. Adèle, white and fair, would go -out visiting, followed by Aglae as closely as night follows day; and -Bernard would watch them down the depths of the staircase in the hope of -catching a sight of a quickly upturned dark brown face with fine rolling -eyes. This would leave him happy for the rest of the afternoon. In the -evening his function was to announce visitors who had toiled up the -stairs: some of the first names in France that had come trudging on foot -through the mud or dust of the squalid streets to fill the dimly lighted -room which was the salon of the Marquise d'Armand. For those duties -Bernard would put on a pair of white stockings, which Miss Aglae washed -for him every second day, and encase his wide shoulders in a very tight -green shabby jacket with large metal buttons. Miss Aglae always found a -minute or two to give him a hasty inspection and a brush-down. Those -were delightful instants. Holding his breath and in a state of rigid -beatitude he turned about as ordered in gay whispers by his exotic -lady-love. Later he would sit on a stool outside the closed door -listening to the well-bred soft uproar of conversation; and when the -guests began to depart he lighted them downstairs, holding a tallow dip -in a small candlestick over the banister of the landing. When his duties -for the day were over he made up for himself a bed on the floor of a -narrow passage which separated the living rooms from a sort of large -cupboard in which Miss Aglae reposed from her daily labours. Bernard, -lying under a pair of thin blankets and with the tallow candle burning -on the floor, kept slumber off till Miss Aglae stuck out her head tied up -in an old red foulard—nothing but her head through the crack of the -door—in order to have a little whispered conversation. That was the -time when the servants exchanged their views and communicated to each -other their ideas and observations. The black maid's were shrewder than -the white factotum's. Being a personal attendant of the two ladies she -had occasion to see and hear more than her admirer. They commented on -the evident decline of the Marquise's health, not dolefully but simply -as a significant fact of the situation; on the Marquis's manner of daily -life which had become domestic and almost sedentary. He went out every -day but now he never went away for weeks and months as he used to -before. Those sudden and mysterious missions for which a misanthropic -Yorkshire baronet had paid out of his own pocket had come to an end. A -Marquis d'Armand could not be sent out as a common spy and there was now -no court in Christendom that would dare to receive an emissary, secret -or open, of the royal exiles. Bernard, who could read, explained these -things shortly to Miss Aglae. All great folk were terrified at that -Bonaparte. He made all the generals tremble. On those facts Miss Aglae -would have it that he must be a sorcerer. Bernard had another view of -Napoleonic greatness. It was nothing but the power of lies. And on one -occasion after a slight hesitation he burst out: "Shall I tell you the -truth about him. Miss Aglae?" The tied-up black head protruding through -the crack of the door nodded assent many times in the dim light of the -tallow dip. "Well then," continued Bernard with another desperate -effort, "he is of no account." -</p> - -<p> -Miss Aglae repressed with difficulty the loud burst of laughter which -was the usual expression of her unsophisticated emotions. She had heard -ladies and gentlemen in the salon express a very similar opinion of -Bonaparte, but she thought suddenly of Miss Adèle and emitted a sigh. -</p> - -<p> -"He seems to get him paw on the whole world, anyhow. What sort of a -fellow is he, Bernard? You have seen him." -</p> - -<p> -Bernard had seen the fellow. He assured Miss Aglae that he was a -miserable shrimp of a man in big boots and with lank hair hanging down -his yellow cheeks. "I could break him in two like a straw if I could -only get him into my hands." -</p> - -<p> -Believing it implicitly, the black maid suggested that Bernard should go -and do it. -</p> - -<p> -"I would go at once," said the faithful follower. "But if I went I would -never see you again. He has always a hundred thousand men around him." -</p> - -<p> -At this Miss Aglae, who had begun to smile, ended with a sigh of such a -deeply sorrowful nature that Bernard assured her that the time would -come, yes, some day the time would come when everybody would get back -his own. Aglae was ready to believe this prophecy. But meantime there -was Miss Adèle. That sweet child was now ready to get married, but -everybody was so very poor. Bernard put on a sentimental expression in -the dim light of the tallow dip, the flame of which swayed by the side -of his straw mattress and made the shadow of his head, protected by a -nightcap, dance too, high up the wall of the drafty passage. Timidly he -muttered of love. That would get over all the difficulties. -</p> - -<p> -"You very stupid man, Mr. Bernard. Love! What sort of trash you talk? -Love don't buy fish for dinner." Then with sudden anxiety she inquired: -"Have you got money for marketing to-morrow?" Bernard had the money. Not -much, but he had the money. "Then you go out early and buy fish for -dinner. This Madame la Marquise orders. Easier than killing an emperor," -she continued sarcastically. "And take care fat woman in Billingsgate -don't cheat you too much," she added with dignity before drawing her -head in and shutting the door of her dark cupboard. -</p> - -<p> -A month later, sitting upon his straw bed and with his eyes fixed on the -door of Miss Aglae's cupboard, Bernard had just begun to think that he -had done something to offend, and that he would be deprived of his -whispered midnight chat, when the door opened, the head of the girl -appeared in its usual position. It drooped. Its white eyeballs glistened -full of tears. It said nothing for a long time. Bernard was extremely -alarmed. He wanted to know in an anxious whisper what was wrong. The -maid let him cudgel his brains for a whole minute before she made the -statement that oh! she did not like the looks of a certain gentleman -visitor in a "too-much-laced coat." -</p> - -<p> -Bernard, relieved but uncomprehending, snatched the candlestick off the -floor and raised it to the protruded head of the maid. -</p> - -<p> -"What is there to cry about?" he asked. The tears glistening on the -dusky cheek astonished him beyond measure; and as an African face lends -itself to the expression of sorrow more than any other type of human -countenance, he was profoundly moved, and without knowing the cause, by -mere sympathy felt ready to cry himself. -</p> - -<p> -"You don't see! You don't understand anything, Bernard. You stand there -at the door like a stick. What is the use of you I can't tell." -</p> - -<p> -Bernard would have felt the injustice to be unbearable if he had not had -a strong sense of his own merits. Moreover, it was obvious that Aglae -was thoroughly upset. As to the man in the too-much-laced coat, Bernard -remembered that he was dressed very splendidly indeed. He had called -first in company of a very fine English gentleman, a friend of the -family, and he had repeated the call always with that same friend. It -was a fact he had never called by himself yet. The family had dined with -him only the day before, as Bernard knew very well because he had had to -call the hackney coach and had given the address, not to mention the -confidential task of carrying the Marquise down the stairs and then up -again on their return from that entertainment. There could be nothing -wrong with a man with whom the family dined. And the Marquise herself -too, she who, so to speak, never went out anywhere! -</p> - -<p> -"What has he done?" he asked without marked excitement. "I have never -seen you so distressed. Miss Aglae." -</p> - -<p> -"Me upset? I should think me upset. I fear him wants carry off Mlle. -Adèle—poor child." -</p> - -<p> -This staggered the faithful Bernard. "I should like him to try," he said -pugnaciously. "I keep a cudgel there in this passage." A scornful -exclamation from the maid made him pause. "Oh!" he said in a changed -tone, "carry her off for a wife? Well, what's wrong in that?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! you silly!" whimpered Aglae. "Can't you see him twice, twice and a -half, the age of Miss Adèle?" -</p> - -<p> -Bernard remained silent a minute. "Fine-looking man," he remarked at -last. "Do you know anything else about him?" -</p> - -<p> -"Him got plenty of money," sobbed out Aglae. -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose the parents will have something to say about that," said -Bernard, after a short meditation. "And if Mlle. Adèle herself . . ." -</p> - -<p> -But Aglae wailed under her breath, as it were. "It's done, Bernard, it's -done!" -</p> - -<p> -Bernard, fascinated, stared upwards at the maid. A mental reference to -abundance of money for marketing flashed through his mind. -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose Mlle. Adèle can love a man like that. Why not?" -</p> - -<p> -"Him got very fine clothes certainly," hissed Aglae furiously. Then she -broke down and became full of desolation. "Oh, Bernard, them poor -people, you should have seen their faces this morning when I served the -breakfast. I feel as if I must make a big howl while I give plate to M. -le Marquis. I hardly dare to look at anybody." -</p> - -<p> -"And Mademoiselle?" asked Bernard in an anxious whisper. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't like to look at her either," went on Aglae in a tone of -anguish. "She got quite a flush on her face. She think it very great and -fine, make everybody rich. I ready to die with sorrow, Bernard. She -don't know. She too young. Why don't you cry with me?—you great -stupid man." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>III</h4> - -<p> -The marriage, the prospect of which failed to commend itself to the -coloured maid, took place in due course. The contract which expressed -the business side of that alliance was graced by the signature of a -Prince of the blood and by two other signatures of a most aristocratic -complexion. The French colony in London refrained from audible comments. -The gracious behaviour of H.R.H. the Duc de Berry to the bridegroom -killed all criticism in the very highest circles of the emigration. In -less exalted circles there were slight shrugs and meaning glances, but -very little else besides, except now and then a veiled sarcasm which -could be ascribed to envy as much as to any other sentiment. Amongst the -daughters of the emigration there must have been more than one who in -her heart of hearts thought Adèle d'Armand a very lucky girl. The -splendour of the entertainments which were given to the London society -by the newly wedded couple after their return from the honeymoon put it -beyond all doubt that the man whom Aglae described as wearing a -"too-much-laced coat" was very rich. It began also to be whispered that -he was a man of fantastic humours and of eccentric whims of the sort -that do not pass current in the best society; especially in the case of -a man whose rank was dubious and whose wealth was but recently acquired. -But the embittered and irreconcilable remnant of the exiled aristocracy -gave but little of its sympathy to Adèle d'Armand. She ought to have waited -till the King was restored, and either married suitably—or else -entered a convent for ladies of rank. For these too would soon be -restored. -</p> - -<p> -The Marquis, before the engagement of his daughter had become public, -had written to his friend Sir Charles of the impending marriage in -carefully selected terms which demanded nothing but a few words of -formal congratulation. Of his son-in-law he mentioned little more than -the name. It was, he said, that of a long-impoverished Piedmontese -family with good French connections formed in the days before it had -fallen into comparative obscurity but, the Marquis insisted, fully -recognized by the parties concerned. It was the family De Montevesso. -The world had heard nothing of it for more than a century, the Marquis -admitted parenthetically. His daughter's intended husband's name was -Helion—Count Helion de Montevesso. The title had been given to him by -the King of Sardinia just before that unfortunate monarch was driven out -of his dominions by the armies of republican France. It was the reward -of services rendered at a critical time and none the less meritorious -because, the Marquis admitted, they were of a financial nature. Count -Helion, who went away very young from his native country and wandered in -many lands, had amassed a large personal fortune, the Marquis went on to -say, which luckily was invested in a manner that made it safe from -political revolutions and social disasters overwhelming both France and -Italy. That fortune, as a matter of fact, had not been made in Europe, -but somewhere beyond the seas. The Marquis's letter reached Latham Hall -in the evening of an autumn day. -</p> - -<p> -The very young Miss Latham, seated before an embroidery frame, watched -across the drawing room her father reading the letter under the glare of -the reflector lamp and at the feet, as it were, of the Latham in the -yellow satin coat. Sir Charles raised his eyebrows, which with passing -years had become bushy and spoiled a little the expression of his -handsome face. Miss Latham was made very anxious by his play of -physiognomy. She had already been told after the first rustle of -unfolded paper that her big friend Adèle d'Armand (Miss Latham was four -years younger) was going to be married, and had become suddenly, but -inwardly, excited. Every moment she expected her father to tell her -something more. She was dying from impatience; but there was nothing -further except the rustle of paper—and now this movement of the -eyebrows. Then Sir Charles lowered his hands slowly. She could contain -herself no longer. -</p> - -<p> -"Who is it, Papa?" she asked with animation. -</p> - -<p> -Henrietta Latham was fifteen then. Her dark eyes had remained as large -as ever. The purity of her complexion, which was not of the milk-white -kind, was admirable and the rich shade of the brown curls clustering on -each side of her faintly glowing cheeks made a rich and harmonious -combination. Sir Charles gazed at his daughter's loveliness with an air -of shocked abstraction. But he too could not contain himself. He -departed from his stateliness so far as to growl out scathingly: -</p> - -<p> -"An upstart of some kind." -</p> - -<p> -Miss Latham was, for all her lively manner, not given to outward -manifestations of emotions. This intelligence was too shocking for a -gasp or an exclamation. She only flushed slowly to the roots of her -pretty hair. An upstart simply meant to her everything that was bad in -the way of a human being, but the scathing tone of Sir Charles's -outburst also augmented her profound emotion, for it seemed to extend to -Adèle d'Armand herself. It shocked her tender loyalty towards the -French girl, which had not been diminished by a separation of more than -three years. She said quietly: -</p> - -<p> -"Adèle . . . Impossible!" -</p> - -<p> -The flush ebbed out of her healthy cheeks and left them pale, with the -eyes darker than Sir Charles had ever seen them before. Those evidences -of his daughter's emotion recalled Sir Charles to himself. After looking -at his daughter fixedly for a moment he murmured the word "impossible" -without any particular accent and again raised the letter to his eyes. -</p> - -<p> -He did not find it in anything to modify his first impression of the man -whom Adèle d'Armand was about to marry. Once more in his vaguely -explanatory message the Marquis alluded to the wealth of his prospective -son-in-law. It gave him a standing in the best society which his -personal merits could not perhaps have secured for him so completely. -Then the Marquis talked about his wife's health. The Marquise required -many comforts, constant care, and cheerful surroundings. He had been -enabled to leave the disagreeable lodgings in a squalid street for a -little house in Chiswick very near London. He complained to his old -friend that the uncompromising royalists reproached him bitterly for -having signed a three-years' lease. It seemed to them an abominable -apostasy from the faith in a triumphal return of the old order of things -in a month or two. "I have caused quite a scandal by acting in this -sensible manner," he wrote. "I am very much abused, but I have no doubt -that even those who judge me most severely will be glad enough to come -to Adèle's wedding." -</p> - -<p> -Then, as if unable to resist the need to open his heart, he began the -next line with the words: -</p> - -<blockquote><p> -I need not tell you that all this is my daughter's own doing. The demand -for her hand was made to us regularly through Lord G., who is a good -friend of mine, though he belongs to the faction of Mr. Fox in which the -Count of Montevesso numbers most of his English friends. But directly we -had imparted the proposal to Adèle she took a step you may think -incredible, and which from a certain point of view might even be called -undutiful, if such a word could ever be applied to the sweet and devoted -child our Adèle has always been to us. At her personal request, made -without consulting either her mother or myself. Lord G. had the weakness -to arrange a meeting between her and the Count at his own house. What -those two could have said to each other I really cannot imagine. When we -heard of it, the matter was so far settled that there was nothing left -for us but to accept the inevitable . . . -</p></blockquote> - -<p> -Again Sir Charles let his big white aristocratic hands descend on his -knees. His daughter's dark head drooped over the frame, and he had a -vision of another head, very different and very fair, by its side. It -had been a part of his retired life and had had a large share of his -affection. How large it was he discovered only now, at this moment, when -he felt that it was in a sense lost to him for ever. "Inevitable," he -muttered to himself with a half-scornful, half-pained intonation. Sir -Charles could understand the sufferings, the difficulties, the -humiliations of poverty. But the Marquis might have known that, far or -near, he could have counted on the assistance of his friend. For some -years past he had never hesitated to dip into his purse. But that was -for those mysterious journeys and those secret and important missions -his Princes had never hesitated to entrust him with without ever -troubling their heads about the means. Such was the nature of Princes, -Sir Charles reflected with complete bitterness. And now came this . . . -A whole young life thrown away perhaps, in its innocence, in its -ignorance. . . . How old could Adèle be now? Eighteen or nineteen. Not -so very much younger than her mother was when he used to see so much of -her in Paris and Versailles, when she had managed to put such an impress -on his heart that later he did not care whom he married or where he -lived. . . . Inevitable! . . . Sir Charles could not be angry with the -Marquise, now a mere languid shadow of that invincible charm that his -heart had not been able to resist. She and her husband must have given -up all their hopes, all their loyal royalist hopes before they could bow -like this to the Inevitable. It had not been difficult for him to learn -to love that fascinating French child as though she had been another -daughter of his own. For a moment he experienced an anguish so acute -that it made him move slightly in his chair. Half aloud he muttered the -thought that came into his mind: -</p> - -<p> -"Austerlitz has done it." -</p> - -<p> -Miss Latham raised her lustrous dark eyes with an enquiring expression -and murmured, "Papa?" -</p> - -<p> -Sir Charles got up and seized his stick. "Nothing, my dear, nothing." He -wanted to be alone. But on going out of the room he stopped by the -embroidery frame and, bending down, kissed the forehead of his -daughter—his English daughter. No issue of a great battle could -affect her future. As to the other girl, she was lost to him and it -couldn't be helped. A battle had destroyed the fairness of her life. -This was the disadvantage of having been born French or indeed belonging -to any other nation of the continent. There were forces there that -pushed people to rash or unseemly actions; actions that seemed dictated -by despair and therefore wore an immoral aspect. Sir Charles understood -Adèle d'Armand even better than he understood his own daughter, or at -least he understood her with greater sympathy. She had a generous -nature. She was too young, too inexperienced to know what she was doing -when she took in hand the disposal of her own person in favour of that -apparently Piedmontese upstart with his obscure name and his -mysteriously acquired fortune. "I only hope the fortune is there," -thought Sir Charles with grim scepticism. But as to that there could be -no doubt, judging from the further letters he received from his old -friend. After a short but brilliant period of London life the upstart -had carried Adèle off to France. He had bought an estate in Piedmont, -which was his native country, and another with a splendid house, near -Paris. Sir Charles was not surprised to hear a little later that the -Marquise and the Marquis had also returned to France. The time of -persecution was over; most of the great royalist families were -returning, unreconciled in sentiment if wavering in their purposes. That -his old friend should ever be dazzled by imperial grandeurs Sir Charles -could not believe. Though he had abandoned his daughter to an upstart, -he was too good a royalist to abandon his principles, for which -certainly he would have died if that had been of any use. But he had -returned to France. Most of his exiled friends had returned too, and Sir -Charles understood very well that the Marquis and his wife wanted to be -somewhere near their daughter. This departure closed a long chapter in -his life, and afterwards Sir Charles hardly ever mentioned his French -friends. The only positive thing which Henrietta knew was that Adèle -d'Armand had married an upstart and had returned to France. She had -communicated that knowledge to her brother, who had stared with evident -surprise but had made no comment. Living away from home at school and -afterwards in Cambridge, his father's French friends had remained for -him as shadowy figures on the shifting background of a very poignant, -very real, and intense drama of contemporary history, dominated by one -enormously vital and in its greatness immensely mysterious -individuality—the only man of his time. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo Latham at the threshold of life had adopted neither of the -contrasted views of Napoleon Emperor entertained by his contemporaries. -For him as for his father before him, the world offered a scene of -conflicting emotions in which facts appraised by reason preserved a -mysterious complexity and a dual character. One evening during an -artless discussion with young men of his own age, it had occurred to him -to say that Bonaparte seemed to be the only man amongst a lot of old -scarecrows. "Look how he knocks them over," he had explained. A moment -of silence followed. Then a voice objected: -</p> - -<p> -"Then perhaps he is not so great as some of you try to make him out." -</p> - -<p> -"I didn't mean that exactly," said Cosmo in a sobered tone. "Nobody can -admire that man more than I do. Perhaps the world may be none the worse -for a scarecrow here and there left on the borders of what is right or -just. I only wished to express my sense of the moving force in his -genius." -</p> - -<p> -"What does he stand for?" asked the same voice. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo shook his head. "Many things, and some of them too obvious to -mention. But I can't help thinking that there are some which we cannot -see yet." -</p> - -<p> -"And some of them that are dead already," retorted his interlocutor. -"They died in his very hands. But there is one thing for which he stands -and that will never die. You seem to have forgotten it. It is the spirit -of hostility to this nation; to what we in this room, with our different -views and opinions, stand for in the last instance." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, that!" said Cosmo confidently. "What we stand for isn't an old -scarecrow. Great as he is he will never knock that over. His arm is not -long enough, however far his thoughts may go. He has got to work with -common men." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know what you mean. What else are we? I believe you admire -him." -</p> - -<p> -"I do," confessed Cosmo sturdily. -</p> - -<p> -This did not prevent him from joining the army in Spain before the year -was out, and that without asking for Sir Charles's approval. Sir Charles -condemned severely the policy of using the forces of the Crown in the -Peninsula. He did not like the ministry of the day and he had a strong -prejudice against all the Wellesleys to whose aggrandizement this whole -policy seemed effected. But when at the end of a year and a half, after -the final victory of Toulouse, his son appeared in Yorkshire, the two -made up for the past coolness by shaking hands warmly for nearly a whole -minute. Cosmo really had done very little campaigning and soon declared -to his father the wish to leave the army. There would be no more -fighting for years and years, he argued, and though he did not dislike -fighting in a good cause, he had no taste for mere soldiering. He wanted -to see something of the world which had been closed to us for so long. -Sir Charles, ageing and dignified, leaned on his stick on the long -terrace. -</p> - -<p> -"All the world was never closed to us," he said. -</p> - -<p> -"I wasn't thinking of the East, sir," explained Cosmo. "I heard some -people talk about its mystery, but I think Europe is mysterious enough -just now, and even more interesting." -</p> - -<p> -Sir Charles nodded his bare gray head in the chill evening breeze. -</p> - -<p> -"France, Germany," he murmured. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo thought that he would prefer to see something of Italy first. He -would go north afterwards. -</p> - -<p> -"Through Vienna, I suppose," suggested Sir Charles with an impassive -face. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't think so, sir," said Cosmo frankly. "I don't care much for the -work which is going on there and perhaps still less for the men who are -putting their hands to it." -</p> - -<p> -This time Sir Charles's slow nod expressed complete agreement. He too -had no liking for the work that was about to begin there. But no -objection could be raised against Italy. He had known Italy well thirty -or more years ago, but it must have been changed out of his knowledge. -He remained silent, gazing at the wide landscape of blue wooded rises -and dark hollows under the gorgeous colours of the sunset. They began to -die out. -</p> - -<p> -"You may travel far before you see anything like this," he observed to -his son. "And don't be in a hurry to leave us. You have only just come -home. Remember I am well over sixty." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo was quite ready to surrender himself to the peace of his Yorkshire -home, so different from the strenuous atmosphere of the last campaign in -the South of France. Autumn was well advanced before he fixed the day -for his departure. On his last day at home Sir Charles addressed him -with perfect calmness. -</p> - -<p> -"When you pass into Italy you must not fail to see my old friend the -Marquis d'Armand. The French King has appointed him as ambassador in -Turin. It's a sign of high favour, I believe. He will be either in Turin -or Genoa. . . ." Sir Charles paused, then after a perfectly audible sigh -added with an effort: "The Marquise is dead. I knew her in her youth. -She was a marvellous woman. . . ." Sir Charles checked himself, and then -with another effort, "But the daughter of my old friend is I believe -with her father now, a married daughter, the Countess of Montevesso." -</p> - -<p> -"You mean little Adèle, sir," said Cosmo, with interest, but on Sir -Charles's face there passed a distinct shade of distress. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, you remember the child," he said, and his tone was tender but it -changed to contempt as he went on. "I don't know whether the fellow, I -mean the man she married, is staying with them or whether they are -living with him, or whether . . . I know nothing!" -</p> - -<p> -The word "upstart," heard many years ago from his sister Henrietta, -crossed Cosmo's mind. He thought to himself, "There is something wrong -there," and to his father he said, "I will be able to tell you all about -it." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't want to know," Sir Charles replied with a surprising solemnity -of tone and manner which hid some deeper feeling. "But give the Marquis -my love and tell him that when he gets tired of all his grandeurs he may -remember that there is a large place for him in this house as long as I -live." -</p> - -<p> -Late that evening Cosmo, saying good-bye to his sister, took her in his -arms, kissed her forehead, and holding her out at arm's length said: -</p> - -<p> -"You have grown into a charming girl, Henrietta." -</p> - -<p> -"I am glad you think so," she said. "Alas, I am too dark. I can never be -as charming as Adèle must have been at my age. You seem to have -forgotten her." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh no," protested Cosmo carelessly. "A marvel of fairness, wasn't she? -I remember you telling me years ago that she married an upstart." -</p> - -<p> -"That was Father's expression. You know what that means, Cosmo." -</p> - -<p> -"I do know what it means, exactly," he said, laughing. "But from what -Father said this afternoon it seems as if he were a rather nasty -upstart. What made Adèle do it?" -</p> - -<p> -"I am awed," confessed Henrietta. "I don't know what made her do it. I -was never told. Father never talked much about the D'Armands afterwards. -I was with him in the yellow drawing room the evening he got the letter -from the Marquis. After he read it he said something very extraordinary. -You know it's full nine years ago and I was yet a child, yet I could not -have dreamed it. I heard it distinctly. He dropped his hands and said, -'Austerlitz has done it.' What could he have meant?" -</p> - -<p> -"It would be hard to guess the connection," said Cosmo, smiling at his -sister's puzzled face. "Father must have been thinking of something -else." -</p> - -<p> -"Father was thinking of nothing else for days," affirmed Henrietta -positively. -</p> - -<p> -"You must have been a very observant child," remarked her brother. "But -I believe you were always a clever girl, Henrietta. Well, I am going to -see Adèle." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh yes, you start in the morning to travel ever so far and for ever so -long," said Miss Latham enviously. "Oh Cosmo, you are going to write to -me—lots?" -</p> - -<p> -He looked at her appreciatively and gave her another brotherly hug. -</p> - -<p> -"Certainly I will write, whole reams," he said. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>IV</h4> - -<p> -On his way from the harbour to the upper part of the town where his inn -was situated Cosmo Latham met very few people. He had to pass through a -sort of covered way; its arch yawned in front of him very black with -only a feeble glimmer of a light in its depths. It did not occur to him -that it was a place where one could very well be knocked on the head by -evil-intentioned men if there were any prowling about in that early part -of the evening, for it was early yet, though the last gleams of sunset -had gone out completely off the earth and out of the sky. On issuing -from the dark passage a maze of narrow streets presented itself to his -choice, but he knew that as long as he kept walking uphill he could not -fail to reach the middle of the town. Projecting at long intervals from -the continuous mass of thick walls, wrought-iron arms held lanterns -containing dim gleams of light. The enormous doors of the lofty gateways -he passed were closed, and the only sound he could hear was that of his -own deliberate footsteps. At a wider spot where several of those lanes -met he stopped, and looking about him asked himself whether all those -enormous and palatial houses were empty, or whether it was the thickness -of walls that killed all the signs of life within; for as to the -population being already asleep he could not believe it for a moment. -All at once he caught sight of a muffled feminine form. In the heavy -shadow she seemed to emerge out of one wall and gliding on seemed to -disappear into another. It was undoubtedly a woman. Cosmo was startled -by this noiseless apparition and had a momentary feeling of being lost -in an enchanted city. Presently the enchanted silence was broken by the -increasing sound of an iron-shod stick tapping the flagstones, till -there walked out of one of the dark and tortuous lanes a man who by his -rolling gait, general outline, and the characteristic shape of the hat, -Cosmo could not doubt, was a seaman belonging to the English man-of-war -in the harbour. The tapping of his stick ceased suddenly and Cosmo -hailed him in English, asking for the way. -</p> - -<p> -The sturdy figure in the tarpaulin hat put its cudgel under its arm and -answered him in a deep pleasant voice. Yes, he knew the inn. He was just -coming from there. If His Honour followed the street before him he would -come to a large open space and His Honour's inn would be across the -square. In the deep shadows Cosmo could make out of the seaman's face -nothing but the bushy whiskers and the gleam of the eyes. He was pleased -at meeting the very day he had reached the Mediterranean shore (he had -come down to Genoa from Turin) such a fine specimen of a man-of-war's -man. He thanked him for the direction and the sailor, touching his hat, -went off at his slightly rolling gait. Cosmo observed that he took a -turning very near the spot where the muffled woman had a moment before -vanished from his sight. It was a very dark and a very narrow passage -between two towering buildings. Cosmo, continuing on his way, arrived at -a broad thoroughfare badly lighted but full of people. He knew where he -was then. In a very few moments he found himself at the door of his inn -in a great square which in comparison with the rest of the town might -have been said to blaze with lights. -</p> - -<p> -Under an iron lantern swung above a flight of three broad steps, Cosmo -recognized his servant gazing into the square with a worried expression -which changed at once into one of relief on perceiving his master. He -touched his cap and followed Cosmo into a large hall with several doors -opening into it and furnished with many wooden chairs and tables. At one -of them bearing four candlesticks several British naval officers sat -talking and laughing in subdued tones. A compactly built clean-shaven -person with slightly sunken cheeks, wearing black breeches and a maroon -waistcoat with sleeves, but displaying a very elaborate frill to his -white shirt, stood in the middle of the floor, glancing about with -vigilance, and bowed hurriedly to his latest client. Cosmo returned the -greeting of Signor Cantelucci, who, snatching up the nearest -candlestick, began to ascend a broad stone staircase with an air of -performing a solemn duty. Cosmo followed him, and Cosmo's servant -followed his master. They went up and up. At every flight broad archways -gave a view of dark perspective in which nothing but a few drops of dim -fire were forlornly visible. At last Signor Cantelucci threw open a door -on a landing and bowing again: -</p> - -<p> -"See, milord! There is a fire. I know the customs and habits of the -English." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo stepped into a large and lofty room where in the play of bright -flames under a heavy and tall mantelpiece the shadows seemed very much -disturbed by his entrance. Cosmo approached the blaze with satisfaction. -</p> - -<p> -"I had enough trouble to get them to light it," remarked the valet in a -resentful tone. "If it hadn't been for a jack-tar with big whiskers I -found down in the hall it wouldn't be done yet. He came up from the ship -with one of these sea officers downstairs. He drove the fellows with the -wood in fine style up here for me. He knows the people here. He cursed -them each separately by their Christian names, and then had a glass of -wine in the kitchen with me." -</p> - -<p> -Meantime Signor Cantelucci, wearing the aspect of a deaf man, had -lighted, on two separate tables, two clusters of candles which drove the -restless gloom of the large apartment half way up to the ceiling, and -retired with noiseless footsteps. He stopped in the doorway to cast a -keen glance at the master and the man standing by the fire. Those two -turned their heads only at the sound of the closing door. -</p> - -<p> -"I couldn't think what became of you, sir. I was getting quite worried -about you. You disappeared without saying anything to me." -</p> - -<p> -"I went for a walk down to the sea," said Cosmo while the man moved off -to where several cowhide trunks were ranged against the wall. "I like to -take a look round on arriving at a new place." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir; but when it got dark I wondered." -</p> - -<p> -"I tarried on a tower to watch the sunset," murmured Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"I have been doing some unpacking," said the servant, "but not knowing -how long you mean to stay . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"It may be a long stay." -</p> - -<p> -"Then I will go on, sir; that is if you are going to keep this room." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. The room will do. Spire. It's big enough." -</p> - -<p> -Spire took up one of the two candelabras and retired into the -neighbourhood of a sort of state bed heavily draped at the other end of -the room. There, throwing open the trunks and the doors of closets, he -busied himself systematically, without noise, till he heard the quiet -voice of his young master. -</p> - -<p> -"Spire." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir," he answered, standing still with a pile of shirts on his -arm. -</p> - -<p> -"Is this inn very full?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, very," said Spire. "The whole town is full of travellers and -people from the country. A lot of our nobility and gentry are passing -this way." -</p> - -<p> -He deposited the shirts on a shelf in the depths of the wall and turned -round again. -</p> - -<p> -"Have you heard any names, Spire?" -</p> - -<p> -Spire stooped over a trunk and lifted up from it carefully a lot of -white neckcloths folded neatly one within the other. -</p> - -<p> -"I haven't had much time yet, sir. I heard a few." -</p> - -<p> -He laid down the neckcloths by the side of the shirts while Cosmo, with -his elbow on the mantelpiece, asked down the whole length of the room: -</p> - -<p> -"Anybody I know?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not in this place, sir. There is generally a party of officers from the -man-of-war staying here. They come and go. I have seen some Italian -gentlemen in square-cut coats and powdered hair. Very old-fashioned, -sir. There are some Austrians too, I think; but I haven't seen any -ladies. . . . I am afraid, sir, this isn't the right sort of inn. There -is another about a hundred yards from here on the other side of the -square." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't want to meet anybody I know," said Cosmo Latham in a low voice. -</p> - -<p> -Spire thought that this would make his stay in Genoa very dull. At the -same time he was convinced that his young master would alter his mind -before very long and change to that other inn patronized by travellers -of fashion. For himself he was not averse from a little quiet time. -Spire was no longer young. Thirty years ago, before the War and before -the Revolution, he had travelled with Sir Charles in France and Italy. -He was then only eighteen, but being a steady and trustworthy lad was -taken abroad to look after the horses. Sir Charles kept four horses in -Florence, and Spire had often ridden on Tuscan roads behind Sir Charles -and the two Misses Aston, of whom one later became Lady Latham. After -the family settled in Yorkshire he passed from the stables to the house, -acquired a confidential position, and whenever Lady Latham took a -journey he sat in the rumble with a pair of double-barrelled pistols in -the pockets of his greatcoat and ordered all things on the road. Later -he became intermediary between Sir Charles and the stables, the gardens, -and in all out-of-door things about the house. He attended Lady Latham -on her very last drive, all the details for that lady's funeral having -been left to his management. He was also a very good valet. He had been -called one evening into the library where Sir Charles, very gouty that -day, leaning with one hand on a thick stick and with the other on the -edge of a table, had said to him: "I am lending you to Mr. Cosmo for his -travels in France and Italy. You will know your way about. And mind you -draw the charges of the pistols in the carriage every morning and load -them afresh." -</p> - -<p> -Spire was then requested to help Sir Charles up the stairs and had a few -more words said to him when Sir Charles stopped at the door of his -bedroom. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Cosmo has plenty of sense. You are not to make yourself a nuisance -to him." -</p> - -<p> -"No, Sir Charles," said the imperturbable Spire. "I will know how to -look after Mr. Cosmo." -</p> - -<p> -And if he had been asked. Spire would have been able to say that during -the stay in Paris and all through France and Switzerland on the way to -Genoa Mr. Cosmo had given him no trouble at all. -</p> - -<p> -Spire, still busy unpacking, glanced at his young master. He certainly -looked very quiet now, leaning on his elbow with the firelight playing -from below on his young thoughtful face with its smooth and pale -complexion. "Very good-looking indeed," thought Spire. In that -thoughtful mood he recalled very much the Sir Charles of thirty or -thirty-five years ago. Would he too find his wife abroad? There had been -women enough in Paris of every kind and degree, English and French and -all sorts. But it was a fact that Mr. Cosmo sought most of his company -amongst men, of whom also there had been no lack and of every degree. In -that, too, the young man resembled very much his father. Men's company. -But were he to get caught he would get caught properly; at any rate for -a time, reflected Spire, remembering Sir Charles Latham's rush back to -Italy, the inwardness of which had been no more revealed to him than to -the rest of the world. -</p> - -<p> -Spire, approaching the candelabra, unfolded partly a very fine coat, -then refolded it before putting it away on a convenient shelf. He had a -moment of regret for his own young days. He had never married, not -because there had been any lack of women to set their caps at him, but -from a sort of half-conscious prudence. Moreover, he had a notion -somehow or other that Sir Charles would not have liked it. Perhaps it -was just as well. Now he was carefree, attending on Mr. Cosmo without -troubling his head about who had remained at home. -</p> - -<p> -Spire, arranging the contents of a dressing case on the table, cast -another sidelong look at the figure by the fire. Very handsome. -Something like Sir Charles and yet not like. There was a touch of -something unusual, perhaps foreign, and yet no one with a pair of eyes -in his head could mistake Mr. Cosmo for anything but an English -gentleman. -</p> - -<p> -Spire's memories of his tour with Sir Charles had been growing dim. But -he remembered enough of the old-time atmosphere to have become aware of -a feeling of tension, of a suggestion of restlessness which certainly -was new to him. -</p> - -<p> -The silence had lasted very long. Cosmo before the fire had not moved. -Spire ventured on a remark. -</p> - -<p> -"I notice people are excited about one thing and another hereabouts, -sir." -</p> - -<p> -"Excited. I don't wonder at it. In what way?" -</p> - -<p> -"Sort of discontented, sir. They don't like the Austrians, sir. You may -have noticed as we came along . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"Did they like us when we held the town?" -</p> - -<p> -"I can hardly say that, sir. I have been sitting for an hour or more in -the couriers' room, with all sorts of people coming in and out, and -heard very wild sort of talk." -</p> - -<p> -"What can you know about its wildness?" -</p> - -<p> -"To look at their faces was enough. It's a funny place, that room -downstairs," went on Spire, rubbing with a piece of silk a travelling -looking-glass mounted cunningly in a silver case which when opened made -a stand for it. He placed it exactly in the middle of a little table and -turned round to look at his master. Seeing that Cosmo seemed disposed to -listen he continued: "It is vaulted like a cellar and has a little door -giving into a side street. People come in and put as they like. All -sorts of low people, sir, <i>facchini</i> and carters and boatmen and -suchlike. There was an old fellow came in, a gray-headed man, a cobbler, -I suppose, as he brought a bagful of mended shoes for the servants of -the house. He emptied the lot on the stone floor, sir, and instead of -trying to collect his money from the people that were scrambling for -them he made them a speech. He spouted, sir, without drawing a breath. -The courier-valet of an English doctor staying here, a Swiss I think he -is, says to me in his broken English: 'He would cut every Austrian -throat in this town.' We were having a glass of wine together and I -asked him, 'And what do you think of that?' And he says to me, after -thinking a bit, 'I agree with him. . . .' Very dreadful, sir," concluded -Spire with a perfectly unmoved face. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo looked at him in silence for a time. "It was very bold talk if -that is what the man really said," he remarked. "Especially as the place -is so public as you say it is." -</p> - -<p> -"Absolutely open to the street, sir; and that same Swiss fellow had told -me just before that the town was full of spies and what they call -<i>sbirri</i> that came from Turin with the King. The King is staying at -the Palace, sir. They are expecting the Queen of Sardinia to arrive any -day. You didn't know, sir? They say she will come in an English -man-of-war. That old cobbler was very abusive about the King of Piedmont -too. Surely talk like that can't be safe anywhere." -</p> - -<p> -Spire paused suddenly and Cosmo Latham turned his back to the fire. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, and what happened?" he asked with a smile. -</p> - -<p> -"You could have heard a pin drop," said Spire in equable tones, "till -that Signor Cantelucci—that's the padrone of this inn, sir . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"The man who lighted me up?" said Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir. . . . I didn't know he was in the room till suddenly he spoke -behind my back telling one of the scullions that was there to give the -man a glass of wine. And what the old fellow must do but raise it above -his head and shout a toast to the Destructor of the Austrians before he -tossed it down his throat. I was quite astonished, but Signor Cantelucci -never turned a hair. He offered his snuffbox to that doctor's courier -and myself and shrugged his shoulders. 'It was only Pietro,' he said, 'a -little mad'—he tapped his forehead, you know, sir. The doctor's -courier sat there grinning. I got suddenly uneasy about you, sir, and went -out to the front door to see whether you were coming. It's very different -from what it was thirty years ago. There was no talk in Italy of cutting -foreigners' throats when Sir Charles and I were here. It was quite a -startling experience." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo nodded. "You seem impressed. Spire. Well, I too had an experience, -just as the sun was setting." -</p> - -<p> -"I am sorry to hear that, sir." -</p> - -<p> -"What do you mean? Why should you be sorry?" -</p> - -<p> -"I beg your pardon, sir, I thought it was something unpleasant." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo had a little laugh. "Unpleasant? No! Not exactly, though I think -it was more dangerous than yours, but if there was any madness connected -with it, it had a very visible method. It was not all talk either. Yes, -Spire, it was exciting." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know what's come to them all. Everybody seems excited. There -was not excitement in Italy thirty years ago when I was with Sir Charles -and took four horses with only one helper from this very town to -Florence, sir." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo with fixed eyes did not seem to hear Spire's complaining remark. -He exclaimed: "Really it was very extraordinary," so suddenly that Spire -gave a perceptible start. He pulled himself together and asked in a -purely business tone: -</p> - -<p> -"Are you going to dine in your room, sir? Time is getting on." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo's mood too seemed to have changed completely. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know. I am not hungry. I want you to move one of those screens -here near the fire and place a table and chair there. I will do some -correspondence to-night. Yes, I will have my dinner here, I think." -</p> - -<p> -"I will go down and order it, sir," said Spire. "The cook here is a -Frenchman who married a native and . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"Who on earth is swearing like this outside?" exclaimed Cosmo, while -Spire's face also expressed astonishment at the loud burst of voices -coming along the corridor, one angry, the other argumentative, in a -crescendo of scolding and expostulation which, passing the door at its -highest, died away into a confused murmur in the distance of the long -corridor. -</p> - -<p> -"That was an English voice," said Cosmo. "I mean the angry one." -</p> - -<p> -"I should think it's that English doctor from Tuscany that has been -three or four days here already. He has been put on this floor." -</p> - -<p> -"From what I have been able to catch," said Cosmo, "he seems very angry -at having a neighbour on it. That must be me. Have you heard his name?" -</p> - -<p> -"It's Marvel or some such name. He seems to be known here; he orders -people about as if he were at home. The other was Cantelucci, sir." -</p> - -<p> -"Very likely. Look here. Spire. I will dine in the public room -downstairs. I want to see that angry gentleman. Did you see him, Spire?" -</p> - -<p> -"Only his back, sir. Very broad, sir. Tall man. In boots and a riding -coat. Are you going down now, sir? The dinner must be on already." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Cosmo, preparing to go out. "And by the by. Spire, if you -ever see in the street or in that room downstairs, where everyone comes -in and out as you say, a long fellow wearing a peculiar cap with a -tassel, just try to find out something about him; or at any rate let me -know when you have seen him. . . . You could perhaps follow him for a -bit and try to see where he goes." -</p> - -<p> -After saying those words Cosmo left the room before Spire could make any -answer. Spire's astonishment expressed itself by a low exclamation, -"Well, I never!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="PART_II"></a>PART II</h4> - - -<h4>I</h4> - -<p> -Cosmo descended into a hall now empty and with most of its lights -extinguished. A loud murmur of voices guided him to the door of the -dining room. He discovered it to be a long apartment with flat pilasters -dividing its whitewashed walls, and resembling somewhat a convent's -refectory. The resemblance was accentuated by the two narrow tables -occupying its middle. One of them had been appropriated by the British -naval officers, had lights on it, and bristled with the necks of wine -bottles along its whole length. The talk round it was confused and -noisy. The other, shorter, table accommodated two rows of people in -sombre garments who at first glance struck Cosmo as natives of the town -and belonging to a lower station in life. They had less lights, less -wine, and almost no animation. Several smaller tables were ranged -against the walls at equal intervals, and Cosmo's eye was caught by one -of them because of the candles in the sconce on the wall above it having -been lighted. Its cloth was dazzlingly white, and Signor Cantelucci with -a napkin in his hand stood respectfully at the elbow of its sole -occupant, who was seated with his back to the door. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo was under the impression that his entrance had been unobserved. -But before he had walked half the length of the room Signor Cantelucci, -whose eyes had never ceased darting here and there while his body -preserved its deferential attitude at the elbow of the exclusive client, -advanced to meet him with his serious and attentive air. He bowed. -Perhaps the signore would not mind sharing the table of his illustrious -countryman. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, if my countryman doesn't object," assented Cosmo readily. He was -absolutely certain that this must be the doctor of whom Spire had -spoken. -</p> - -<p> -Cantelucci had no doubt that His Excellency's company would be most -welcome to his illustrious countryman. Then stepping aside, he added -under his breath: "He is a person of great distinction. A most valued -patron of mine. . . ." The person thus commended, turning his head -ensconced in the high collar of his coat, disclosed to Cosmo a round -face with a shaved chin, strongly marked eyebrows, round eyes, and thin -lips compressed into a slightly peevish droop which, however, was at -once corrected by an attempt at a faint smile. Cosmo, too, produced a -faint smile. For an appreciable moment they looked at each other without -saying a word while Cantelucci, silent too, executed a profound bow. -</p> - -<p> -"Sit down, sir, sit down," said the elder man (Cosmo judged him to be -well over forty), raising his voice above the uproar made by the -occupants of the naval table and waving his hand at the empty chair -facing his own. It had a high carved back showing some traces of -gilding, and the silk which covered it was worn to rags. Cosmo sat down -while Cantelucci disappeared and the man across the table positively -shouted, "I am glad," and immediately followed that declaration by an -energetic "Oh damn!" He bent over the table: "One can't hear oneself -speak with that noisy lot. All heroes, no doubt, but not a single -gentleman." -</p> - -<p> -He leaned back and waited till the outburst of noisy mirth had died out -at the officers' table. The corners of his mouth drooped again and Cosmo -came to the conclusion that face in repose was decidedly peevish. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know what they have got to be so merry about," the other began, -with a slight glance at the naval table and leaning forward again -towards Cosmo. "Their occupation is gone. Heroes are a thoughtless lot. -Yet just look at that elderly lieutenant at the head of the table. -Shabby coat. Old epaulette. He doesn't laugh. He will die a -lieutenant—on half pay. That's how heroic people end when the heroic -times are over." -</p> - -<p> -"I am glad," said Cosmo steadily, "that you recognize at least their -heroism." -</p> - -<p> -The other opened his mouth for some time before he laughed, and that -gave his face an expression of somewhat hard jollity. But the laugh when -it came was by no means loud and had a sort of ingratiating softness. -</p> - -<p> -"No, no. Don't think I am disparaging our sea service. I had the -privilege to know the greatest hero of them all. Yes, I had two talks -with Lord Nelson. Well, he was certainly not . . ." -</p> - -<p> -He interrupted himself and raising his eyes saw the perfectly still gaze -of Cosmo fastened on his face. Then peevishly: -</p> - -<p> -"What I meant to say was that he at least was indubitably a hero. I -remember that I was very careful about what I said to him. I had to be -mighty careful then about what I said to anybody. Someone might have put -it into his head to hang me at some yard-arm or other." -</p> - -<p> -"I envy your experience all the same," said Cosmo amiably. "I suppose -your conscience was clear?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have always been most careful not to give my conscience any license -to trouble me," retorted the other with a certain curtness of tone which -was not offensive; "and I have lived now for some considerable time. I -am really much older than I look," he concluded, giving Cosmo such a -keen glance that the young man could not I help a smile. -</p> - -<p> -The other went on looking at him steadily for a while, then let his eyes -wander to a door in a distant part of the long room as if impatient for -the coming of the dinner. Then giving it up: -</p> - -<p> -"A man who has lived actively, actively I say, the last twenty years may -well feel as old as Methuselah. Lord Nelson was but a circumstance in my -life. I wonder, had he lived, how he would have taken all this." -</p> - -<p> -A slight movement of his hand seemed to carry this allusion outside the -confines of the vaulted noisy room, to indicate all the out-of-doors of -the world. Cosmo remarked that the hand was muscular, shapely, and -extremely well cared for. -</p> - -<p> -"I think there can be no doubt about the nature of his feelings if he -were living." Cosmo's voice was exactly non-committal. His interlocutor -grunted slightly. -</p> - -<p> -"H'm. He would have done nothing but groan and complain about anything -and everything. No, he wouldn't have taken it laughing. Very poor -physique. Very. Frightful hypochondriac. . . . I am a doctor, you know." -</p> - -<p> -Cantelucci was going to attend himself on his two guests. He presented -to the doctor a smoking soup tureen enveloped in a napkin. The doctor -assumed at once a business-like air, and at his invitation Cosmo held -out his plate. The doctor helped him carefully. -</p> - -<p> -"Don't forget the wine, my wine, Anzelmo," he said to Cantelucci, who -answered by a profound bow. "I saved his life once," he continued after -the innkeeper had gone away. -</p> - -<p> -The tone was particularly significant. Cosmo, partly repelled and partly -amused by the man, enquired whether the worthy host had been very ill. -The doctor swallowed the last spoonful of soup. -</p> - -<p> -"Ill," he said. "He had a gash that long in his side and a set of -forty-pound fetters in his legs. I cured both complaints. Not without -some risk to myself, as you may imagine. There was an epidemic of -hanging and shooting in the South of Italy then." -</p> - -<p> -He noticed Cosmo's steady stare and raised the corners of his mouth with -an effect of geniality on his broad rosy face. -</p> - -<p> -"In '99, you know. I wonder I didn't die of it too. I was considerably -younger then and my humane instincts, early enthusiasms, and so on had -led me into pretty bad company. However, I had also pretty good friends. -What with one thing and another I am pretty well known all over Italy. -My name is Martel—Doctor Martel. You probably may have heard. . . ." -</p> - -<p> -He threw a searching glance at Cosmo, who bowed non-committally, and went -on without a pause: "I am the man who brought vaccine to Italy, first. -Cantelucci was trying to tell me your name but really I couldn't make it -out." -</p> - -<p> -"Latham is my name," said Cosmo, "and I only set foot in Italy for the -first time in my life two days ago." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor jerked his head sideways. -</p> - -<p> -"Latham, eh? Yorkshire?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Cosmo, smiling. -</p> - -<p> -"To be sure. Sir Charles . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"That's my father." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes. Served in the Guards. I used to know the doctor of his -regiment. Married in Italy. I don't remember the lady's name. Oh, those -are old times. Might have been a hundred years ago." -</p> - -<p> -"You mean that so much history has been made since." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, no end of history," assented the doctor, but checked himself. "And -yet, tell me, what does it all amount to?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo made no answer. Cantelucci having brought the wine while they -talked, the doctor-filled two glasses, waited a moment as if to hear -Cosmo speak, but as the young man remained silent he said: -</p> - -<p> -"Well, let us drink then to Peace." -</p> - -<p> -He tossed the wine down his throat while Cosmo drank his much more -leisurely. As they set down their empty glasses they were startled by a -roar of a tremendous voice filling the vaulted room from end to end in -order to "let Their Honours know that the boat was at the steps." The -doctor made a faint grimace. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you hear the voice of the British lion, Mr. Latham?" he asked -peevishly. "Ah, well, we will have some little peace now here." -</p> - -<p> -Those officers at the naval table who had to go on board rose in a body -and left the room hastily. Three or four who had a longer leave drew -close together and began to talk low with their heads in a bunch. Cosmo -glancing down the room seemed to recognize at the door the form of the -seaman whom he had met earlier in the evening. He followed the officers -out. The other diners, the sombre ones, and a good many of them with -powdered heads, were also leaving the room. Cantelucci put another dish -on the table, stepped back a pace with a bow, and stood still. A moment -of profound silence succeeded the noise. -</p> - -<p> -"First rate," said Doctor Martel to Cosmo, after tasting the dish, and -then gave a nod to Cantelucci, who made another bow and retreated -backwards, always with a solemn expression on his face. -</p> - -<p> -"Italian cooking, of course, but then I am an old Italian myself. Not -that I love them, but I have acquired many of their tastes. Before we -have done dining you will have tasted the perfection of their cookery, -north and south, but I assure you are sharing my dinner. You don't -suppose that the dishes that come to this table are the same the common -customers get." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo made a slight bow. "I am very sensible of the privilege," he said. -</p> - -<p> -"The honour and the pleasure are mine, I assure you," the doctor said in -a half-careless tone and looking with distaste towards the small knot of -officers with a twenty-four hours' leave who had finished their -confabulation and had risen in a body like men who had agreed on some -pleasant course of action. Only the elderly lieutenant lagging a little -behind cast a glance at his two countrymen at the little table and -followed his comrades with less eager movements. -</p> - -<p> -"A quarter of a tough bullock or half a roast sheep are more in their -way, and Cantelucci knows it. As to that company that was sitting at the -other table, well, I daresay you can tell yourself what they were, small -officials or tradesmen of some sort. I should think that emptying all their -pockets—and they were how many, say twenty—you couldn't collect -the value of one English pound at any given time. And Cantelucci knows -that too. Well, of course. Still he does well here, but it's a poor -place. I wonder, Mr. Latham, what are you doing here?" -</p> - -<p> -"Well," said Cosmo with a good-humoured smile, "I am just staying here. -Just as you yourself are staying here." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, but you never saved Cantelucci's life, whereas I did and that's the -reason why I am staying here: out of mere kindness and to give him an -opportunity to show his gratitude. . . . Let me fill your glass. Not -bad, this wine." -</p> - -<p> -"Excellent. What is it?" -</p> - -<p> -"God knows. Let us call it Cantelucci's gratitude. Generous stuff, this, -to wash down those dishes with. Gluttony is an odious vice, but an -ambition to dine well is about the only one which can be indulged at no -cost to one's fellow men." -</p> - -<p> -"It didn't strike me," murmured Cosmo absently, for he was just then -asking himself why he didn't like this pleasant companion, and had just -come to the conclusion that it was because of his indecisive expression -wavering between peevishness and jocularity with something else in -addition, as it were, in the background of his handsome, neat, and -comfortable person. Something that was not aggressive nor yet exactly -impudent. He wondered at his mistrust of the personality which certainly -was very communicative but apparently not inquisitive. At that moment he -heard himself addressed with a direct inquiry. -</p> - -<p> -"You passed, of course, through Paris?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, and Switzerland." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, Paris. I wonder what it looks like now. Full of English people, of -course. Let's see, how many years is it since I was last there? Ha, lots -of heads rolled off very noble shoulders since. Well, I am trying to -make my way there. Curious times. I have found some letters here. Duke -of Wellington very much disliked, what? His nod is insupportable, eh?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have just had a sight of the Duke two or three times," said Cosmo. "I -can assure you that everybody is treating him with the greatest -respect." -</p> - -<p> -"Of course, of course. All the same I bet that all these foreigners are -chuckling to themselves at having finished the job without him." -</p> - -<p> -"They needn't be so pleased with themselves," said Cosmo scornfully. -"The mere weight of their numbers . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. It was more like a migration of armed tribes than an army. They -will boast of their success all the same. There is no saying what the -Duke himself thinks. . . . I wonder if he could have beaten the other in -a fair fight. Well, that will never be known now." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo had a sudden sense of an epical tale with a doubtful conclusion. -He made no answer. Cantelucci had come and gone solemnly, -self-contained, with the usual two ceremonial bows. As he retreated he -put out all the candles on the central table and became lost to view. -From the illuminated spot at which he sat, Cosmo's eyes met only the -shadows of the long refectory-like room with its lofty windows closely -shuttered so that they looked like a row of niches for statues. Yet the -murmur of the piazza full of people stole faintly into his ear. Cosmo -had the recollection of the vast expanse of flagstones enclosed by the -shadowy and palatial masses gleaming with lights here and there under -the night sky thick with stars and perfectly cloudless. -</p> - -<p> -"This is a very quiet inn," he observed. -</p> - -<p> -"It has that advantage certainly. The walls are fairly thick, as you can -see. It's an unfinished palace, I mean as to its internal decorations, -which were going to be very splendid and even more costly than splendid. -The owner of it, I mean the man who had it built, died of hunger in that -hall out there." -</p> - -<p> -"Died of hunger?" repeated Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"No doubt about it. It was during the siege of Genoa. You know the -siege, surely?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo recollected himself. "I was quite a child at the time," he said. -</p> - -<p> -The venerated client of Cantelucci cracked a walnut and then looked at -Cosmo's face. -</p> - -<p> -"I should think you weren't seven years old at the time," he said in a -judicial tone. "When I first came into Italy with the vaccine, you know, -Sir Charles's marriage was still being talked about in Florence. I -remember it perfectly though it seems as if it had all happened in -another world. Yes, indubitably he died of hunger like ten thousand -other Genoese. He couldn't go out to hunt for garbage with the populace -or crawl out at night trying to gather nettles in the ditches outside -the forts, and nobody would have known that he was dead for a month if -one of the bombs out of a bomb-vessel with Admiral Keith's blockading -squadron hadn't burst the door in. They found him at the foot of the -stairs, and, they say, with a lot of gold pieces in his pockets. But -nobody cared much for that. If it had been a lot of half-gnawed bones -there would have been blood spilt, no doubt. For all I know there were -or may be even now secret places full of gold in the thickness of these -walls. However, the body was thrown into a corpse-cart and the -authorities boarded the doorway. It remained boarded for years because -the heirs didn't care to have anything to do with that shell of a -palace. I fancy that the last of them died in the snows of Russia. -Cantelucci came along, and owing to a friendship with some sort of -scribe in the Municipality he got permission to use the place for his -hostelry. He told me that he found several half ducats in the corners of -the hall when he took possession. I suppose they paid for the whitewash, -for I can't believe that Cantelucci had much money in his pockets." -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps he found one of those secret hiding-places of which you spoke," -suggested Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"What? Cantelucci? He never looked for any gold. He is too much in the -clouds; but he has made us dine well in the palace of the starved man, -hasn't he? Sixteen years ago in Naples he was a Jacobin and a friend of -the French, a rebel, a traitor to his king if you like—but he has a -good memory, there is no denying that." -</p> - -<p> -"Is he a Neapolitan, then?" asked Cosmo. "I imagined they were of a -different type." -</p> - -<p> -"God only knows. He was there and I didn't ask him. He was a prisoner of -the royalists, of the reactionaries. I was much younger then and perhaps -more humane. Flesh and blood couldn't stand in the sight of the way in -which they were being treated, men of position, of attainments, of -intelligence. The Neapolitan Jacobins were no populace. They were men of -character and ideas, the pick of all classes. They were properly -liberals. Still they were called Jacobins and you may be surprised that -I, a professional man and an Englishman . . ." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo, looking up at the sudden pause, saw the doctor sitting with the -dull eyes and the expression of a man suddenly dissatisfied with -himself. Cosmo hastened to say that he himself was no friend of -reactionaries and in any case not conceited enough to judge the conduct -of men older than himself. Without a sign that he had heard a word of -that speech the doctor had a faint and peevish smile. He never moved at -all till, after a longish interval, Cosmo spoke again. -</p> - -<p> -"Were you expecting somebody that would want to see you this evening?" -he asked. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor started. -</p> - -<p> -"See me? No. Why do you ask?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because within the last five minutes somebody has put his head twice -through the door; and as I don't expect either a visitor or a messenger, -I thought he was looking for you. I don't know a single soul here." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor remained perfectly unmoved. Cosmo, who was looking towards -the distant door, saw the head again and this time shouted at it an -inquiry. Thereupon the owner of the head entered and had not advanced -half the length of the room before Cosmo recognized in him the portly -figure of Spire. To his great surprise, however. Spire instead of coming -up to the table made a vague gesture and stopped short. -</p> - -<p> -This was strange conduct. The doctor sat completely unconscious, and -Cosmo took the course of excusing himself and following Spire, who, -directly he had seen his master rise, had retreated rapidly to the door. -The doctor did not rouse himself to answer, and Cosmo left him leaning -on his elbow in a thoughtful attitude. In the badly lighted hall he -found Spire waiting for him between the foot of the stairs and the door -which Cosmo presumed was leading to the offices of the hotel. Again -Spire made a vague gesture which seemed to convey a warning, and -approached his master on tiptoe. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, what is it? What do you mean by flourishing your arm at me like -this?" asked Cosmo sharply, and Spire ventured on a warning "Ssh!" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, there is nobody here," said Cosmo, lowering his voice -nevertheless. -</p> - -<p> -"I wanted to tell you, sir, I have seen that fellow." -</p> - -<p> -"What fellow? Oh yes. The fellow with the cap. Where did you see him?" -</p> - -<p> -"He is here," said Spire, pointing to the closed door. -</p> - -<p> -"Here? What could a man like that want here? Did you speak to him?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, sir, he has just come in and for all I know he may be already gone -away—though I don't think so." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, you don't think so. Do you know what he has come for?" -</p> - -<p> -Spire made no answer to the question, but after a short silence: "I will -go and see, and if you stand where you are, sir, you will be able to -look right into the room. He may not be the man." -</p> - -<p> -Without waiting for an answer he moved towards the closed door and threw -it wide open. The room, very much like the dining room but smaller, was -lighted gloomily by two smoky oil lamps hanging from the ceiling, over a -trestle table having a wooden bench on each side. Bad as the light was -Cosmo made out at once the peculiar cap. The wearer, sitting on one of -the benches, was leaning with both elbows across the table towards the -fair head of a girl half-hidden by a lace scarf. They were engaged in -earnest conversation so that they never turned their heads at Spire's -entrance. Cosmo had just time to discern the fine line of the girl's -shoulders, which were half-tinned from him when Spire shut the door. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>II</h4> - -<p> -Returning to his bedroom, Cosmo found the fire of logs still playing -fitfully upon the drawn curtains, upon the dim shape of the canopied bed -of state, and perceived that Spire as directed had prepared the writing -table and had placed a screen round the inviting-looking armchair. -</p> - -<p> -He did not sit down to write. He felt more than ever that in a moment of -amused expansion he had made a rash promise to his sister. The -difficulty in keeping it had confronted him for the first time in Paris. -Henrietta would have liked to hear of people he met, of the great world -indulging in the new-found freedom of travel, the English, the French, -the Poles, the Germans. Certainly he had seen quite a lot of people; but -the problem was as to what could be said about them to a young girl, -ignorant of the world, brought up in the country, and having really no -notion of what mankind was like. He admitted to himself with -introspective sincerity that even he did not exactly know what mankind -was really like. He was too much of a novice, and she, obviously, was -too innocent to be told of his suspicions and of what it was like. Even to -describe the world outwardly was not an easy task—to Henrietta. The -world was certainly amusing. Oh yes, it was amusing; but even as he -thought that, he felt within him a certain distaste. Just before he had -left Paris he had been at a rout given by a great lady. There was a -fellow there who somehow became suspected of picking pockets. He was -extremely ugly and therefore attracted notice. The great lady, asked if -she had invited him, denied ever having seen him before, but he assured -her that he had spoken to her already that evening. Her Ladyship then -declared that if he was really the man he gave himself out to be, she -was not aware that he was in Paris. She imagined him to be in Ireland. -Altogether a peculiar story. Cosmo never knew how it had ended because -his friend Hollis led him away to introduce him to Mrs. R., who was most -affable and entertained him with a complete inventory of her daughter's -accomplishments, the daughter herself being then in the room, obviously -quite lovely and clever, but certainly a little odd; for a little later, -on his being introduced, she had discoursed to him for half an hour on -things of the heart, charmingly, but in a perfectly cool and detached -manner. There was also Lady Jane, very much in evidence, very much run -after, with a voice of engaging sweetness, but very free, not to say -licentious, in her talk. How could he confide his impressions of her to -Henrietta? As a matter of fact his head had been rather full of Lady -Jane for some time. She had, so to speak, attended him all the way from -Paris up to the morning of his arrival at Cantelucci's inn. But she had -now deserted him. Or was it his mind that had dropped her out of a -haunting actuality into that region where the jumble of one's -experiences is allowed to rest? But was it possible that a shabby fellow -in tight breeches and bad boots, with a peculiarly shaped cap on his -head, could have got between him and Lady Jane about the time of sunset? -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo thought suddenly that one's personal life was a very bizarre -thing. He could write to his sister that before he had been three hours -in Genoa he had been involved in passing secret correspondence from -Italy to the Island of Elba. Henrietta had solemnly charged him to write -everything he could find out, hear, or even guess about Napoleon. He had -heard certainly a lot of most extraordinary stories; and if he had not -made any guesses he had been associating with persons who actually had -been doing nothing else; frightened persons, exulting people, cast-down -people, frivolous people, people with airs of mystery or with airs of -contempt. But by Jove, now he had been in personal touch and had -actually helped a man of the people who was mysteriously corresponding -with Elba. He could write something about that but, after all, was it -worth while? Finally he concluded he wouldn't write home at all that -evening; pushed the table away, and throwing himself into the armchair -extended his legs towards the fire. A moody expression settled on his -face. His immobility resembled open-eyed sleep with the red spark of the -fire in his unwinking eyes, and a perfect insensibility to outward -impressions. But he heard distinctly Spire knocking discreetly at the -door. Cosmo's first impulse was to shout that he wasn't wanted, but he -changed his mind. "Come in." -</p> - -<p> -Spire shut the door carefully, and crossing the room at once put a log -on the fire. Then he said: -</p> - -<p> -"Can't get any hot water this evening, sir. Very sorry, sir. I will see -that it won't happen again." -</p> - -<p> -At the same time he thought, "Served him right for picking out such an -inn to stay at." Cosmo, still silent, stared at the fire, and when he -roused himself at last he perceived Spire in the act of putting down in -front of his chair a pair of slippers of shiny leather and red heels. -</p> - -<p> -"Take your boots off, sir?" suggested Spire under his breath. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo let him do it. "Going to bed now, sir?" asked Spire in the same -subdued tone. -</p> - -<p> -"No, but you needn't wait. I won't need you any more to-night." -</p> - -<p> -"Thank you, sir." Spire lingered, boots in hand. "The two small pistols -are on the bedside table, sir. I have looked to the primings. This town -is lull of rabble from all parts just now, so I hear. The lock of your -door is fairly poor. I shall be sleeping just outside in the corridor, -sir. They are going to put me a pallet there." -</p> - -<p> -"You will be very cold," protested Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"It will be all right, sir. I have got the fur rug out of the carriage. -I had everything taken out of the carriage. The yard isn't safe, sir. -Nothing is properly safe in this house, so far as I can see." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo nodded absent-mindedly. "Oh, wait a moment, Spire. That man, that -fellow in the cap, is he still downstairs?" -</p> - -<p> -Spire thought rapidly that he wouldn't be a party to bringing any of -those ragamuffins up to the bedroom. "Gone a long time ago, sir," he -said stolidly. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo had a vivid recollection of the man's pose of being settled for an -earnest and absorbing conversation to last half the night. -</p> - -<p> -"He doesn't belong to this house?" he asked. -</p> - -<p> -"No, sir, he only came to talk to a young woman. I left him taking leave -of her to come up to you, sir. I suppose he was the man you meant, sir." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Cosmo, "I have no doubt about it. He will probably turn up -again." -</p> - -<p> -Spire admitted reluctantly that it was likely. He had been telling a -long tale to that young woman. "She is very good-looking, sir." -</p> - -<p> -"Is she a servant here?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh no, sir. She came in with that old cut-throat cobbler. They seem to -be friendly. I don't like the looks of the people in this house." -</p> - -<p> -"I wonder," said Cosmo, "whether you could manage to obtain for me a -quiet talk with that man on the next occasion he comes here." -</p> - -<p> -Spire received this overture in profound silence. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you think you could?" insisted Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -A dispassionate raising of the eyebrows preceded the apparently -irrelevant remark. "The worst of this house, sir, is that it seems open -to all sorts of rabble." -</p> - -<p> -"I see. Well, try to think of some way. Spire. You may go now." -</p> - -<p> -Spire, carrying the boots, walked as far as the door, where he turned -for a moment. "The only way I can think of, sir," he said, "would be to -make friends with that young woman." Before Cosmo could recover from the -surprise at the positive statement Spire had gone out and had shut the -door. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo slept heavily but fitfully, with moments of complete oblivion -interrupted by sudden starts, when he would lie on his back with open -eyes, wondering for a moment where he was, and then fall asleep again -before he had time to make a movement. In the morning the first thing he -did was to scribble a note to the Countess Montevesso to ask her -permission to call that very morning. While writing the address he -smiled to himself at the idea that it was after all the little Adèle -whom he remembered but dimly, mostly as a fair head hovering near his -father's armchair in the big drawing room, the windows of which opened -on the western terrace. As a schoolboy during his holidays he saw the -two girls, Adèle and his sister, mostly in the evening. He had his own -out-of-door pursuits while those girls stayed upstairs with their -governess. Remembering how he used to catch glimpses of them, the fair -and the dark, walking in the Park, he felt a greater curiosity to see -the Countess de Montevesso than if he had never seen her before. He -found it impossible to represent her to himself grown up, married for -years, the daughter of an ambassador. -</p> - -<p> -When the family of D'Armand departed from Latham Hall, it was as if a -picture had faded, a picture of faces, attitudes, and colours, leaving -untouched the familiar background of his Yorkshire home, on to which he -could never recall them distinctly. He would be meeting a complete -stranger and he wondered whether that lady, who, young as she still was, -had lived through tragic times and had seen so many people, would -remember him at all. Him personally. For as to his home he had no doubt -she had not forgotten; neither the stones, nor the woods, nor the -streams. And as to the people Cosmo had a distinct notion that she was -more familiar with his father than he and Henrietta ever had been. His -father was not a man whom anybody could forget. And that Countess of -Montevesso, more difficult for him to imagine than a complete stranger, -would remember his mother better than he could himself. She had seen so -much more of her day after day for something like three years; whereas -he was at home only at intervals and while there took Lady Latham for -granted, a kind, serene presence, beautifully dressed. -</p> - -<p> -He handed the note to Spire with orders to send it off by one of the -ragged idlers about the hotel door. There would be an answer. Then, -approaching the window, he perceived that he could not see very much out -of it. It was too high above the piazza, which furthermore was masked by -the jutting balconies. But the sky was blue with a peculiar deep -brilliance and the sunlight slanted over the roofs of the houses on the -other side of the piazza. When he opened the window the keen pure air -roused his vitality. The faint murmur of voices from below reached him -very much as it had reached him downstairs the night before through the -closed shutters of the dining room, as if the population of the town had -never gone to bed. -</p> - -<p> -While Spire was serving his breakfast in his room he wondered what the -Countess of Montevesso would look like. The same fair head but higher -above the ground and with the hair no longer flowing over the shoulders, -but done up no doubt most becomingly and perhaps turned darker with age. -It would be the hair of the daughter of an ambassador, able to judge of -men and affairs, a woman of position, a very fine lady. Perhaps just a -fine lady; but the memory of the child came to him with renewed force, -gracious, quiet, with something timid and yet friendly in all its -gestures, with his father's hand smoothing the fair hair. . . . No. Not -merely a fine lady. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo had no inborn aptitude for mere society life. Though not exactly -shy, he lacked that assurance of manner which his good looks and his -social status ought to have given him. He suspected there was too much -mockery in the world, and the undoubted friendliness he had met with, -especially from women, seemed to him always a little suspect, the effect -not of his own merit, of which he had no idea, but of a shallow, -good-natured compassion. He imagined himself awkward in company. The -very brilliance of the entertainments, of which he had seen already a -good many, was apt to depress his spirits. Often during talk with some -pretty woman he would feel that he was not meant for that sort of life, -and then suddenly he would withdraw into his shell. In that way he had -earned for himself the reputation of being a little strange. He was to a -certain extent aware of it, but he was not aware that this very thing -made him interesting. -</p> - -<p> -A gust of diffidence came over him while he was trying to eat some -breakfast. "I really don't want to see that Countess," he thought. Then -remembering the intonation in his father's voice when talking of Adèle, -he wondered whether perchance he would find an uncommon personality. -Cosmo had a profound belief in his father, though he was well aware that -he had never understood him thoroughly. . . . But if she is a woman out -of the common, he reflected further, then she can't possibly be -interested in a rough schoolboy grown into a young man of no particular -importance. No doubt she would be amiable enough. . . . -</p> - -<p> -"Clear away all these things. Spire," he said, "and go downstairs to see -if the messenger is back." -</p> - -<p> -The messenger was not back yet; and assisted by Spire, Cosmo began to -dress himself with extreme care. The tying of his neckcloth was an -irritating affair, and so was Spire's perfectly wooden face while he was -holding up the glass to him for that operation. Cosmo spoiled two -neckcloths and became extremely dissatisfied with the cut and colour of -various articles of attire which Spire presented to him one after -another. The fashions for men were perfectly absurd. By an effort of -mind Cosmo overcame this capricious discontent with familiar things and -finished his dressing. Then he sent Spire once more downstairs to -inquire if the messenger was back. Obediently, Spire disappeared, but -once gone it did not seem as though he meant to return at all. There was -no Spire. There was no bell-pull in the room either. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo stuck his head out through the door. Absolute silence reigned in -the well of the stairs. A woman in black, on her knees beside a pail of -water and scrubbing the floor of the corridor, looked up at him. Cosmo -drew his head in. She was a pitiful hag. . . . He was sure of a gracious -reception, of course. He was also sure of meeting a lot of people of all -sorts. He wondered what sort of society she received. Everybody, no -doubt; Austrians, Italians, French; all the triumphant reactionaries, -all the depressed heads bobbing up again after the storm, venomous, -revengeful, oppressive, odious. What the devil had become of Spire? -</p> - -<p> -The long window right down to the floor had remained open. Suddenly the -sound of a drum reached Cosmo's ears. Stepping out on a balcony, he saw -a company of infantry in white coats marching across a distant corner of -the piazza. Austrians! Yes, their time had come. A voice behind him -said: "The messenger is back, sir." Cosmo stepped in and saw Spire -empty-handed. "There's a verbal answer, sir." -</p> - -<p> -"What is it? You haven't spoken with the messenger, have you?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have seen him, sir, but I got the message through the innkeeper. He -speaks a little English. The lady would be glad to see you as soon after -the fourth hour as possible. They have their own way of reckoning time, -but as far as I can understand it, sir, it means something between ten -and eleven. At any rate, it's what Cantelucci says, and he can tell the -time by an English watch all right." -</p> - -<p> -"Shut the window, Spire. I don't want to hear that drum. Yes, it would -mean as soon after ten as possible, but why has the fellow been so long? -Is it very far?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, sir, I think it's quite close, really. He was so long because he -has been trying to give your note to the lady herself and there was some -difficulty about it. That innkeeper tells me that instead of handing it -to the porter the fellow got in through the kitchen door and was dodging -about a passage for some time." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo looked fixedly at Spire, whose face expressed no opinion whatever -on those proceedings. -</p> - -<p> -"Dodging in a passage," repeated Cosmo. "But did he see the lady -herself?" -</p> - -<p> -"Apparently not, sir. Cantelucci slanged him for being so long, but he -said he thought he was acting for the best. He would have been there yet -if a black woman hadn't come along and snatched the letter out of his -hand. It was she too who brought down the message from the lady." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes," said Cosmo. "Don't you remember there was a black maid?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir, I remember perfectly well, in the house-keeper's room. She -learned to talk English very quickly, but she was a little spitfire." -</p> - -<p> -"Was she?" -</p> - -<p> -Spire busied himself in brushing Cosmo's hat while he remarked in an -explanatory tone: "She could never understand a joke, sir." -</p> - -<p> -He attended Cosmo into the hall, where Cantelucci with his usual intense -gravity and a deep bow asked whether the signore would want a carriage. -Cosmo, however, preferred walking; therefore the youth who had taken -Cosmo's note was directed to guide the English milord to the Palazzo -Brignoli. He had a tousled head of hair and wore a jacket that might -have belonged at one time to a hussar's uniform, with all its trimmings -and buttons cut off and a ragged hole in each elbow. His cheeks were -sunken, his eyes rolled expressively, and his smile discovered a set of -very sound teeth. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Si, si</i>, Palazzo Rosso," he said. -</p> - -<p> -Cantelucci explained in his imperturbable and solemn manner that the -populace gave that name to the Palace on account of the red granite of -which it was built, and the thin-faced lad, bounding forward, preceded -Cosmo across the piazza, looking over his shoulder from time to time. -Cosmo's doubts and apprehensions disappeared before the inevitable charm -and splendour of the town. At the corner of a narrow lane and a small -open space with some trees growing in the centre of it the ragged guide -stopped and, pointing at a dark and magnificent building, left him -alone. Massive and sombre, ornate and heavy, with a dark aspect and -enormous carvings, the Palace where little Adèle was living had to -Cosmo's eye the air of a sumptuous prison. The portal with its heavy -iron-studded doors was reached by a flight of shallow steps, a segment -of a wide circle, guarded on each side by an enormous griffin seated, -tensely alert with wing and claw, on a high and narrow pedestal. On -ascending the steps Cosmo discovered that the heavy door was ajar, just -enough to let him slip in; and, at once, from the gloom of the arched -passage he saw the inner sunshine on the oleanders of the inner court, -flagged with marble, from whence a broad staircase ascended to the -colonnaded gallery of the first floor. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo had seen no porter or other living soul, and there was no sound of -any sort, no appearance of movement anywhere. Even the leaves of the -oleanders kept perfectly still. In the light of the morning a slanting -shadow cut the western wall into two triangles, one dark, the other -glowing as with a red fire; and Cosmo remained for a moment spellbound -by a strong impression of empty grandeur, magnificence, and solitude. -</p> - -<p> -A voice behind him, issuing from somewhere in the big gateway through -which he had passed, cried: "Ascend, signore!" Cosmo began to mount the -open staircase, embarrassed as though he had been watched by thousands -of eyes. In the gallery he hesitated, for the several doors he could see -remained closed, and the only sound that reached his ears was the gentle -plashing of the fountain in the court below him. -</p> - -<p> -Before he had made up his mind the door in front of him opened fairly -wide, but he could not see the person till he had entered an anteroom -with narrow red and gilt settees ranged along its white walls. The door -shut behind him and, turning round, he confronted a dark, plump mulatto -woman who was staring at him with an expression of intense admiration. -She clapped her hands in ecstasy and, opening her mouth, exhibited her -white teeth in a low cackling laugh. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Bonjour</i>, Aglae," said Cosmo readily. -</p> - -<p> -The woman laughed again in sheer delight. "You remember my name, Mr. -Cosmo! You quite frighten me, you grow so big. I remember you climb tree -and throw nice ripe apple to the black girl. . . ." Her eyes gleamed and -rolled absurdly. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo was so strangely touched by this extremely slight reminiscence of -his tree-climbing boyhood, that when she added, "That was a good time," -he was quite ready to agree, thereby provoking another burst of -delightful laughter. But Aglae was controlling herself obviously. Her -laughter was subdued. It had not the unbounded freedom of sound that -used to reverberate exotically in the dark passages at the back of -Latham Hall; though there, too, Aglae tried to subdue it in view of -rebukes or sarcastic comments in the servants' hall. It stopped suddenly -and Aglae in a tone of sober respect wanted to know how the Seignior -was. Cosmo said that his father was very well. -</p> - -<p> -"He a very-great gentleman," commented Aglae. "I always tremble when I -see him. You very fine gentleman too, Mr. Cosmo." -</p> - -<p> -She moved to one of the inner doors, but as Cosmo was following her she -raised her hand to prevent him and opened the door only a little way, -then came back and said in a lower tone, "It's to hear the bell better -when it rings. . . . Will you wait a little bit here?" she asked -anxiously. -</p> - -<p> -"I will," said Cosmo, "but surely you don't want to tremble before me. -What is the matter?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing at all is the matter." Aglae tossed her head, tied up in a -bandana handkerchief, with something of the spirit of the old days. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo was amused. "I no tremble before you," she continued. "I always -like you very much. I am glad with all my heart to see you here." -</p> - -<p> -All the time she turned her ear to the door she had left the least bit -ajar. She had on a high-waisted white calico dress, white stockings, and -Genoese slippers on her feet. Her dark brown hands moved uneasily. -</p> - -<p> -"And how is Madame la Comtesse?" asked Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"Miss Adèle very well. Anyway she never says anything else. She very -great lady now. All the town come here, but she wants to see you alone -after all these years." -</p> - -<p> -"It's very kind of her," said Cosmo. "I was wondering whether she -remembered me at all." -</p> - -<p> -Now the excitement of seeing him had worn off, he was surprised at the -careworn expression of the mulatto's face. For a moment it seemed to him -like a tragic mask, then came the flash of white teeth, strangely unlike -a smile. -</p> - -<p> -"She remember everything," said Aglae. "She . . . she . . . Mr. Cosmo, -you no boy now. I tell you that Miss Adèle had not a moment's peace -since she drive away from your big home in the country one very cold -day. I remember very well. Little birds fall dead off the tree. I feel -ready to fall dead myself." -</p> - -<p> -"I was away at school," said Cosmo. He remembered that on his return the -disappearance of those people had not produced a very strong impression -on him. In fact, the only thing he had missed was, in the evening, the -fair head of the stranger Adèle near the dark head of his sister -Henrietta. And the next evening he had not even missed that! -</p> - -<p> -While these thoughts were passing through his head he waited, looking at -Aglae with a faint smile of which he was not aware. The mulatto girl -seemed to have concentrated all her faculties on listening for the sound -of a bell. It came at last. Cosmo heard it, too, very distant, faint and -prolonged. A handbell. -</p> - -<p> -"Now," said Aglae under her breath, and Cosmo followed her through a -suite of rooms, magnificent but under-furnished, with the full light -excluded by half-closed jalousies. The vista was terminated by a white -and gold door at which Aglae stopped and looked back at him over her -shoulder with an air of curiosity, anxiety, or was it hesitation? But -certainly without a smile. As to his own it had stiffened permanently on -his lips. Before turning the handle of the door the mulatto listened for -a moment. Then she threw it open, disclosing a room full of light indeed -but which Cosmo could not see in its full extent because of a screen -cutting off the view. His last thought as he crossed the threshold was, -"It will be interesting," and then he heard the door shut behind him, -leaving him as it were alone with the heavy screen of figured velvet and -three windows through which sunshine poured in a way that almost blinded -him after his long experience of half lights. -</p> - -<p> -He walked clear of the screen, and he was surprised at the vast size of -the room. Here and there were other screens and a quite unexpected -quantity of elegant furniture amongst which he felt for a moment as if -lost. All this shone and gleamed and glowed with colour in the freshness -and brilliance of the sunny morning. "Why, there's nobody here," he -thought with a mingled sense of disappointment and relief. To his left -above a square of carpet that was like a flower-bed rose a white -mantelpiece which in its proportion and sumptuosity was like a low but -much carved portal surmounted by an enormous sheet of glass reaching up -to the cornice of the ceiling. He stepped on to the flowers, feeling now -somewhat vexed, and only then perceived away at the other end of the -room, in a corner beyond a fourth window, a lady seated at a writing -table with her back to him. Barred by the gilt openwork of the -chair-back he saw her dress, the only bit of blue in the room. There was -some white lace about her shoulders, her fair head was bent, she was -writing rapidly. -</p> - -<p> -Whoever she was she seemed not to be aware of his presence. Cosmo did -not know whether to wait in silence or say something, or merely warn her -by a slight cough. What a stupid position, he thought. At that moment -the lady put the pen down and rose from her chair brusquely, yet there -was a perceptible moment before she turned round and advanced towards -him. She was tall. But for the manner of his introduction, which could -leave no room for doubt, the impression that this could not be the lady -he had come to see would have been irresistible. As it was Cosmo felt -apologetic, as though he had come to the wrong house. It occurred to him -also that the lady had been from the very first aware of his presence. -He was struck by the profundity of her eyes, which were fixed on him. -The train of her blue robe followed on the floor. Her well-shaped head -was a mass of short fair curls, and while she approached him Cosmo saw -the colour leave her cheeks, the passing away of an unmistakable blush. -She stopped and said in an even voice: -</p> - -<p> -"Don't you recognize me?" -</p> - -<p> -He recovered his power of speech but not exactly the command of his -thoughts, which were overwhelmed by a variety of strong and fugitive -impulses. -</p> - -<p> -"I have never known you," he said with a tone of the profoundest -conviction. -</p> - -<p> -She smiled (Cosmo was perfectly sure that he had never seen that sort of -smile or the promise even of anything so enchanting), and sank slowly on -to a sofa whose brocaded silk, gray like pure ashes, and the carved -frame painted with flowers and picked with gold, acquired an -extraordinary value from the colour of her dress and the grace of her -attitude. She pointed to an armchair, close by. Cosmo sat down. A very -small table of ebony inlaid with silver stood between them, her hand -rested on it; and Cosmo looked at it with appreciation, as if it had -been an object of art, before he raised his eyes to the expectant face. -</p> - -<p> -"Frankly," he said, "didn't you think that a complete stranger had been -brought into the room?" -</p> - -<p> -He said this very seriously, and she answered him in a light tone. "For -a moment I was afraid to look round. I sat there with my back to you. It -was absurd after having been imprudent enough to let you come in the -morning. You kept so still that you might have been already gone. I took -fright, I jumped up, but I need not have hesitated. You are still the -same boy." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo paid very little attention to what she said. Without restraint and -disguise, in open admiration he was observing her with all his might, -saying to himself, "Is it possible—this—Adèle!" He recollected -himself, however, sufficiently to murmur that men changed more slowly -and perhaps less completely than women. The Countess of Montevesso was -not of that opinion, or, at any rate, not in this case. -</p> - -<p> -"It isn't that at all. I know because I used to look at you with that -attention worthy of the heir of the Latham name, whereas you never -honoured the French girl by anything more than a casual glance. Why -should you have done more? You had the dogs, the horses, your first gun. -I remember the gun. You showed it to both of us, to your sister and -myself while we were walking in the park. You shouted to us and came -across the grass, brandishing your gun, while the governess—I don't -remember her name—screamed at you. Oh <i>mon dieu! N'approaches -pas!</i> You paid not the slightest attention to her. You had a flushed -face. Of course her screaming frightened us at first, and just as we were -preparing to get very interested in your gun you walked off with a look -of contempt." -</p> - -<p> -"Did I behave so badly as that?" said Cosmo, feeling suddenly very much -at ease with that lady with whom he had never even exchanged a formal -greeting. She had grown more animated. As he was very fond of his sister -he answered her numerous questions about Henrietta with interest and -pleasure. From that subject the lady on the sofa, who may or may not -have been Adèle d'Armand at one time, went on putting a series of -questions about the house and all the people in it in a manner that -proved a precise and affectionate recollection of those days. The memory -of the countryside seemed to have been cherished by her too, and Cosmo's -heart warmed to the subject. She remembered certain spots in the park -and certain points of view in the neighbourhood as though she had left -them but a year before. She seemed not to have forgotten a single -servant in the house. She asked after Spire. -</p> - -<p> -"I have got him with me," said Cosmo. "Of course he has grown elderly." -</p> - -<p> -He almost forgot to whom he was speaking. Without associating her very -distinctly with the child Adèle, he was taking the Countess de -Montevesso for granted. He delighted in seeing her so quiet and so -perfectly natural. The first effect of her appearance persisted, with -only the added sense of the deep dark blue of her eyes, an impression of -living profundity that made his thoughts about her pause. But he was -unconsciously grateful to her for the fact that she had never given him -a moment of that acute social awkwardness from which he used to suffer -so much; though there could not be the slightest doubt that the little -Adèle (if there had ever been a little Adèle) was now a very fine lady -indeed. But she loved the old place and everything and everybody in it. -Of that too there could be no doubt. The few references she made to his -mother touched and surprised Cosmo. They seemed to imply some depth in -her which he, the son, and Henrietta, the daughter, had failed to -penetrate. In contrast with that, Cosmo remarked that after the inquiry -after Sir Charles's health, which was one of her first questions, his -father was not mentioned again. -</p> - -<p> -"Are you going to make a stay in Genoa?" she asked after a pause. -</p> - -<p> -"A few days," said Cosmo, in an irresolute tone, because he did not know -what answer was expected to this inquiry, the first which had nothing to -do with Yorkshire. His interest in the rest of Italy was, he perceived, -very small. But by the association of ideas he thought suddenly of the -passing hours. He raised his eyes to a faintly engraved brass disc with -black hands hung on the wall above one of the two doors at that end of -the room which he was facing. The black hands pointed to eleven, but -what prevented his eyes from returning at once to the delighted -contemplation of the Countess of Montevesso was the fact that the door -below the clock seemed to have moved slightly. -</p> - -<p> -"I intend to see something of Italy," he said. "My time really is my -own, I have nothing special to do. It seems to me that the principal -object of my journey has been attained now. I don't think my father -would be surprised to hear that I had turned back after leaving Genoa." -</p> - -<p> -The Countess looking up at this, their eyes remained fastened together -for a time and Cosmo thought: "What on earth am I saying?" He watched -her lips move to form the words which quite frightened him. -</p> - -<p> -"Did Sir Charles give you a message for me?" -</p> - -<p> -He thought he had brought this on himself. It was a painful moment. It -lasted long enough to give the Countess the time to assume an expression -of indifference, startling after the low tone of her question. -</p> - -<p> -"No," said Cosmo truthfully. "I have only a message for your father." He -waited a moment. "But I will tell you one of the last things Henrietta -told me. She told me that when you were married my father could think of -nothing for days but you." -</p> - -<p> -He did not venture to look at her; then added impulsively, "My father -loved you dearly. We children could see it very well. Ad——" -</p> - -<p> -"Why don't you finish my name?" her seductive voice asked. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo coloured. "Well, you know, I never heard you really called by any -other name. It came naturally since I suppose you must be—Adèle." -</p> - -<p> -Madame de Montevesso, who had been hanging on his lips, was surprised by -Cosmo raising his eyes to stare intensely into the part of the room -behind her back. Just as he was making his apology he had noticed the -door under the clock swing open without any sound at all; and there -entered quite noiselessly, too, and with something ambiguous in the very -motion, a young girl (nothing could have been more unexpected) in a sort -of dishabille of a white skirt and a long pink jacket of some very thin -stuff which had a silky shimmer. She made a few steps and stopped. She -was rather short, her hair was intensely black and drawn tightly away -from her forehead. Cosmo felt sure (though he couldn't see) that it was -done in one long plait at the back. Her face was a short oval, her chin -blunt, her nose a little too big and her black eyes perfectly round. -Cosmo had the time to notice all this because astonishment prevented him -from looking away. The girl advanced slowly if with perfect assurance, -and stared unwinkingly at Cosmo, who in the extremity of his -embarrassment got up from his chair. The young girl then stopped short -and for a moment the three persons in the room preserved an absolute -immobility. Then the Countess glanced over her shoulder leisurely and -addressed Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"This is Clelia, a niece of my husband." Cosmo made a deep bow to the -possessor of the round black eyes. "I didn't know of her existence till -about a fortnight ago," added Madame de Montevesso carelessly. The -round-eyed girl still staring hard made a curtsey to Cosmo. "My -husband," went on Adèle, "has also two old aunts living here. I have -never seen them. This house is very big." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo resumed his seat and there was a moment of silence. The girl sat -down in the chair before the writing table sideways, folded her arms on -its back, and rested her chin on her hands. Her round eyes examined -Cosmo with a sort of animal frankness. He thought suddenly that it was -time to bring his visit to an end. He would have risen at once but for -the Countess de Montevesso beginning to speak to him, still in English. -She seemed to have guessed what was passing through his mind. -</p> - -<p> -"Don't go yet for a moment," she said, in a perfectly unconcerned voice, -then paused. "We were talking about your father." -</p> - -<p> -"As to him," said Cosmo, "I have nothing more to say. I have told you -all the truth as far as I am certain of it." -</p> - -<p> -She inclined her head slowly and in the same level voice: -</p> - -<p> -"The Court is here and most of the foreign ambassadors. We are waiting -here for the arrival of the Queen of Sardinia, who may or may not come -within the next month or so. This is considered a good post of -observation, but there is very little to observe just now from the -diplomatic point of view. Most of us have exhausted almost all emotions. -Life has grown suddenly very dull. We gossip a little about each other; -we wait for the end of the Vienna Congress and discuss the latest rumour -that floats about. Yes. The play is over, the stage seems empty. If I -were you I would stay a little longer here." -</p> - -<p> -"I certainly mean to stay here for some time," declared Cosmo with -sudden resolution. -</p> - -<p> -"That's right," she continued in the same indifferent tone. "But wait a -few days before you write home. You have awakened old memories in me. -Inconceivably distant," she went on in a voice more expressionless than -ever, "and the dormant feelings of what seems quite another age." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo smiled at this. The girl with round eyes was keeping perfectly -still with her watchful stare. Madame de Montevesso seemed to read -Cosmo's thoughts. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," she insisted. "I feel very old and everything is very far. I am -twenty-six and I have been married very nearly ten years now." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo, looking at her face, thought that those had been the most -agitated ten years of European history. He said, "I have no doubt that -Yorkshire must seem very far away to you." -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose you write very often home?" she said. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo defended himself from being one of those people who write letters -about their travels. He had no talent for that; and then what could one -write to a young girl like Henrietta and to a man as austere as his -father, who had so long retired from the world? Cosmo had found it very -difficult. Of course he took care to let them know pretty often that he -was safe and sound. -</p> - -<p> -Adèle could see this point of view. She seemed amused by the innocent -difficulties of a young man having no one but a father and a sister to -write to. She ascertained that he had no intimate friend left behind to -whom he could confide his impressions. Cosmo said he had formed none of -those intimacies that induce a man to share his innermost thoughts and -feelings with somebody else. -</p> - -<p> -"Probably your father was like that too," said Madame de Montevesso. "I -fancy he must have been very difficult to please, and still more -difficult to conquer." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, as to that," said Cosmo, "I can safely say I've never been -conquered," and he laughed boyishly. He confessed further that he had -the habit of thinking contradictorily about most things. "My father was -never like that," he concluded. -</p> - -<p> -The gravity with which she listened to him now disconcerted him -secretly. At last she nodded and opined that his difficulties had their -source in the liveliness of his sympathies. He declared that he suffered -most at times from the difficulty of making himself understood by men of -his own age. -</p> - -<p> -"And the women?" she asked quietly. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, the women!" he said, without the slightest levity. "One would not -even try." He raised his eyes and, obeying a sudden impulse, added: "I -think that perhaps you could understand me." -</p> - -<p> -"That would be because I am so much older," she said. Cosmo discovered -in her delicately modelled face, with all its grace and freshness of -youth, an interrogative profundity of expression, the impress of the -problems of life and the conflicts of the soul. The great light of day -had treated her kindly. Bathed in the sunshine entering through the four -windows, she appeared to him wonderful in the glow of her complexion, in -the harmony of her form and the composed nobility of her attitude. He -felt this wonderfulness of her whole person in some sort physically, and -thought that he had looked at her too long. He glanced aside and met the -dark girl's round unwinking stare of a cat ready to fly at one. She had -not moved a hair's breadth, and Cosmo felt reluctant to take his eyes -off her exactly as though she had been a fierce cat. He heard the voice -of the Countess of Montevesso and had to turn to her. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, wait a few days before you write home about . . . Genoa." -</p> - -<p> -"I had a mind to begin a letter yesterday," he said. -</p> - -<p> -"What? Already! Only a few hours after your arrival!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. Henrietta is very anxious to hear everything relating to the -Emperor Napoleon." -</p> - -<p> -Madame de Montevesso was genuinely surprised. Her voice lost its equable -charm while she asked what on earth could he have had to tell of -Napoleon that he could not have written to her from Paris. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. He is in everybody's thoughts and on everybody's lips there," he -said. "Whenever three people come together he is the presence that is -with them. But last night . . ." -</p> - -<p> -He was on the point of telling her of his adventure on the tower when -she struck in: -</p> - -<p> -"The Congress will put an end to all that presently." It checked Cosmo's -expansiveness and he said instead: -</p> - -<p> -"It's very possible. But last night on arriving here I experienced a -curious sensation of his nearness. I went down in the evening to look at -the Port." -</p> - -<p> -"He isn't certainly very far from here. And what are your feelings about -him?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh," he rejoined lightly, "as about everything else in the -world—contradictory." -</p> - -<p> -Madame de Montevesso rose suddenly, saying: -</p> - -<p> -"I won't ask you, then, as to your feelings about myself." Cosmo stood -up hastily. He was a little the taller of the two but their faces were -nearly on a level. "I should like you to make up your mind about me -before you take up your traveller's pen," continued Adèle. "Come again -this evening. There will be a few people here; and, as you have said, -when a few people come together just now Napoleon is always with them, -an unseen presence. But you will see my father. Do you remember him at -all?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo assured her that he remembered the Marquis d'Armand perfectly. He -was on the point of making his parting bow when Madame de Montevesso, -with the two words "<i>à l'Anglaise</i>," put out her hand. He took it and -forgot himself in the unexpected sensation of this contact. He was in no -haste to release it when to his extreme surprise, with a slight movement -of her eyes towards the girl at the writing table, Madame de Montevesso -said: -</p> - -<p> -"Did you ever see anything like that?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo was taken completely aback. He dropped her hand. He did not know -what to say, and even if it was proper for him to smile. Madame de -Montevesso continued in a voice betraying no sentiment of any kind: "I -can never be sure of my privacy now. Do you understand that I am her -aunt? She wanders all over this palazzo very much like a domestic -animal, only more observant, and she is by no means an idiot. Luckily -she knows no language but Italian." -</p> - -<p> -They had been moving slowly towards the other end of the room, but now -Madame de Montevesso stopped and returned Cosmo's parting bow with a -slight inclination of her head. Before passing round the screen between -him and the door Cosmo glanced back. The girl on the chair had not -stirred. -</p> - -<p> -He had half a hope that the mulatto maid would be waiting for him. But -he saw no one. As he crossed the courtyard he might have thought himself -leaving an uninhabited house. But the streets through which he made his -way to his inn were thronged with people. The day was quite warm. -Already on the edge of the pavements, here and there, there was a -display of flowers for sale; and at every turn he saw more people who -seemed carefree, and the women with their silken shoes and the lace -scarves on their heads appeared to him quite charming. The plaza was a -scene of constant movement. Here and there a group stood still, -conversing in low voices but with expressive gestures. As he approached -his hotel he caught an evanescent sight of the man he had met on the -tower. His cap was unmistakable. Cosmo mended his pace but the man had -disappeared; and after looking in all directions Cosmo went up the steps -of the inn. In his room he found Spire folding methodically some -clothes. -</p> - -<p> -"I saw that man," said Cosmo, handing him his hat. -</p> - -<p> -"Was he following you, sir?" asked Spire. -</p> - -<p> -"No, I saw his back quite near this house." -</p> - -<p> -"I shouldn't wonder if he were coming here," opined Spire. -</p> - -<p> -"In any case I wouldn't have spoken to him in the piazza," said Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"Much better not, sir," said the servant. -</p> - -<p> -"After all," said Cosmo, "I don't know that I have anything to say to -him." -</p> - -<p> -From these words Spire concluded that his master had found something -more interesting to occupy his mind. While he went on with his work he -talked to Cosmo, who had thrown himself into an armchair, of some -repairs needed to the carriage, and also informed him that the English -doctor had left a message asking whether Mr. Latham would do him the -honour to take his midday meal with him at the same table as last night. -After a slight hesitation Cosmo assented, and Spire, saying that he -would go and tell them downstairs, left the room. -</p> - -<p> -In the solitude favourable to concentration of thought Cosmo discovered -that he could not think connectedly, either of the fair curls of the -Countess de Montevesso or of the vague story of her marriage. Strictly -speaking he knew nothing of it; and this ignorance interfered with the -process of consecutive thinking; but he formed some images and even came -to the verge of that state in which one sees visions. The obscurity of -her past helped the freedom of his fancies. He had an intuitive -conviction that he had seen her in the fullest brilliance of her beauty -and of the charm of her mind. A woman like that was a great power, he -reflected, and then it occurred to him that, marvellous as she was, she -was not her own mistress. -</p> - -<p> -Some church clock striking loudly the hour roused him up, but before he -went downstairs he paced the floor to and fro several times. And when he -forced himself out of that empty room it was with a profound disgust of -all he was going to see and hear, a momentary repulsion towards the -claims of the world, like a man tearing himself away from the side of a -beloved mistress. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>III</h4> - -<p> -Returning that evening to the Palazzo Brignoli, Cosmo found the lantern -under the vaulted roof lighted. There was also a porter in gold-laced -livery and a cocked hat who saluted him, and in the white anteroom with -red benches along the walls two lackeys made ready to divest him of his -cloak. But a man in sombre garments detained Cosmo, saying that he was -the ambassador's valet, and led him away along a very badly lighted -inner corridor. He explained that His Excellency the Ambassador wished -to see Monsieur Latham for a few moments in private before Monsieur -Latham joined the general company. The ambassador's cabinet into which -he introduced Cosmo was lighted by a pair of candelabra. Cosmo was told -that His Excellency was finishing dressing, and then the man -disappeared. Cosmo noticed that there were several doors besides the one -by which he had entered, which was the least conspicuous of them all, -and in fact so inconspicuous, corresponding exactly to a painted panel, -that it might have been called a secret door. Other doors were framed in -costly woods, lining the considerable thicknesses of the walls. One of -them opened without noise and Cosmo saw enter a man somewhat taller than -he had expected to see, with a white head, in a coat with softly -gleaming embroideries and a broad ribbon across his breast. He advanced, -opening his arms wide, and Cosmo, who noticed that one of the hands was -holding a snuffbox, submitted with good grace to the embrace of the -Marquis d'Armand, whose lips touched his cheeks one after another and -whose hands then rested at arm's length on his shoulder for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -"Sit down, <i>mon enfant</i>," were the first words spoken, and Cosmo -obeyed, facing the armchair into which the Marquis had dropped. A white -meagre hand set in fine lace moved the candelabra on the table, and Cosmo -good-humouredly submitted to being contemplated in silence. This man in -a splendid coat, white-headed and with a broad ribbon across his breast, -seemed to have no connection whatever with his father's guest, whom as a -boy he remembered walking with Sir Charles amongst deep shrubberies or -writing busily at one end of the long table in the library of Latham -Hall, always with the slightly subdued mien of an exile and an air of -being worried by the possession of unspeakable secrets which he -preserved even when playing at backgammon with Sir Charles in the great -drawing room. Cosmo, returning the gaze of the tired eyes, remarked that -the ambassador looked old but not at all senile. -</p> - -<p> -At last the Marquis declared that he could detect the lineaments of his -old friend in the son's face, and in a voice that was low and kindly put -a series of questions about Sir Charles, about London and his old -friends there; questions which Cosmo, especially as to the latter, was -not always able to answer fully. -</p> - -<p> -"I forget! You are still so young," said the ambassador, recollecting -himself. This young man sitting here before him with a friendly smile -had his friends amongst his own contemporaries, shared the ideas and the -views of his own generation which had grown up since the Revolution, to -whom the Revolution was only a historical fact and whose enthusiasms had -a strange complexion, for the undisciplined hopes of the young make them -reckless in words and sometimes in actions. The Marquis's own generation -had been different. It had had no inducement to be reckless. It had been -born to a settled order of things. Certainly a few philosophers had been -indulging for years in subversive sentimentalism, but the foundations of -Europe seemed unshakable. He noticed Cosmo's expectant attitude and -said: -</p> - -<p> -"I wonder what my dear old friend is thinking of all this." -</p> - -<p> -"It is not very easy to get at my father's thoughts," confessed Cosmo. -"After all, you must know my father much better than I do, Monsieur le -Marquis." -</p> - -<p> -"In the austerity of his convictions your father was more like a -republican of ancient times," said the Marquis seriously. "Does that -surprise you, my young friend? . . ." Cosmo shook his head slightly. . . . -"Yet we always agreed very well. Your father understood every kind of -fidelity. The world had never known him and it will never know him now. -But I, who approached him closely, could have nothing but the greatest -respect for his character and for his far-seeing wisdom." -</p> - -<p> -"I am very glad to hear you say this," interjected Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"He was a scornful man," said the Marquis, then paused and repeated once -more: "Yes. <i>Un grand dédaigneux.</i> He was that. But one accepted it -from him as one would not from another man, because one felt that it was -not the result of mean grievances or disappointed hopes. Now the old -order is coming back and, whatever my old friend may think of it, he had -his share in that work." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo raised his head. "I had no idea," he murmured. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said the Marquis. "Indirectly if you like. All I could offer to -my Princes was my life, my toil, the sacrifice of my deepest feelings as -husband and father. I don't say this to boast. I could not have acted -otherwise. But for my share of the work, risky, often desperate, and -continuously hopeless as it seemed to be, I have to thank your father's -help, <i>mon jeune ami.</i> It came out of that fortune which some day will -be yours. The only thing in all the activities the penetrating mind of -your father was not scornful of was my fidelity. He understood that it -was above the intrigued, the lies, the selfish stupidities of that -exiles' life which we all shared with our Princes. They will never know -how much they owe to that English gentleman. When parting with my wife -and child I was sustained by the thought that his friendship and care -were extended over them and would not fail." -</p> - -<p> -"I have heard nothing of all this," said Cosmo. "Of course I was not -ignorant of the great friendship that united you to him. This is one of -the things that the world does know about my father." -</p> - -<p> -"Have you brought a letter for me?" asked the Marquis. "I haven't heard -from him for a long time. After we returned to France, through the -influence of my son-in-law, communications were very difficult. Ten -years of war, my dear friend, ten years." -</p> - -<p> -"Father very seldom takes a pen in hand now," said Cosmo, "but . . ." -</p> - -<p> -The Marquis interrupted him. "When you write home, my dear friend, tell -him that I never gave way to promptings of mean ambition or an unworthy -vanity. Tell him that I twice declined the Embassy of Madrid which was -pressed on me, and that if I accepted the nomination as a Commissioner -for settling the frontiers with the representatives of the Allied Powers -it was at the cost of my deepest feelings and only to serve my -vanquished country. My secret missions had made me known to many -European statesmen. I knew I was liked. I thought I could do some good. -The Russians, I must say, were quite charming, and you may tell your -father that Sir Charles Stewart clothed his demands in the form of the -most perfect politeness; but all those transactions were based after all -on the right of the strongest. I had black moments and I suffered as a -Frenchman. I suffered . . ." -</p> - -<p> -The Marquis got up, walked away to the other end of the room, then -coming back dropped into the armchair again. Cosmo was too startled by -this display of feeling to rise. The ambassadorial figure in the laced -coat exhaled a deep sigh. "Your father knows that, unlike so many of the -other refugees, I have always remained a Frenchman. One would have paid -any price almost to avoid this humiliation." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo was gratified by the anxiety of a king's friend to, as it were, -justify himself before his father. He discovered that even this old -royalist had been forced, if only for a moment, to regret the days of -imperial victories. The Marquis tapped his snuffbox, took a pinch of -snuff, and composed himself. -</p> - -<p> -"Of course when this Turin mission was unexpectedly pressed on me I went -to the King himself and explained that, having refused a much higher -post, I could not think of accepting this one. But the King pointed out -that this was an altogether different position. The King of Sardinia was -his brother-in-law. There was nothing to say against such an argument. -His Majesty was also good enough to say that he was anxious to grant me -any favour I might ask. I didn't want any favours but I had to think of -something on the spur of the moment and I begged for a special right of -entrée on days on which there are no receptions. I couldn't resist so -much graciousness," continued the Marquis. "I have managed to keep clear -of prejudices that poison and endanger the hopes of this restoration, -but I am a royalist, a man of my own time. Remember to tell your father -all this, my dear young friend." -</p> - -<p> -"I shall not fail," said Cosmo, wondering within himself at the power of -such a strange argument, yet feeling a liking and respect for that old -man torn between rejoicing and sorrow at the end of his troubled life. -</p> - -<p> -"I should like him to know, too," the Marquis said in his bland and -friendly voice, "that M. de Talleyrand just before he left for Vienna -held out to me the prospect of the London Embassy later. That, -certainly, I would not refuse, if only to be nearer a man to whom my -obligations are immense and only equalled by the affection I had borne -towards him through all those unhappy years." -</p> - -<p> -"My father—" began Cosmo—"I ought to have given you his message -before—told me to give you his love and to tell you that when you are -tired of your grandeurs there is always a large place for you in his -house." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo was surprised at the sudden movement of the Marquis, who leaned -over the arm of his chair and put his hand over his eyes. For a time -complete silence reigned in the room. Then Cosmo said: -</p> - -<p> -"I think somebody is scratching at the door." -</p> - -<p> -The Marquis sat up and listened, then raising his voice: "You may come -in." -</p> - -<p> -The man in black clothes, entering through the hidden door, stopped at -some distance in a respectful attitude. The Marquis beckoned him to -approach, and the man, bending to his ear, said in a low voice which -was, however, audible to Cosmo: "He is here." The Marquis answered in an -undertone, "He came rather early. He must wait," at which the man -murmured something which Cosmo couldn't hear. He became aware that the -Marquis looked at him irresolutely before he said: -</p> - -<p> -"My dear boy, you will have to make your entrance into my daughter's -salon together with me. I thought of sending you back the way you came, -but as a matter of fact the passage is blocked. . . . Bring him in and -let him sit here after we are gone," he directed the man in black, and -Cosmo only then recognized Bernard, the servant of proved fidelity in -all the misfortunes of the D'Armand family. Bernard withdrew without -responding in any way to Cosmo's smile of recognition. "In my position," -continued the Marquis, "I have to make use of agents more or less shady. -Those men often object to being seen. Their occupation is risky. There -is a man of that sort waiting in the corridor." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo said he was at the Marquis's orders, but the ambassador remained -in the armchair, tapping the lid of his snuffbox slightly. -</p> - -<p> -"You saw my daughter this morning, I understand." Cosmo made an -assenting bow. Madame de Montevesso had done him the honour to receive -him in the morning. -</p> - -<p> -"You speak French very well," said the Marquis. "I don't really know why -the English are supposed to be bad linguists. We French are much worse. -Did you two speak French together?" -</p> - -<p> -"No," said Cosmo, "we spoke in English. It was Madame de Montevesso's -own choice." -</p> - -<p> -"She hasn't quite forgotten it, has she?" -</p> - -<p> -"It struck me," said Cosmo, "that your daughter has forgotten neither -the language nor the people, nor the sights of her early life. I was -touched by the fidelity of her memory and the warmth of her feelings." -</p> - -<p> -His own tone had warmth enough in it to make the Marquis look up at him. -There was a short pause. "None of us are likely to forget those days of -noble and infinite kindness. We were but vagrants on a hostile earth. My -daughter could not have forgotten! As long as there is anybody of our -name left . . ." -</p> - -<p> -The Marquis checked himself abruptly, but almost at once went on in a -slightly changed tone: "But I am alone of my name now. I wish I had had -a son so that gratitude could have been perpetuated from generation to -generation and become a traditional thing between our two families. But -this is not to be. Perhaps you didn't know I had a brother. He was much -younger than myself and I loved him as though he had been my son. -Directly I had placed my wife and child in safety, your father insisted -on giving me the means to return to France secretly in order to try and -save that young head. But all my attempts failed. It fell on the -scaffold. He was one of the last victims of the sanguinary madness of -that time. . . . But let us talk of something else. What are your plans, -my young friend?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo confessed that he had no plans. He intended to stay in Genoa for -some time. Madame de Montevesso had been good enough to encourage him in -that idea, and really there was such a feeling of leisure in the -European atmosphere that he didn't see why he should make any plans. The -world was enjoying its first breathing time. Cosmo corrected -himself—well no, perhaps not exactly enjoying. To be strictly -truthful he had not noticed much feeling of joy. . . . He hesitated a -moment but the whole attitude of the Marquis was so benevolent and -encouraging that he continued to take stock of his own sensations and -continued in the same strain. There was activity, lots of activity, -agitation perhaps, but no real joy. Or at any rate, no enjoyment. Not -even now, after the foreign troops had withdrawn from France and all the -sovereigns of the world had gone to Vienna. -</p> - -<p> -The Marquis listened with profound attention. "Are those your -impressions, <i>mon cher enfant?</i> Somehow they don't seem very -favourable. But you English are very apt to judge us with severity. I -hear very little of what is going on in France." -</p> - -<p> -The train of his own thoughts had mastered Cosmo, who added, "What -struck me most was the sense of security . . ." he paused for an instant -and the ambassador, bending forward in the chair with the air of a man -attempting an experiment, insinuated gently: -</p> - -<p> -"Not such a bad thing, that sentiment." -</p> - -<p> -In the ardour of his honesty Cosmo did not notice either the attitude or -the tone, though he caught the sense of the words. -</p> - -<p> -"Was it of the right kind," he went on, as if communing with himself, -"or was it the absence of sound thought, and almost of all feeling? M. -le Marquis, I am too young to judge, but one would have thought, -listening to the talk one heard on all sides, that such a man as -Bonaparte had never existed." -</p> - -<p> -"You have been in the society of returned exiles," said the Marquis -after a moment of meditation. "You must judge them charitably. A class -that has been under the ban for years lives on its passions and on -prejudices whose growth stifles not only its sagacity but its visions of -the reality." He changed his tone. "Our present Minister of Foreign -Affairs never communicates with me personally. The only personal letter -I had from him in the last four months was on the subject of procuring -some truffles that grow in this country for the King, and there were -four pages of most minute directions as to where they were to be found -and how they were to be packed and transmitted to Paris. As to my -dispatches, I get merely formal acknowledgments. I really don't know -what is going on except through travellers who naturally colour their -information with their own desires. M. de Talleyrand writes me short -notes now and then, but as he has been himself for months in Vienna he -can't possibly know what is going on in France. His acute mind, his -extraordinary talents are fit to cope with the international situation, -but I suppose he too is uneasy. In fact, my dear young friend, as far as -I can judge, uneasy suspense is the prevailing sentiment all round the -basin of the Mediterranean. The fate of nations still hangs in the -balance." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo waited a moment before he whispered, "And the fate of some -individual souls perhaps." -</p> - -<p> -The ambassador made no sound till after a whole minute had elapsed, and -then it was only to say: -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose that like many of your young and even old countrymen, you -have formed a project of visiting Elba." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo at once adopted a conversational tone. "Half-formed at most," he -said. "I was never one of those who like to visit prisons and gaze at -their fellow beings in captivity. A strange taste indeed! I will own to -you, M. le Marquis," he went on boyishly, "that the notion of captivity -is very odious to me, for men, and for animals too. I would sooner look -at a dead lion than a lion in a cage. Yet I remember a young French -friend of mine telling me that we English were the most curious nation -in the world. But as you said, everybody seems to be doing Elba. I -suppose there are no difficulties." -</p> - -<p> -"Not enough difficulties," said the ambassador blandly. "I mean for the -good of all concerned." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah," said Cosmo, and repeated thoughtfully, "All concerned! The other -day in Paris I met Mr. Wycherley on his way home. He seemed to have had -no difficulty at all, not even in Elba. We had quite a long audience. -Mr. Wycherley struck me as a man of blunt feelings. Apparently the -Emperor—after all, the imperial title is not taken away from him -yet——" -</p> - -<p> -The Marquis lowered his head slowly. "No, not yet." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, the Emperor said to him: 'You have come here to look at a wild -beast,' and Mr. Wycherley, who doesn't seem to be at a loss for words, -answered at once: 'I have come here to look at a great man.' What a -crude answer! He is telling this story to everybody. He told me he is -going to publish a pamphlet about his visit." -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Wycherley is a man of good company. His answer was polite. What -would have been yours, my young friend?" -</p> - -<p> -"I don't think I will ever be called to make any sort of answer to the -great man," said Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -The Marquis got up with the words: "I think that on the whole you will -be wise not to waste your time. I have here a letter from the French -Consul in Leghorn quoting the latest report he had from Elba. It states -that Bonaparte remains shut up for days together in his private -apartments. The reason given is that he fears attempts on his life being -made by emissaries sent from France and Italy. He is not visible. -Another report states that lately he has expressed great uneasiness at -the movements of the French and English frigates." -</p> - -<p> -The Marquis laid a friendly hand on Cosmo's shoulder. "You cannot -complain of me; I have given you the very latest intelligence. And now -let us join whatever company my daughter is receiving. I think very few -people." He crossed the room, followed by Cosmo, and Cosmo noticed a -distinct lameness in his gait. At the moment of opening the door the -Marquis d'Armand said: -</p> - -<p> -"Your arm, <i>mon jeune ami.</i> I am suffering from rheumatism -considerably this evening." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo hastened to offer his arm, and the Marquis with his hand on the -door said: -</p> - -<p> -"I can hardly walk. I hope I shall be able to go to the audience I have -to-morrow with the King of Sardinia. He is an excellent man but all his -ideas and feelings came to a standstill in '98. It makes all -conversation with him extremely difficult even for me. His ministers are -more reasonable, but that is only because they are afraid." -</p> - -<p> -A low groan escaped the ambassador. He remained leaning with one hand on -Cosmo's shoulder and with the other clinging to the door-handle. -</p> - -<p> -"Afraid of the people?" asked Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"The people are being corrupted by secret societies," the Marquis said -in his bland tone. "All Italy is seething with conspiracies. What, -however, they are afraid most of is the Man of Elba." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo for an instant wondered at those confidences, but a swift -reflection that probably those things were known to everybody who was -anybody in Europe made him think that this familiar talk was merely the -effect of the Marquis's kindness to the son of his old friend. "I think -I can proceed now," said the Marquis, pushing the door open. Cosmo -recognized one of the rooms which he had passed in the morning. It was -the only one of the suite which was fully lighted by a great central -glass chandelier, but even in that only two rows of candles were -lighted. It was a small reception. The rest of the suite presented but a -dim perspective. A semi-circle of heavy armchairs was sparsely occupied -by less than a dozen ladies. There was only one card table in use. All -the faces were turned to the opening door, and Cosmo was struck by the -expression of profound surprise on them all. In one or two it resembled -thunderstruck imbecility. It didn't occur to him that the entrance of -the French King's personal representative leaning on the shoulder of a -completely unknown young man was enough to cause a sensation. A group of -elderly personages, conversing in a remote part of the room, became -silent. The Marquis gave a general greeting by an inclination of his -head, and Cosmo felt himself impelled towards a console between two -windows against which the Marquis leaned, whispering to him, "If I were -to sit down it would be such an affair to get up." The Countess de -Montevesso advanced quickly across the room. Cosmo noticed that her -dress had a long train. She smiled at Cosmo and said to the Marquis -anxiously: -</p> - -<p> -"You are in pain, Papa?" -</p> - -<p> -"A little. . . . Take him away, my dear, now. He was good enough to lend -me his shoulder as far as this." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Venez</i>, M. Latham," said Adèle, "I must introduce you at once to -Lady William Bentick in order to check wild speculation about the -appearance of a mysterious stranger. As it is, all the town will be full of -rumours. People will be talking about you this very night." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo followed Adèle across the room. She moved slowly and talked -easily with a flattering air of intimacy. She even stopped for a moment -under the great chandelier. "Lady William is talking now with Count -Bubna," she explained to Cosmo, who took a rapid survey of a tall, stout -man in an Austrian general's uniform, with his hair tied up in a queue, -with black moustaches and something cynical though not ill-natured in -his expression. That personage interrupted suddenly his conversation -with a lady, no longer very young, who was dressed very simply, and made -his way to the ambassador, giving in passing a faintly caustic smile and -a keen glance to Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"Let me introduce to you Mr. Cosmo Latham," said Adèle. "He is the son -of my father's very old friend. He and I haven't met since we were -children together in Yorkshire. He has just arrived here." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo bowed, and in response to a slight gesture took a seat close to -the lady, whose preoccupied air struck him with a sort of wonder. She -seemed to have something on her mind. Cosmo could know nothing of the -prevalent gossip that it was only the black eyes of Louise Durazzo that -were detaining Lord William in Italy. He explained in answer to a -careless inquiry as to the latest news from Paris that he had been -travelling very leisurely and that he could not possibly have brought -any fresh news. Lady William looked at him as if she had not seen him -before. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I am not very much interested in the news, except in so far that -they may make a longer stay here unnecessary for us." -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose everybody wants to see the shape of the civilized world -settled at last," said Cosmo politely. -</p> - -<p> -"All I want is to go home," declared Lady William. She was no longer -looking at him and had the appearance of a person not anxious to listen -to anybody's conversation. Cosmo glanced about the room. The card game -had been resumed. The Austrian general was talking to the Marquis with -Madame de Montevesso standing close to them, while other persons kept at -a respectful distance. Lady William seemed to be following her own -thoughts with a sort of impassive abstraction. Cosmo felt himself at -liberty to go on with his observations, and sweeping his glance round -noticed, sitting half hidden by the back of the armchair Adèle had -vacated, the dark girl with round black eyes, whom he had seen that -morning. To his extreme surprise she smiled at him and, not content with -that, gave other plain signs of recognition. He thought he could do no -less than get up and make her a bow. By the time he sat down again he -became aware that he had attracted the notice of all the ladies seated -before the fire. One of them put up her eyeglasses to look at him, two -others started talking low together with side glances in his direction, -and there was not one that did not look interested. This disturbed him -much less than the fixed stare of the young creature, which became -fastened on him unwinkingly. Even Lady William gave him a short look of -curiosity. -</p> - -<p> -"I understand that you have just arrived in Genoa." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. Yesterday afternoon late. This is my first appearance." -</p> - -<p> -He meant that it was his first appearance in society and he continued: -</p> - -<p> -"And I don't know a single person in this room even by name. Of course I -know that it is Count Bubna who is talking to the Marquis, but that is -all." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah," said Lady William with a particular intonation which made Cosmo -wonder what he could have said to provoke scepticism. But Lady William -was asking herself how it was that this young Englishman seemed to be -familiar with the freakish girl who was an object of many surmises in -Genoa, and whose company, it was understood, Count Helion of Montevesso -had imposed upon his wife. Meantime Cosmo, with the eyes of all the -women concentrated upon him with complete frankness, began to feel -uncomfortable. Lady William noticed it and out of pure kindness spoke to -him again. -</p> - -<p> -"If I understood rightly you have known Madame de Montevesso from -childhood." -</p> - -<p> -"I can't call myself really a childhood's friend. I was so much away -from home," explained Cosmo. "But she lived for some years in my -parents' house and everybody loved her there; my mother, my father, my -sister—and it seems to me, looking back now, that I too must have -loved her at that time; though we very seldom exchanged more than a few -words in the course of the day." -</p> - -<p> -He spoke with feeling and glanced in the direction of the group near the -console where the head of Adèle appeared radiant under the sparkling -crystals of the lustre. Lady William, bending sideways a little, leaned -her cheek against her hand in a listening attitude. Cosmo felt that he -was expected to go on speaking, but it seemed to him that he had nothing -more to say. He fell back upon a general remark. -</p> - -<p> -"I think boys are very stupid creatures. However, I wasn't so stupid as -not to feel that Adèle d'Armand was very intelligent and quite -different from us all. Her very gentleness set her apart. Moreover, -Henrietta and I were younger. To my sister and myself she seemed almost -grown up. A couple of years makes a very great difference at that age. -Soon after she went away we children heard that she was married. She -seemed lost to us then. Presently she went back to France, and once -there she was lost indeed. When one looked towards France in those days -it seems to me there was nothing to be seen but Napoleon. And then her -marriage, too. A Countess de Montevesso didn't mean anything to us. I -came here expecting to see a stranger." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo checked himself. It was impossible to say whether Lady William had -heard him, or even whether she had been listening at all, but she asked: -</p> - -<p> -"You never met Count Helion?" -</p> - -<p> -"I haven't the slightest idea of the man. He is not in this room, is he? -What is he like?" -</p> - -<p> -Lady William looked amused for a moment at the artless curiosity of the -Countess de Montevesso's young friend; but it was in an indifferent tone -that she said: -</p> - -<p> -"Count Helion is a man of immense wealth which he amassed in India -somewhere. He is much older than his wife. More than twice her age." -Cosmo showed his surprise, and Lady William continued smoothly: "Of -course all the world knows that Adèle has been a model wife." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo noted the faintest possible shade of emphasis on those last words -and thought to himself: "That means she is not happy and that the world -knows it." But, several men having approached the circle, the -conversation became general. He vacated his seat by the side of Lady -William and got introduced by Adèle to several people, amongst whom was -a delicate young woman splendidly dressed and of a slightly Jewish type -who, though she was the wife of General Count Bubna, commander-in-chief -of the Austrian troops and the representative of Austria at the Court of -Turin, behaved with a strange timidity and appeared almost too shy to -speak. A simple Madame Ferrati, or so at least Cosmo heard her name, a -lady with white tousled hair, had an aggressive manner. Cosmo remarked -in the course of the evening that she seemed rather to be persecuting -Lady William, who, however, remained amiably abstracted and did not seem -to mind anything. The Marquis, getting away from the console, had seated -himself near the little Madame Bubna. This, Cosmo thought, was an -unavoidable sort of thing for him to do. A young man with a grave manner -and something malicious in his eye, apparently a First Secretary of the -Embassy, informed Cosmo shortly after they had been made known to each -other that "the wife of the general would not naturally be received in -Vienna society," and that this was the secret of Bubna sticking to his -Italian command so long, even now when really all the excitement was -over. Of course he was very much in love with his wife. He used to give -her balls twice a week at the expense of the Turin Municipality. Old -Bubna understood the art of pillaging to perfection, but apart from that -he was a <i>parfait galant homme</i> and an able soldier. Bonaparte had a -very great liking for him. Bubna was the only friend Bonaparte had in -this room. He meant sympathy as man for man. Years ago when Bubna was in -Paris he got on very well with the Emperor. Bonaparte knew how to -flatter a man. It was worth while to sit up half the night to hear Bubna -talking about Bonaparte. "I am posting you up like this," concluded the -secretary, "because I see you are in the intimacy of the Marquis and of -Madame de Montevesso here." -</p> - -<p> -He went away then to talk to somebody else, and presently Madame de -Montevesso, passing close to Cosmo, whispered to him, "Stay to the -last," and went on without waiting for his answer. Cosmo amongst all the -groups engaged in animated conversation felt rather lonely, totally -estranged from the ideas those people were expressing to each other. He -could not possibly be in sympathy with the fears and the hopes, strictly -personal, and with the royalist-legitimist enthusiasms of these -advocates of an order of things that had been buried for a quarter of a -century and now was paraded like a rouged and powdered corpse putting on -a swagger of life and revenge. Then he reflected that in this room, at -any rate, it was probably nothing but scandalous gossip and trivial talk -of futile intrigues. There was no need for him to be indignant. He was -even amused at himself, and looking about him in a kindlier frame of -mind he perceived that the person nearest to him was that strange girl -with the round eyes. She had kept perfectly still on her uncomfortable -stool like a captured savage. Her green flounced skirt was spread on -each side of the seat. The bodice of her dress, which was black, was cut -low, her bare arms were youthfully red and immature. Her hair was done -up smoothly and pulled up from her forehead in the manner of the -portraits of the 15th Century. -</p> - -<p> -"Why do they dress her in this bizarre manner?" thought Cosmo. It -couldn't be Adèle's conception. Perhaps of the Count himself. Yet that -didn't seem likely. Perhaps it was her own atrocious taste. But if so it -ought to have been repressed. He reflected that there could be nothing -improper in him talking to the niece of the house. He would try his -conversational Italian. With the feeling of venturing on a doubtful -experiment he approached her from the back, sat down at her elbow, and -waited. She could not possibly remain unaware of him being there. -</p> - -<p> -At last she turned her head for a point-blank stare, and once she had -her eyes on him she never attempted to take them away. Cosmo uttered -carefully a complimentary phrase about her dress, which was received in -perfect silence. Her carmine lips remained as still as her round black -eyes for quite a long time. Suddenly in a low tone, with an accent which -surprised Cosmo but which he supposed to be Piedmontese, and with a sort -of spiteful triumph, she said: -</p> - -<p> -"I knew very well it would suit me. You think it does?" -</p> - -<p> -Her whole personality had such an aggressive mien that Cosmo, startled -and amused, hastened to say, "Undoubtedly," lest she should fly at his -eyes. -</p> - -<p> -She showed him her teeth in a grin of savage complacency, and the -subject seemed exhausted. Cosmo set himself the task to daunt her by a -steady gaze. In less than two seconds he regretted his venture. He felt -certain that she would not be the one to look away first. There was not -the slightest doubt about that. In order to cover his retreat he let his -eyes wander vaguely about the room, smiled agreeably, and said: "Your -uncle is not here. Shall I have the pleasure of seeing him this -evening?" -</p> - -<p> -"No," she said. "You won't see him this evening. But he knows you have -been here this morning." -</p> - -<p> -This was, strictly speaking, news to Cosmo, but he said at once and with -great indifference: -</p> - -<p> -"Why shouldn't he? Probably Madame de Montevesso has told him. I used to -know your aunt when she was younger than you are, signorina." -</p> - -<p> -"How do you know how old I am?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo asked himself if she would ever wink those black eyes of hers. -</p> - -<p> -"I know that you are not a hundred years old." -</p> - -<p> -This struck her as humorous, because there was a sound as of a faint -giggle which, generally speaking, is a silly kind of sound but in her -case had a disturbing quality. It was followed by the hoarse -declaration: -</p> - -<p> -"Aunt didn't. I told Uncle. I looked a lot at you in the morning. Why -didn't you look at me?" -</p> - -<p> -"I was afraid of being indiscreet," said Cosmo readily, concealing his -astonishment. -</p> - -<p> -"What silliness," she commented scornfully. "And this evening too! I was -looking at you all the time and you did nothing but look at all those -witches here, one after another." -</p> - -<p> -"I find all the ladies in the room perfectly charming," said Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"You lie. I suppose you do nothing else from morning till night." -</p> - -<p> -"I am sorry you have such a bad opinion of me, but it being what it is, -hadn't I better go away?" -</p> - -<p> -"Directly I set eyes on you I knew you were one of that sort." -</p> - -<p> -"And did you impart your opinion of me to your uncle?" asked Cosmo. He -could be no more offended with that girl than if she had been an -unmannerly animal. Her peculiar stare remained unchanged but her general -expression softened for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -"No. But I took care to tell him that you were a very handsome -gentleman. . . . You are a very handsome gentleman." -</p> - -<p> -What surprised Cosmo was not the downright statement but the thought -that flashed through his mind that it was as dreadful as being told that -one was good to eat. For a time he stared without any thought of -unwinking competition. He was not amused. Distinctly not. He asked: -</p> - -<p> -"Where were you born?" -</p> - -<p> -"How can I tell? In the mountains, I suppose. Somewhere where you will -never go. How can it possibly concern you?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo offered his apology for his indiscretion, and she received it with -a sort of uncomprehending scorn. She said after a pause: "None of those -witches, young or old, ever speak to me. And even you didn't want to -speak to me. You only spoke to me . . . Oh, no! I know why you spoke to -me." -</p> - -<p> -"Why did I speak to you?" asked Cosmo thoughtfully. "Won't you tell me?" -</p> - -<p> -Upon the firm roundness of that high-coloured face came a subtle change -which suggested something in the nature of cunning, and the rough, -somewhat veiled voice came from between the red lips which had no more -charm or life than the painted lips carved in a piece of wood. -</p> - -<p> -"If I were to tell you would be as wise as myself." -</p> - -<p> -"Where would be the harm of me being as wise as yourself?" said Cosmo, -trying to be playful but somehow missing the tone of playfulness so -completely that he was struck by his failure himself. -</p> - -<p> -"If you were as wise as myself you would never come to this house again -and I don't want you to stay away," was the answer, delivered in a -hostile tone. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo said, "You don't! Well, at any rate it can't be because of -kindness, so I don't thank you for it." He said this with extreme -amiability. Becoming aware that people were beginning to leave, he -observed, out of the corner of his eye, that nobody went away without -glancing in their direction. Then the departure of Lady William caused a -general stir and gave Cosmo the occasion to get up and move away. Lady -William gave him a gracious nod, and the Marquis, coming up to him, -introduced him at the last moment to General Count Bubna just as that -distinguished person was making ready to take his wife away. Everybody -was standing up and for the first time Cosmo felt himself completely -unobserved. Obeying a discreet sign of the Countess Montevesso, he moved -unaffectedly in the direction of a closed door, the white and gold door -he remembered well from his morning visit. When he had got near to it -and within reach of the handle he turned about. He had the view of the -guests' backs as they moved slowly out. Adèle looked over her shoulder -for a moment with an affirmative nod. He understood it, hesitated no -longer, opened the door, and slipped through without, so far as he could -judge, being seen by anybody. -</p> - -<p> -It was as he had thought. He found himself in Madame de Montevesso's -boudoir in which he had been received that morning. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>IV</h4> - -<p> -He shut the door behind him gently and remained between it and the -screen. He had expected to be followed at once by Adèle. What could be -detaining her? But he remembered the remarkable proportions of that -suite of reception rooms. He had seen some apartments in Paris, but -nothing quite so long as that. The old Marquis would no doubt conduct -the little Madame Bubna to the very door of the anteroom. The ambassador -of The Most Christian King owed that attention to the representative of -His Apostolic Majesty and Commander-in-Chief of the Austrian troops. -This was the exact form which his thought took. The Christian King, the -Apostolic Majesty—all those submerged heads were bobbing up out of -the subsiding flood. -</p> - -<p> -He pictured them to himself in their mental simplicity and with their -grand air; the Marquis magnificent and ageing, and the dutiful daughter -by his side with her radiant head and her divine form. It was impossible -to believe that these two had also been submerged at one time. -</p> - -<p> -All those people were mere playthings, reflected Cosmo without a pang. -But who or what was playing with them? he thought further, boldly, and -remained for a moment as if amused by the marvellousness of it, in the -manner of people watching the changes on the stage. But what could have -become of them? -</p> - -<p> -She might next moment be opening the door. Could she have made him stay -behind because she wanted to speak with him alone? Why, yes, obviously. -Cosmo did not ask himself what she wanted to talk to him about. It was -no wonder that he felt, it was a subtle emotion resembling impatience -for the arrival of a promised felicity of an indefinite kind. All this -was by no means poignant. It was merely delightfully disturbing. -</p> - -<p> -"I shall have a tête-à-tête; that's clear," he thought, as he -advanced into the room. The air all around him was delightfully warm. -Whatever she would have to say would be wonderful because of her voice. -He would look her in the face. She did not intimidate him and it was -impossible to have too much of that. After all, he thought, immensely -amused, it was only Adèle, Ad—— -</p> - -<p> -His mental monologue was cut short by the shock of perceiving, seated on -the painted sofa, a man who was looking at him in perfect silence and -immobility. The fact was that Count Helion, having come into the boudoir -sooner than his wife had expected him to do, had directed his eyes to -the screen ever since he had heard the opening and the shutting of the -door. One of his hands was resting on his thigh, the other hung down -holding negligently a number of some gazette which was partly resting on -the floor. Though not very big, that piece of paper attracted Cosmo's -eyes; and it was in this way that he became aware of the brown fingers -covered with rings, of the gaunt legs encased in silk stockings, and of -the crossed feet in dress shoes with gold buckles, almost before he took -in the impression of the broad but lean face which seemed to have been -stained with walnut juice long enough for the stain to have worn down -thin, letting the native pallor come through. The same tint extended to -the bald top of the head. But what was really extraordinary was the -hair: two patches of black behind each temple, obviously dyed. The man, -as to whose identity Cosmo could have no doubt, got up, displaying the -full length of his bony frame, in a tense and soldierly stiffness -associated with cross-belts and a cowhide knapsack on the back. "A -grenadier," thought Cosmo, startled by this unexpected meeting, which -also caused him profound annoyance, as though he had been induced to -walk into a trap. What he could not understand was why the man should -make that grimace at him. It convulsed his whole physiognomy, involving -his lips, his cheeks, and his very eyes in a sort of spasm. The most -awful thing was that it stayed there. . . . "Why, it's a smile," thought -Cosmo, with sudden relief. It was so sudden that it broke into a smile -without any particular volition of his own. Thereupon the face of Count -Helion recovered its normal aspect and Cosmo heard his voice for the -first time. It proceeded from the depths of his chest. It was resonant -and blurred and portentous with an effect of stiffness somehow in accord -with the man's bearing. It informed Cosmo that Count Helion had been -waiting in the Countess's boudoir on purpose to make his acquaintance, -while in the man's eyes there was a watchfulness as though he had been -uttering a momentous disclosure and was anxious as to its effect. A -perfectly horizontal, jet-black moustache underlining the nose of Count -Helion, which was broad at the base and thin at the end, suggested comic -possibilities in that head, which had too much individuality to be -looked upon by Cosmo simply as the head of Adèle's husband; and Cosmo -hardly looked at it in that light. His hold on that fact was slippery. -He preserved his equanimity perfectly and said that he himself had -wondered whether he would have the pleasure of making the Count's -acquaintance that evening. Both men sat down. -</p> - -<p> -"My occupations kept me late to-night," said the Count. "The courier -came in." -</p> - -<p> -He pointed with his fingers to the gazette lying on the floor, and Cosmo -asked if there were any news. -</p> - -<p> -"In the gazette, no. At least nothing interesting. The world is full of -vanities and scandals, rumours of conspiracies. Very poor stuff. I don't -know any of those people the papers mention every day. That's more my -wife's affair. For years now she has spent about ten months of every -year in Paris or near Paris. I am a provincial. My interests are in the -orphanage I have founded in my native country. I am also building an -asylum for . . ." -</p> - -<p> -He got up suddenly, approached the mantelpiece in three strides, and -turned round exactly like a soldier in the ranks of a company changing -front. He was wearing a blue coat cut away in front and having a long -skirt, something recalling the cut of a uniform, though the material was -fine and there was a good deal of gold lace about it, as also on his -white satin waistcoat. Cosmo recalled the vague story he had heard about -Count de Montevesso having served in more than one army before being -given the rank of general by the King of Piedmont. The man had been -drilled. Cosmo wondered whether he had ever been caned. He was a -military adventurer of the commonest type. Some of them have been known -to return with a fortune got by pillage and intrigue and possibly even -by real talents of a sort in the service of oriental courts full of -splendours and crimes, tyrannies and treacheries and dark drama of -ambition, or love. -</p> - -<p> -"He is the very thing," Cosmo exclaimed mentally, gating at the stiff -figure leaning against the mantelpiece. Of course he got his fortune in -India. What was remarkable about him was that he had managed to get away -with his plunder, or at any rate a part of it, considerable enough to -enable him to make a figure in the world and marry Adèle d'Armand in -England. That was only because of the Revolution. In royal France he -would not have had the ghost of a chance; and even as it was, only the -odious laxity of London society in accepting rich strangers had given -him his opportunity. Cosmo, forcing himself to envisage this dubious -person as the husband of Adèle, felt very angry with the light-minded -tolerance extended to foreigners characteristic of a certain part of -London society. It was perfectly outrageous. -</p> - -<p> -"Where the devil can my wife be?" -</p> - -<p> -Those words made Cosmo start, though they had not been uttered very -loudly. Almost mechanically he answered: "I don't know," and noticed -that Count Helion was staring at him in a curiously unintelligent -manner. -</p> - -<p> -"I was really asking myself," muttered the latter and stirred uneasily, -without however taking his elbow off the mantelpiece. "It's a natural -thought since we are, God knows why, kept waiting for her here. I wasn't -aware I had spoken. Living for many years amongst people who didn't -understand any European language—I had hundreds of them in my palace -in Sindh—I got into the habit of talking aloud, strange as it may -appear to you." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Cosmo, with an air of innocence. "I suppose one acquires all -sorts of strange habits in those distant countries. We in England have a -class of men who return from India enriched. They are called nabobs. -Some of them have most objectionable habits. Unluckily their mere wealth -. . ." -</p> - -<p> -"There is nothing to compare with wealth," interrupted the other in a -soldierly voice and paused, then continued in the same tone of making a -verbal report: "When I was in England I had the privilege to know many -people of position. They were very kind to me. They didn't seem to think -lightly of wealth." -</p> - -<p> -Each phrase came curt, detached, but it was evident that the man did not -mean to be offensive. Those statements originated obviously in sincere -conviction; and after the Count had uttered them there appeared on his -forehead the horizontal wrinkles of unintelligent worry. Cosmo asked -himself whether the man before him was not really very stupid. Under the -elevated eyebrows his eyes looked worn and empty of all thought. -</p> - -<p> -"Lots of money, I mean," M. de Montevesso began again. "Not your savings -and scrapings. Money that one acquires boldly and enough of it to be -profuse with." -</p> - -<p> -"Is he going to treat me to vulgar boasting?" thought Cosmo. He wished -that Adèle would come in and interrupt this tête-à-tête which was so -very different from the one he had been expecting. -</p> - -<p> -"I daresay money is very useful," he assented, with airy scorn which he -thought might put an end to the subject. But his interlocutor persisted. -</p> - -<p> -"You can't know anything about it," he affirmed, then added -unexpectedly: "Money will give you even ideas. Lots of ideas. The worst -of it is that any one of them may turn out damnable. Well, yes. There is -of course danger in money, but what of that?" -</p> - -<p> -"It can scarcely be if it is used for good works, as you seem to use -it," said Cosmo with polite indifference. He meant it to be final, but -Count de Montevesso was not to be suppressed. -</p> - -<p> -"It leads one into worries," he said. "For instance, that orphanage of -mine, it is really a very large place. I am trying to be a benefactor to -my native province, but I want it to be in my own way. Well, since the -Restoration, the priests are trying to get hold of it. They want to turn -it to the glory of God and to the service of religion. I have seen -enough of all sorts of religions not to know what that means. No sooner -had the King entered Paris than the Bishop wrote to me pointing out that -there was no chapel and suggesting that I should build one and appoint a -chaplain. That Bishop is . . ." -</p> - -<p> -He threw up his head suddenly and Cosmo became aware of the presence of -Adèle without having heard even the rustle of her dress. He stood up -hastily. There was a short silence. -</p> - -<p> -"I see the acquaintance is made," said Adèle, looking from one to the -other. Her eyes lingered on Cosmo and then turned to her husband. "I -didn't know you would be already here. I had to help my father to his -room. I would have come at once here but he detained me." Again she -turned to Cosmo. "You will pardon me." -</p> - -<p> -"I found Count Helion here. I have not been alone for a minute," said -Cosmo. "You owe me no apologies. I was delighted to make your husband's -acquaintance, even if you were not here to introduce us to each other." -</p> - -<p> -This was said in English and Count Helion by the mantelpiece waited till -Cosmo had finished before he asked, "Where's Clelia?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have sent her to bed," said Countess de Montevesso. "Helion, my -father would like to see you this evening." -</p> - -<p> -"I am at the orders of M. le Marquis." -</p> - -<p> -The grenadier-like figure at the mantelpiece did not stir, and those -words were followed only by a slight twitch in the muscles of the face -which might have had a sardonic intention. "To-night, at once," he -repeated. "But with Mr. Latham here?" -</p> - -<p> -"Pray don't mind me, I am going away directly," said Cosmo. "It is -getting late." -</p> - -<p> -"In Italy it is never late. I hope to find you here when I return. As -the husband of a daughter of the house of D'Armand I know what is due to -the name of Latham. Am I really expected at once?" -</p> - -<p> -Adèle moved forward a step or two, speaking rapidly. "There has been -some news from Elba, or about Elba, which gives a certain concern to my -father. As you have been to the public knowledge in direct touch with -people from Elba my father would like to have your opinion." -</p> - -<p> -Count Helion changed his attitude, and leaning his shoulders against the -mantelpiece addressed himself to Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"It was the most innocent thing in the world. It was something about the -project for the exploitation of the Island of Pianosa. Napoleon sent his -treasurer here to get in touch with a banker. I am a man of affairs. The -banker consulted me—as a man who knew the spot. It's true I know the -spot, but if you hear it said that it is because of my relations with -the Dey of Algiers, pray don't believe it. I am in no way in touch with -the Barbary States." -</p> - -<p> -He made a step forward, and then another, and stood still. "You two had -better sit down and talk. Yes, sit down and talk. Renew the acquaintance -of your early youth . . . your early youth," he repeated in a faint -voice. "Those youthful friendships . . ." he made a convulsive grimace -which Cosmo had discovered to be the effect of a smile. "There is -something so charming in those youthful friendships. As to myself I -don't remember ever being youthful." He stepped out towards the door -through which Cosmo had seen Clelia enter that morning. "Let me find you -when I return, enjoying yourselves most sentimentally. Most delightful." -</p> - -<p> -His long stiff back swayed in the doorway and the door came to with a -crash. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo and Adèle looked at each other with a smile. Cosmo, hat in hand, -asked just audibly, "I suppose I had better stay?" She made an -affirmative sign and, moving away from him, put her foot on the marble -fender of the fireplace where nothing was left but hot ashes hiding a -reddish glow. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>V</h4> - -<p> -Cosmo, ill at ease, remained looking at her. He was in doubt what the -sign she had made meant, a nervous and imperious gesture, which might -have been a command for him to go or to stay. In his irresolution he -gazed at her, thinking that she was lovely to an incredible degree and -that the word "radiant" applied to her extraordinary aptness. Light -entered into her composition. And it was not the cold light of marble. -"She actually glows," he said to himself, amazed, "like ripe fruit in -the foliage, like a big flower in the shade." -</p> - -<p> -"Don't gaze at my blushes," said Madame de Montevesso in an even tone -tinged with a little mockery and a little bitterness. "Would you believe -that when I was a girl I was so shy that I used to blush crimson -whenever anybody looked at me or spoke to me? It's a failing which does -not meet with much sympathy. And yet my suffering was very real. It -would reach such a pitch at times that I was ready to cry." -</p> - -<p> -"Shall I go away?" asked Cosmo in a deadened voice. He waited for a -moment while she seemed to debate in her mind the answer to the -question. In his fear of being sent away he went on: "God knows I don't -want to leave you. And after all the Count is coming back and . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes, he is coming back. Sit down. Yes. It would be better. Sit -down. . . ." Cosmo sat down where he could see her admirable shoulders, -the roundness of her averted head, <i>coiffée en boucles</i> and girt with -a gold circlet, the shadowy retreating view of her profile. The long -drapery of her train flowed to the ground in a dark blue shimmer. . . . -"He is inevitable. He has always been inevitable," came further from her -lips which he couldn't see, for the mirror above the mantelpiece -reflected nothing but her forehead with the gold mist of her hair above. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo remained silent. For nothing in the world would he have made a -sound. He held his breath with expectation; and in the extreme tension -of his whole being the lights grew dim around him, while her white -shoulders, the thick clustering curls, the arm on which she leaned, and -the other bare arm hanging inert by her side, seemed the only source of -light in the room. -</p> - -<p> -"You don't know me at all," began the Countess de Montevesso. "I don't -charge you with forgetting; but the little you may remember of me cannot -be of any use. It is only natural that I should be a stranger to you. -But you cannot be a stranger to me. For one thing you were a boy and -then you were not a child of outcasts without a country, of refugees -with a ruined past and with no future. You were a young Latham, as -rooted in your native soil as the old trees of your park. Even then -there seemed to me something enviable about you." -</p> - -<p> -She turned her head a little to glance at him. "You had no idea what it -was like after we had gone to London. My ignorance of the world was so -profound that I felt ill at ease in it. I hoped I had an attractive -face, but I only discovered that I was pretty from the remarks of the -people in the street I overheard. I spent my life by the side of my -mother's couch. I never went out except attended by my father or by -Aglae. My only amusement was to play a game of chess now and then with -an old doctor, also a refugee, who looked after my mother, or listen to -the conversation of the people who came to see us. Amongst them there -were all the prominent men and women of the old régime. Refugees. They -seldom spoke the truth to each other, and yet they were no more stupid -than the rest of the world. Nobody could be more good-natured and better -company, more frivolous or more inconsiderate. I have seen women of the -highest rank work ten hours a day to get bread for their children, but -they also slandered one another, told falsehoods about their conduct and -their work, and quarrelled among themselves in the style of washerwomen. -Morals were even looser than in the times before the Revolution. Manners -were forgotten. Every transgression was excused in those who were -regarded as good royalists. I don't mean this to apply to the great body -of the refugees. Some of them led irreproachable lives. Round our -Princes there were some most absurd intrigues. I didn't know much of all -this, but I remember my poor father's helpless indignations and my own -appalled disgust at the things I could not help hearing and seeing." -</p> - -<p> -She turned her head to look at Cosmo. "I am telling you all this to give -you some idea of the air I had to breathe," she said in a changed tone. -"I don't think it contaminated me. I felt its odiousness; but all this -seemed without remedy. I didn't even suffer much from it. What I -suffered most from was our domestic anxieties; my mother's fears lest -the small resources we had to live on should fail us altogether. Our -daily crust of bread seemed to depend on political events in Europe, and -they were going against us. Battles, negotiations, everything. A blight -seemed to have fallen on the royalist cause. My mother didn't conceal -her distress. What touched me more still was the careworn, silent -anxiety of my poor father." -</p> - -<p> -She paused, looking at Cosmo intently, meeting his eyes fixed on her -face. "I was getting on for sixteen," she continued. "No one ever paid -the slightest attention to me. The only genuine passion in my heart was -filial love. . . . But is it any good in going on? And then I can't tell -what you may have heard already." -</p> - -<p> -"All I have heard," said Cosmo in a tone of profound respect, "is that -Adèle de Montevesso's life has been irreproachable." -</p> - -<p> -"I remember the time when all the world was doing its best to make it -impossible. Would it shock you very much if I told you that I don't care -at all about its good opinion now? There was a time when it would put -the worst construction possible on my distress, on my bewilderment, on -my very innocence." -</p> - -<p> -"Why should the world do that to you?" asked Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"Why? But I see you know nothing. I met my husband first at a select -concert that was given by the music-master of the late Queen of France. -My mother was feeling a little better and insisted on my going out a -little. Those were small fashionable affairs. I had a good voice myself, -and that evening I sang with Madame Seppio. An English gentleman—his -name doesn't matter—presented M. de Montevesso to me as a friend of -his just returned from India and anxious to be introduced to the best -society. What with my usual shyness and the unattractive appearance of -the man, I don't think I received his attentions very well. There was -really no reason I should notice him particularly. It wasn't difficult -to see that he had not the manners of a man of the world. Where could he -have acquired them? He had left his village at seventeen, he enlisted in -the Irish Regiment which served in France, then he deserted, perhaps. I -only know that some years afterwards he was a captain in the service of -Russia. From there he made his way to India. I believe the -governor-general used him as a sort of unofficial agent amongst native -princes, but he got into some scrape with the company. By what steps he -managed to get on to the back of an elephant and command the army of a -native prince I really don't know. And even if I had known then it would -not have made him more interesting in my eyes. I was relieved when he -made me a deep bow with his hand on his heart and went away. He left a -most fugitive impression, but the very next morning he sent his English -friend to ask my parents for my hand. That friend was a nobleman, a man -of honour, and the offers he was empowered to make were so generous that -my parents thought they must tell me of them. I was so astonished that -at first I couldn't speak. I simply went away and shut myself up in my -room. They were not people to press me for an answer. The poor worried -dears thought that I wouldn't even consent to contemplate this marriage; -while I, shut up in my room—I was afraid, remembering the way they -had spoken to me of that offer, that they would reject it without -consulting me any further. I sent word by Aglae that I would give my answer -next day and that I begged to be left to myself. Then I escaped from the -house, followed by Aglae, who was never so frightened in her life, and -went to see the wife of that friend of my present husband. I begged her -to send at once for General de Montevesso—at that time he called -himself General. The King of Sardinia had given him this rank in -acknowledgment of some service that his great wealth had enabled him to -render to the Court of Turin. That lady of course had many scruples -about doing something so highly unconventional, but at last, overcome by -the exaltation of my feelings, she consented." -</p> - -<p> -"She did that?" murmured Cosmo. "What an extraordinary thing!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. She did that, instead of taking me home. People will do -extraordinary things to please a man of fabulous wealth. She sent out -two or three messengers to look for him all over the town. They were -some time in finding him. I waited. I was perfectly calm. I was calmer -than I am now, telling you my story. I was possessed by the spirit of -self-sacrifice. I had no misgivings. I remember even how cold I was in -that small drawing room with a big coal fire. He arrived out of breath. -He was splendidly dressed and behaved very ceremoniously. I felt his -emotion without sharing it. I, who used to blush violently at the -smallest provocation, didn't feel the slightest embarrassment in -addressing that big stiff man so much older than myself. I could not -appreciate what a fatal mistake I was committing by telling him that I -didn't care for him in the least and probably never should; but that if -he would secure my parents' future comfort my gratitude would be so -great that I could marry him, without reluctance and be his loyal friend -and wife for life. He stood there stiff and ominous and told me that he -didn't flatter himself with the possibility of inspiring any deeper -feeling. -</p> - -<p> -"We stood there facing each other for a bit. I felt nothing but an -inward glow of satisfaction at having, as I thought, acted honourably. -As to him I think he was simply made dumb with rage. At last he bowed -with his hands on his heart and said that he would not even ask now for -the favour of kissing my hand. I appreciated his delicacy at that -moment. It would have been an immense trial to my shyness. I think now -that he was simply afraid of putting my hand to his lips lest he should -lose his self-control and bite it. He told me later, in one of those -moments when people don't care what they say, that at that moment he -positively hated me, not the sight of me, you understand, but my -aristocratic insolence." -</p> - -<p> -She paused, and in the youthful sincerity of his sympathy Cosmo uttered -a subdued exclamation of distress. Madame de Montevesso looked at him -again and then averted her face. -</p> - -<p> -"I heard afterwards some gossip to the effect that he had been jilted by -a girl to whom he was engaged, the daughter of some captain on half-pay, -and that he proposed to me simply to show her that he could find a girl -prettier, of higher rank, and in every way more distinguished that would -consent to be his wife. I believe that it was this that prevented him -from drawing back before my frankness. As to me, I went home, seeing -nothing, hearing nothing, caring for nothing, as though I had done with -the world, as though I had taken the veil. I can find no other -comparison for the peace that was in me. I faced my mother's reproaches -calmly. She was of course very much hurt at my not confiding in her at -this crisis of my life. My father, too. But how could I have confided in -them in this matter on which their security and welfare depended? How -could I have confided in any of the men and women around me who seemed -to me as if mad, whose conduct and opinions I despised with youthful -severity as foolish and immoral? There was one human being in the world -in whom I might perhaps have confided, that perhaps would have -understood me. That was your father, Cosmo. But he was three hundred -miles away. There was no time. Tell me, did he understand? Has he cast -me out of his thoughts for ever?" -</p> - -<p> -"My father," said Cosmo, "has lived like a hermit for years. There was -nothing to make him forget you. Yes, he was a man in whom you could have -confided. He would have understood you. That doesn't mean to say that he -would have approved. I wish he had been by your side. He would have -brought pressure on your parents with the authority of an old and tried -friend." -</p> - -<p> -"And benefactor," struck in the Countess de Montevesso. "My father, I -believe, had an inkling of the truth. He begged me again and again to -think well of what I was doing. I told him that I was perfectly -satisfied with what I had done. It was perfectly true then. I had -satisfied my conscience by telling my suitor that I could never love -him. I felt strangely confident that I could fulfil the duties of my new -position, and I was absorbed by the happiness of having saved my parents -from all anxiety for the future. I was not aware of having made any -sacrifice. Probably if I had been twenty or more I would have been less -confident; perhaps I wouldn't have had the courage! But at that age I -didn't know that my whole life was at stake. Three weeks afterwards I -was married. -</p> - -<p> -"As you see, there was no time lost. During that period our intercourse -was of the most formal kind only I never even attempted to observe him -with any attention. He was very stiff and ceremonious, but he was in a -hurry, because I believe he was afraid from his previous experience that -I would change my mind. His usual answer to the expression of all my wishes -and to most of my speeches was a profound bow—and, sometimes, I -was amused. In the lightness of my heart a thought would come to me that -a lifetime on such terms would be a funny affair. I don't say he -deceived me in anything. He had brought an immense fortune out of India -and the world took him at its face value. With no more falsehood than -holding his tongue and watching his behaviour he kept me in the dark -about his character, his family, his antecedents, his very name. When we -first were married he was ostentatious and rather mean at the same time. -His long life in India added the force of oriental jealousy to that -which would be in a sense natural to a man of his age. Moreover, his -character was naturally disagreeable. The only way he could make the -power of his great fortune felt was by hurting the feelings of other -people, of his servants, of his dependents, of his friends. His wife -came in for her share. An older and cleverer woman with a certain power -of deception and caring for the material pleasures of life could have -done better for herself and for him in the situation in which I was -placed, but I, almost a child, with an honest and proud character and -caring nothing for what wealth could give, I was perfectly helpless. I -was being constantly surprised and shocked by the displays of evil -passions and his fits of ridiculous jealousy which were expressed in -such a coarse manner that they could only arouse my resentment and -contempt. -</p> - -<p> -"Meantime we lived in great style—dinner parties, concerts. I had a -very good voice. I daresay he was anxious enough to show off his latest -acquisition, but at the same time he could not bear me being looked at -or even spoken to. A fit of oriental jealousy would come over him, -especially when I had been much applauded. He would express his feelings -to me in barrack-room language. At last, one evening he made a most -scandalous scene before about two hundred guests, and then went out of -the house, leaving me to make the best of it before all those people. It -caused the greatest possible scandal. The party of course broke up. I -spent the rest of the night sitting in my bedroom, too overcome to take -off my splendid dress and those jewels with which he always insisted I -should bedeck myself. With the first signs of dawn he returned, and -coming up into my room found me sitting there. He told me then that -living with me was too much of a torture for him and proposed I should -go back to my parents for a time. -</p> - -<p> -"We had been married for a little over a year then. For the first time -since the wedding I felt really happy. They, poor dears, were delighted. -We were all so innocent together that we thought this would be the end -of all our troubles, that the man was chivalrous enough to have seen his -mistake in the proper light, and to bear the consequences nobly. Hadn't -I told him I could never love him, exactly in so many words? -</p> - -<p> -"I ought to have known that he was incapable of any generosity. As a -matter of fact I didn't think much about it. I, who had overcome my -shyness enough to become, young as I was, a perfect hostess in a world -which I knew so little—because after all that sort of thing was in my -tradition—I was really too stupid, too unsophisticated for those ten -months to have been a lesson to me. I had learned nothing, any more than -one learns from a nightmare or from a period of painful illness. I -simply breathed freely. I became again the old Adèle. I dismissed M. de -Montevesso from my thoughts as though he had never lived. Can you -believe this, Cosmo? It is astonishing how facts can fail to impress -one; brutalities, abuse, scenes of passion, mad exhibitions of jealousy, -as long as they do not attack your conception of your moral personality. -All this fell off me like a poisoned robe, leaving hardly a smart -behind. I raised my head like a flower after a thunderstorm. Don't think -my character is shallow, Cosmo. There were depths in me that could be -reached, but till then I had been only tormented, shocked, surprised, -but hardly even frightened. It was he who had suffered. But my turn was -to come." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't think you were ever a person of shallow feelings." -</p> - -<p> -"One's feelings must mature like everything else, and I assure you I had -not yet stopped growing. The next six months were to finish my -education. For by that time I had lost all my illusions. While I was -breathing freely between my father and mother, forgetting the world -around us, Montevesso was going about the town with his complaints and -his suspicions; regretting he had let me go and enraged that I should -have gone from him so easily. And you may be sure he found sympathizers. -A rich man, you understand! Who could refuse sympathy to so much wealth? -He was obviously a much ill-used man, all the faults of course were on -my side; in less than a month I found myself the centre of underhand -intrigues and the victim of a hateful persecution. Friends, relatives, -mere acquaintances in the world of emigration entered M. de Montevesso's -service. They spied on my conduct and tampered with the servants. There -were assemblies in his house where my character was torn to shreds. Some -of those good friends offered him their influence in Rome for the -annulation of the marriage, for a consideration of course. Others -discovered flaws in the marriage contract. They invented atrocious -tales. There were even horrid verses made about that scandal; till at -last he himself became disgusted with the wretches and closed his house -and his purse to them. Years later he showed me a note of their names -and the amounts paid for all those manifestations of sympathy. He must -have been impressed and disgusted by the retrospect, because it was a -big lot of money. As to the names, they were aristocratic enough to -flatter his plebeian pride. He showed the list to me just to hurt my -feelings. -</p> - -<p> -"Some sinners have been stoned, but I, an innocent girl of seventeen, -had been pelted with mud beyond endurance. It was impossible to induce -him to come to any sort of arrangement that would leave me in peace. All -the world, influenced by his paid friends, was against me. What could I -do? Calumnies are hard to bear. Harder than truth. Even my parents -weakened. He promised to make amends. Of course I went back to him, as -one would crawl out of the mud amongst clean thorns that can but tear -one's flesh. He received me back with apologies that were as nearly -public as such things can be. It was a vindication of my character. But -directly he had me with him again he gave way to his fits of hatred as -before, such hatred as only black jealousy can inspire. It was terrible. -For even jealousy has its gradations, coloured by doubts and hopes, and -his was the worst, the hopeless kind, since he could never forget my -honest declaration." -</p> - -<p> -The Countess of Montevesso's voice died out and then Cosmo looked up. -She was a little pale, which made her eyes appear darker than ever he -had seen them before. Cosmo was too young yet to understand the full -meaning of this confession, but his very youth invested the facts with a -sort of romantic grandeur, while the woman before him felt crushed by -the feelings of their squalid littleness. Without looking at him she -said: -</p> - -<p> -"We went travelling for a year and a half, stayed for a time in Paris, -where he began to make me scenes again, and then we went oh to Italy. -The pretext was to make me known to some of his relations. I don't -believe he could remember his mother, and his father, an old dealer in -rabbit skins, I believe, had died some time before. As to the rest, I -think his heart failed him notwithstanding the brutal pride he used at -times to display to me. He took me to see some decayed people living in -old ruined houses whom I verily believe he bribed to pass for his more -distant connections. It was a pilgrimage amongst the most squalid shams, -something that you cannot conceive, yet I didn't rebel against the -horrible humiliation of it. It was part of the bargain. Sometimes I -thought that he would kill me in one of those wild places in some lost -valley where the people, only a degree removed from peasants in their -dress and speech, fawned upon him as the wealthy cousin and benefactor. -I am certain that during those wanderings he was half distracted. It was -I who went through all this unmoved. But I don't suppose my life was -ever in any danger. At that time none of his moods lasted long enough to -let him carry out any definite purpose. And then he is not a man of -criminal instincts. After all, he is perhaps a great adventurer. He has -commanded armies of a hundred thousand men. He has in a sense faced the -power of England in India. The very fact that he had managed to get out -of it with so much wealth and with quite a genuine reputation shows that -there is something in him. I don't know whether it's that obtained for -him a very gracious reception from Bonaparte when he dragged me back to -Paris." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>VI</h4> - -<p> -Madame de Montevesso paused, looking at the white ashes in which the -sparks had not died out yet. "Yes," she went on, "I lived near Paris -through the whole time of the Empire. I had a charming house in the -country. Monsieur de Montevesso had established me in a style which he -considered worthy of himself if not of me. He could never forgive me for -being what I am. He was tolerated by the returned emigration for my -sake, but he grew weary of his own unhappiness and resolved to live by -himself in his own province where he could be a great personage. Perhaps -he is not altogether a bad man. He consented eagerly to my parents, who -had obtained permission to return to France, joining me in the country. -I tasted again some happiness in the peace of our semi-retired life and -in their affection. Our world was that of old society, the world of -returned nobles. They hated and despised the imperial power, but most of -them were ready to cringe before it. Yes, even the best were overawed by -the real might under the tinsel of that greatness. Our circle was very -small and composed of convinced royalists, but I could not share their -hatreds and their contempts. I felt myself a Frenchwoman. I had liberal -ideas. . . ." -</p> - -<p> -She noticed Cosmo's eyes fixed on her with eager and friendly curiosity, -and paused with a faint smile. -</p> - -<p> -"You understand me, Cosmo?" she asked. The latter gave a little nod -without detaching his eyes from the face which seemed to him to glow -with the light of generous feelings, but already Madame de Montevesso -was going on. -</p> - -<p> -"I did not want to be patronized by all those returned duchesses who -wanted to teach me how to feel and how to behave. Their own behaviour -was a mixture of insolence and self-seeking before that government which -they feared and despised. I didn't fear it but neither could I despise -it. My heart was heavy during all those years but it was not downcast. -All Europe was aflame and the blaze scorched and dazzled and filled one -with awe and with forebodings; but then one always heard that fire -purifies all which it cannot destroy. The world would perhaps come out -better from it." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, it's all over," said Cosmo, "and what has it done? The smoke -hangs about yet and I cannot see, but how do you feel?" -</p> - -<p> -Madame de Montevesso, leaning on her elbow on the mantelpiece, with one -foot on the fender, looked down at the ashes in which a spark gleamed -here and there. -</p> - -<p> -"I feel a little cold," she said, "and dazed perhaps. One doesn't know -where to look." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo got up and made a step forward. His voice, however, was subdued. -"Formerly there was a man." -</p> - -<p> -"A man, yes. One couldn't help looking towards him. There was something -unnatural in that uniqueness, but do you know, Cosmo, the man was -nothing. You smile, you think you hear a royalist speaking, a woman full -of silly aristocratic prejudice; a woman who sees only a small Corsican -squire who hadn't even the sense to catch the opportunity by the hair as -it flew by and be the restorer of the Bourbon dynasty. You imagine all -that of me! . . . Of me!" -</p> - -<p> -She kept her pose, desolate, as if looking down at the ashes of a -burnt-up world. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't think you could be stupid if you tried," he said. "But if the -man was nothing, then what has done it?" -</p> - -<p> -Madame de Montevesso remained silent for a while before murmuring the -word "Destiny," and only then turned her head slightly towards Cosmo. -"What are you staring at in that corner?" she asked, after another -period of silence. -</p> - -<p> -"Was I staring?" he said with a little start. "I didn't know. Your words -evoked a draped figure with an averted head." -</p> - -<p> -"Then it wasn't that," she said, looking at him with friendly eyes. -"Whatever your fancy might have seen it was not Destiny. One must live a -very long time to see even the hem of her robe. Live a very, very long -time," she repeated in a tone of such weariness, tinged by fear, that -Cosmo felt impelled to step forward, take up the hand that hung by her -side, and press it to his lips. When released, it fell slowly to its -previous position. But Madame de Montevesso did not move. -</p> - -<p> -"That's very nice," she said. "It was a movement of sympathy. I have had -very little of that in my life. There is something in me that does not -appeal to the people with whom I live. My father, of course, loves me; -but that is not quite the same thing. Your father, I believe, -sympathized with the child and I am touched to see that the son seems to -understand something of the woman; of an almost old woman." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo would have been amused at the tone of unaffected conviction in -which she called herself an old woman had it not been for the profound -trouble on that young face bent downwards, and at the melancholy grace -of the whole attitude of that woman who had once been the child Adèle; -a foreign, homeless child, sheltered for a moment by the old walls of -his ancestral home, and the sharer of its life's stately intimacies. -</p> - -<p> -"No," he said, marvelling that so much bitter experience should have -been the lot of such a resplendent figure. "No. Destiny works quickly -enough. We are both still young, and yet think of what we have already -seen." -</p> - -<p> -He fancied she had shuddered a little. He felt ashamed at the thought of -what she had lived through, how she had been affected in her daily life -by what to him had been only a spectacle after all, though his country -had played its part, the impressive part of a rock upraising its head -above the flood. But he continued: "Why, the Man of Destiny himself is -young yet. You must have seen him many times." -</p> - -<p> -"No. Once or twice a year I went to the Tuileries in the company of some -reconciled royalist ladies and very much against my wish. It was -expected from Madame de Montevesso and I always came away thankful to -think that it was over for a time. You could hardly imagine how dull -that Empire time was. All hopes were crushed. It was like a dreadful -overdressed masquerade with the everlasting sound of the guns in the -distance. Every year I spent a month with my husband to save -appearances. That was in the bond. He used then to invite all the -provincial grandees for a series of dinners. But even in the provinces -one felt the sinister moral constraint of that imperial glory. No doubt -all my movements were noticed and recorded by the proper people. -Naturally I saw the Emperor several times. I saw him also in theatres, -in his carriage driving about, but he spoke to me only once." -</p> - -<p> -"Only once!" exclaimed Cosmo under his breath. -</p> - -<p> -"You may imagine I tried to make myself as inconspicuous as possible, -and I did not belong to the Court. It was on the occasion of a ball -given to the Princess of Baden. There was an enormous crowd. Early in -the evening I found myself standing in the front row in the Galerie de -Diane between two women who were perfect strangers to me. By and by the -Court came in, the Empress, the Princess, the Chamberlains in full -dress, and took their place on a platform at the end. In the intervals -of dancing the Emperor came down alone, speaking only to the women. He -wore his imperial dress of red velvet, laced in all the seams, with -white satin breeches, with diamonds on the hilt of his sword and the -buckles of his shoes and on his cap with white plumes. It was a -well-designed costume but with his short thick figure and the clumsiness -of his movements he looked to me frightful and like a mock king. When he -came opposite me he stopped. I am certain he knew who I was, but he -asked me my name. I told him. -</p> - -<p> -"'Your husband lives in his province?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Yes, sire.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Your husband employs much labour, I hear. I am grateful to him for -giving work to the people. This is the proper use of wealth. Hasn't he -served in the English army in India?' -</p> - -<p> -"His tone was friendly. I said I didn't know that, but I did know that -he had fought against them there. -</p> - -<p> -"He smiled in a fascinating manner and said, 'That's very possible. A -soldier of fortune. He is a native of Piedmont, is he not?' -</p> - -<p> -"'Yes, sire.' -</p> - -<p> -"'But you are French, entirely French. We have a claim on you. How old -are you?' -</p> - -<p> -"I told him. He said, 'You look younger.' Then he came nearer to me and, -speaking in a confidential tone, said, 'You have no children. I know. I -know. It isn't your fault, but you should try to make some other -arrangement. Believe me, I am giving you good advice.' -</p> - -<p> -"I was dumb with astonishment. He gave me again a very gracious smile -and went on. That is the only conversation I ever had with the Emperor." -</p> - -<p> -She fell silent with downcast eyes, then she added: "It was very -characteristic of him." Cosmo was mainly struck by the fact that he knew -so little of her, that this was the first intimation he had of the -Montevessos being childless. He had never asked himself the question -before, but this positive if indirect statement was agreeable to him. -</p> - -<p> -"I did not make any other arrangements," began Madame de Montevesso with -a slightly ironic intonation. "I was only too thankful to be left alone. -At the time the Russian campaign began I paid my annual visit to -Monsieur de Montevesso. Except for the usual entertainments to local -people I was alone with Count Helion, and as usual when we were quite -alone he behaved in a tolerable way. There was nobody and nothing that -could arouse his jealousy and the dormant hatred he nurses for me deep -down in his heart. We had only the slight discussion, at the end of -which he admitted, gnashing his teeth, that he had nothing to reproach -me with except that I was what I was. I told him I could not help it and -that as things were he ought rather to congratulate himself on that -fact. He gave me only a black look. He can restrain himself wonderfully -when he likes. Upon the whole I had a quiet time. I played and sang to -myself, I read a little, I took long walks, I rode almost every day, -attended by Bernard. That wasn't so agreeable. You remember Bernard?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo nodded. -</p> - -<p> -"For years he had been a very devoted and faithful servant to us but I -suppose he, too, like so many of his betters, fell under the spell of -Monsieur de Montevesso's wealth. When my parents rejoined me in France -he had his wish at last and married Aglae, my mulatto maid. He was quite -infatuated with her and now he makes her terribly wretched. She is -really devoted to me, and there cannot be any doubt that Bernard has -been bribed by my husband to play the part of a spy. It seems incredible -but I have had it from the Count in so many words. Bernard let himself -be corrupted years ago, when M. de Montevesso first sent me back to my -parents in a rage and next day was nearly out of his mind with agony at -having done so. Yes, it dates as far back as that. That man so faithful -to us in our misfortunes allowed himself to be bought with the greatest -ease. Everybody, from the highest to the lowest, was in a conspiracy -against a poor girl whose only sin was her perfect frankness. When -Bernard came over to France with my parents I was already aware of this, -but Aglae wanted to marry him and so I said nothing. She probably would -not have believed me then." -</p> - -<p> -"And could you bear that wretch near you all those years?" exclaimed -Cosmo, full of indignation. She smiled sadly. She had borne the -disclosure and had kept the secret of greater infamies. She had all her -illusions about rectitude destroyed so early that it did not matter to -her now what she knew of the people about her. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, Cosmo," she exclaimed suddenly, "I am a hardened woman now, but I -assure you that sometimes when I remember the girl of sixteen I was, -without an evil thought in her head and in her ignorance surrounded by -the basest slanderers and intrigues, tears come into my eyes. And since -the baseness of selfish passions I have seen seething round the -detestable glory of that man in Elba, it seems to me that there is -nowhere any honesty on earth—nowhere!" The energy of that outburst, -contrasted with the immobility of the pose, gave to Cosmo the sensation -of a chill. -</p> - -<p> -"I will not mention us two," said Cosmo, "herein this room. But I know -of at least two honest men on earth. They are your father and mine. Why -didn't you write to Father, Adèle?" -</p> - -<p> -"I tell you I was a child. What could I write to him? Hasn't he retired -out of the world for so many years only not to see and not to hear? -That's one of your honest men. And as to my poor father, who is the soul -of honour, such is the effect of long misfortune on the best characters -and of temptations associated with his restored rank, that there have -been moments when I watched his conduct with dread. Caste prejudices are -an awful thing, but thank God he had never a thought of vengeance in his -mind. He is not a courtier." -</p> - -<p> -"I have heard about it," interrupted Cosmo, "from the Marquis himself. -He is a dear old man." -</p> - -<p> -The two by the mantelpiece exchanged dim smiles. -</p> - -<p> -"I had to come here with him," said Adèle. "He cannot do without me. I -too was glad to get away from the evil passions and the hopeless -stupidities of all the people that had come back without a single -patriotic feeling, without a single new idea in their heads, like -merciless spectres out of a grave, hating the world to which they had -returned. They had forgotten nothing and learned nothing." -</p> - -<p> -"I have seen something of that myself," murmured Cosmo. "But the world -can't be put back where it was before you and I were born." -</p> - -<p> -"No! But to see them trying to do it was intolerable. Then my husband -appeared on the scene, hired this Palazzo, and insisted on us all living -here. It was impossible to raise a rational objection to that. Father -was never aware of half I went through in my life. I learned early to -suppress every expression of feeling. But in the main we understand each -other without talking. When he received Count Helion's letter offering -us this house he just looked at me and said, 'I suppose we must.' For my -part, I go through life without raising any objections to anything. One -has to preserve one's dignity in some way; and is there another way open -to me? Yes, I have made up my mind; but I must tell you, Cosmo, that -notwithstanding that amazing tour we made ten years ago amongst M. de -Montevesso's problematic relations, those two sisters and that niece -have been a perfect novelty to me. I only hope I never betrayed my -surprise or any feeling at all about it." The Countess raised her eyes -to Cosmo's face. "I have spoken of it to you as I have never spoken to -anybody in my life, because of old memories which are so much to me and -because I could not mistrust anybody of your name. Have you been wearied -by this long tale?" -</p> - -<p> -"No," said Cosmo. "But have you thought how it is going to end?" -</p> - -<p> -"To end?" she said in a startled tone which affected Cosmo profoundly. -"To end? What do you mean? Everything is ended already." -</p> - -<p> -"I was thinking of your endurance," said Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"Do I look worn out?" she asked. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo raised his head and looked at her steadily. The impression of her -grace and her strength filled his breast with an admiring and almost -oppressive emotion. He could find nothing to say, not knowing what was -uppermost in his mind, pity or admiration, mingled with a vague anger. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, what do you see in my face?" -</p> - -<p> -"I never have seen such serenity on any face," said Cosmo. "How sure of -itself your soul must be!" -</p> - -<p> -Her colour became heightened for a moment, her eyes darkened as she said -in a grateful tone, "You are right, Cosmo. My face is not a mask." -</p> - -<p> -But he hardly heard her. He was lost in wonder at the sudden disorder of -his thoughts. When he regained his mental composure he noticed that -Madame de Montevesso seemed to be listening. -</p> - -<p> -"I wonder whether the Count is still with my father," she said. "Ring -that bell on the table at your hand, Cosmo." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo did so and they waited, looking at each other. Presently the door -swung open, and at the same time the cartel above it began to strike the -hour. Cosmo counted eleven and then Madame de Montevesso spoke to -Bernard, who waited in silence. -</p> - -<p> -"Is M. le Comte still with my father?" -</p> - -<p> -"I haven't seen him come out yet, Madame la Comtesse." -</p> - -<p> -"Tell your wife not to wait for me, Bernard." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Madame la Comtesse." Bernard backed out respectfully through the -door. -</p> - -<p> -"How fat he is, and what sleek hair," marvelled Cosmo. "And what a -solemn manner. No wonder I did not recognize him at once. He showed me -into your father's room, you know. He looks a Special Envoy's -confidential man all over. And to think that he is your household spy! I -wonder at your patience." -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps if I had anything to conceal I would have had less patience -with the spy," she said, equably. "I believe that when we lived in Paris -he wrote every week to M. de Montevesso, because, you know, he can write -quite well. I wonder what he found to write about. Lists of names, I -suppose. Or perhaps his own views of the people who called with bits of -overheard conversations." -</p> - -<p> -"It's incredible," murmured Cosmo. "It's fantastic. What contempt he -must have for your husband." -</p> - -<p> -"The most remarkable thing," said Madame de Montevesso, "is that I am -convinced that he doesn't write any lies." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Cosmo, "I assume that. And do you mean that the Count is -paying him every week for that sort of thing. It's an ugly farce." -</p> - -<p> -"Don't you think," said the Countess, "that something serious may come -of it some day?" Cosmo made a hopeless gesture. -</p> - -<p> -"The man you married is mad," he said with intense conviction. -</p> - -<p> -"There have been times when I felt as if I were mad myself," murmured -Madame de Montevesso. "Take up your hat," she added quickly. -</p> - -<p> -She had heard footsteps outside the door. A moment after, Count Helion -came in and fixed his black glance on his wife and Cosmo. He did not -open his lips and remained ominously by the door for a time. The strain -of the silence was made sinister by the stiff bearing of the man, the -immobility of the carven brown face, crossed by the inky-black moustache -in harsh contrast with the powdered head. He might have been a sergeant -come at the stroke of the hour to tell those two people that the firing -squad was waiting for them outside the door. Madame de Montevesso broke -the dumb spell. -</p> - -<p> -"I did my best to entertain Mr. Latham, but we had given you up. He was -just going." -</p> - -<p> -She glanced serenely at Cosmo, whom the sweetness of her tone, her easy -self-possession before that barrack-room figure, stung to the heart. At -that moment no words could have expressed the intensity of his hatred -for the Count of Montevesso, at whom he was looking with a smile of the -utmost banality. The latter moved forward stiffly. -</p> - -<p> -"Your father hopes you will see him for a moment presently," he said to -his wife. "He has not gone to bed yet." -</p> - -<p> -"Then I will go to him at once." -</p> - -<p> -Madame de Montevesso extended her hand to Cosmo, who raised the tips of -her fingers to his lips ceremoniously. -</p> - -<p> -"I will see Mr. Latham out," said the Count, bowing to his wife, who -went out of the room without looking at him. Cosmo, following her with -his eyes, forgot Count Helion's existence. He forgot it so thoroughly -that it was with a perceptible start that he perceived the Count's eyes -fixed on him in an odd way. "He will never look at ease anywhere," -thought Cosmo scornfully. A great part of his hatred had evaporated. "I -suppose he means to be pilot. I wonder how he looked on the back of an -elephant." -</p> - -<p> -"It was very good of you to wait so long for my return," said Count -Helion. "I have been detained by an absurd discussion arising out of -probably false reports." -</p> - -<p> -"The time passed quickly," said truthful Cosmo; but, before the black -weary glance of the other, hastened to add with assumed care, "We talked -of old times." -</p> - -<p> -"Old times," repeated Count Helion without any particular accent. "My -wife is very young yet, though she must be older than you are. Isn't she -older?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo said curtly that he really did not know. When they were running -about as children together she was the tallest of the three. -</p> - -<p> -"And now," took up the inexpressive voice of Count de Montevesso, -"without her high heels she would be a little shorter than you. As you -stood together you looked to me exactly the same height. And so you -renewed the memories of your youth. They must have been delightful." -</p> - -<p> -"They were no doubt more delightful for me than they could have been for -Mme. la Comtesse," said Cosmo, making a motion towards taking leave. -</p> - -<p> -"A moment. Let me have the honour to see you out." Count Helion walked -round the room blowing out the candles in three candelabras in -succession and taking up the fourth in his hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Why take this trouble?" protested Cosmo. "I know my way." -</p> - -<p> -"Every light has been extinguished in the reception rooms; or at least -ought to have been. I detest waste of all kinds. It is perhaps because I -have made my own fortune, and by God's favour it is so considerable in -its power for good that it requires the most careful management. It is -perhaps a peculiar point of view, but I have explained it to Mme. de -Montevesso." -</p> - -<p> -"She must have been interested," muttered Cosmo between his teeth, -following across the room and round the screen the possessor of these -immensely important riches, who, candelabra in hand, preceded him by a -pace or two and threw open the door behind the screen. Cosmo, crossing -in the wake of Count Helion the room of the evening reception, saw dimly -the disarranged furniture about the mantelpiece, the armchair in which -Lady William had sat, the great sofa in which little Countess Bubna had -been shyly ensconced, the card table with the chairs pushed back and all -the cards in a heap in the middle. The swaying flames of the candles, -leaping from one long strip of mirror to another, preceded him into the -next salon where all the furniture stood ranged expectantly against the -walls. The next two salons were exactly alike except for the colour of -the hangings and the size of the pictures on the walls. As to their -subjects, Cosmo could not make them out. -</p> - -<p> -Not a single lackey was to be seen in the anteroom of white walls and -red benches; but Cosmo was surprised at the presence of a peasant-like -woman, who must have been sitting there in the dark for some time. The -light of the candelabra fell on the gnarled hands lying in her lap. The -edge of a dark shawl shaded her features with the exception of her -ancient chin. She never stirred. Count Helion, disregarding her as -though she had been invisible, put down the candelabra on a little table -and wished Cosmo good-night with a formal bow. At the same time he -expressed harshly the hope of seeing Cosmo often during his stay in -Genoa. Then with an unexpected attempt to soften his tone he muttered -something about his wife—"the friend of your childhood." -</p> - -<p> -The allusions exasperated Cosmo. The more he saw of the grown woman, the -less connection she seemed to have with the early Adèle. The contrast -was too strong. He felt tempted to tell M. de Montevesso that he by no -means cherished that old memory. The nearest he came to it was the -statement that he had the privilege to hear much of Madame de Montevesso -in Paris. M. de Montevesso, contemplating now the dark peasant-like -figure huddled up on the crimson seat against a white wall, hastened to -turn towards Cosmo the black weariness of his eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"Mme. de Montevesso has led a very retired life during the Empire. Her -conduct was marked by the greatest circumspection. But she is a person -of rank. God knows what gossip you may have heard. The world is -censorious." -</p> - -<p> -Brusquely Cosmo stepped out into the outer gallery. Listening to M. de -Montevesso was no pleasure. The Count accompanied him as far as the head -of the great staircase and stayed to watch his descent with a face that -expressed no more than the face of a soldier on parade, till, all at -once, his eyes started to roll about wildly as if looking for some -object he could snatch up and throw down the stairs at Cosmo's head. But -this lasted only for a moment. He reëntered the anteroom quietly and -busied himself in closing and locking the door with care. After doing -this he approached the figure on the bench and stood over it silently. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>VII</h4> - -<p> -The old woman pushed back her shawl and raised her wrinkled soft face -without much expression to say: -</p> - -<p> -"The child has been calling for you for the last hour or more." -</p> - -<p> -Helion de Montevesso walked all the length of the anteroom and back -again; then stood over the old woman as before. -</p> - -<p> -"You know what she is," she began directly the Count had stopped. "She -won't give us any rest. When she was little one could always give her a -beating but now there is no doing anything with her. You had better come -and see for yourself." -</p> - -<p> -"Very unruly?" asked the Count de Montevesso. -</p> - -<p> -"She is sixteen," said the old woman crisply, getting up and moving -towards the stairs leading to the upper floor. A stick that had been -lying concealed in the folds of her dress was now in her hand. She -ascended the stairs more nimbly than her appearance would have led one -to expect, and the Count of Montevesso followed her down a long -corridor, where at last the shuffle of her slippers and the tapping of -her stick ceased in front of a closed door. A profound silence reigned -in this remote part of the old palace which the enormous vanity of the -upstart had hired for the entertainment of his wife and his -father-in-law in the face of the restored monarchies of Europe. The old -peasant woman turned to the stiff figure which, holding the candelabra -and in its laced coat, recalled a gorgeous lackey. -</p> - -<p> -"We have put her to bed," she said, "but as to holding her down in it, -that was another matter. Maria is strong but she got weary of it at -last. We had to send for Father Paul. Shameless as she is she would not -attempt to get out of her bed in her nightdress before a priest. The -Father promised to stay till we could fetch you to her, so I came down, -but I dared not go further than the anteroom. A valet told me you had -still a guest with you, so I sent him away and sat down to wait. The -wretch to revenge himself on me put out the lights before he went." -</p> - -<p> -"He shall be flung out to-morrow," said M. de Montevesso in a low tone. -</p> - -<p> -"I hope I have done nothing wrong, Helion." -</p> - -<p> -"No," said M. de Montevesso in the same subdued tone. He lent his ear to -catch some slight sound on the other side of the door. But the stillness -behind it was like the stillness of a sick room to which people listen -with apprehension. The old woman laid her hand lightly on the sleeve of -the gorgeous coat. "You are a great man . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"I am," said Count Helion without exultation. -</p> - -<p> -The old woman, dragged out at the age of seventy from the depths of her -native valley by the irresistible will of the great man, tried to find -utterance for a few simple thoughts. Old age with its blunted feelings -had alone preserved her from utter bewilderment at the sudden change; -but she was overpowered by its greatness. She lived inside that palace -as if enchanted into a state of resignation. Ever since she had arrived -in Genoa, which was just five weeks ago, she had kept to the upper -floor. Only the extreme necessity of the case had induced her to come so -far downstairs as the white anteroom. She was conscious of not having -neglected her duty. -</p> - -<p> -"I did beat her faithfully," she declared with the calmness of old age -and conscious rectitude. The lips of M. de Montevesso twitched slightly. -"I did really, though often feeling too weary to raise my arm. Then I -would throw a shawl over my head and go in the rain to speak to Father -Paul. He had taught her to read and write. He is full of charity. He -would shrug his shoulders and tell me to put my trust in God. It was all -very well for him to talk like that. True that on your account I was the -greatest person for miles around. I had the first place everywhere. But -now that you made us come out here just because of your fancy to turn -the child into a Contessa, all my poor senses leave my old body. For, -you know, if I did beat her, being entrusted with your authority, -everybody else in the village waited on a turn of her finger. She was -full of pride and wilfulness then. Now since you have introduced her -amongst all these <i>grandissimi signori</i> of whom she had only heard as -one hears of angels in heaven, she seems to have lost her head with the -excess of pride and obstinacy. What is one to do? The other day on -account of something I said she fastened her ten fingers into my gray -hair. . . ." She threw her shawl off and raised her creased eyelids. . . . -"This gray hair, on the oldest head of your family, Helion. If it -hadn't been for Maria she would have left me a corpse on the floor." The -mild bearing of the old woman had a dignity of its own, but at this -point it broke down and she became agitated. -</p> - -<p> -"Many a time I sat up in my bed thinking half the night. I am an old -woman. I can read the signs. This is a matter for priests. When I was a -big girl in our village they had to exorcise a comely youth, a herdsman. -I am not fit to talk of such matters. But you, Helion, could say a word -or two to Father Paul. He would know what to do . . . or get the Bishop -. . ." -</p> - -<p> -"Amazing superstition," Count Helion exclaimed in a rasping growl. "The -days of priests and devils are gone," he went on angrily, but paused as -if struck with a sudden doubt or a new idea. The old woman shook her -head slightly. In the depths of her native valley all the days were -alike in their hopes and fears as far back as she could remember. She -did not know how she had offended her brother and emitted a sigh of -resignation. -</p> - -<p> -"What's the trouble now?" Count Helion asked brusquely. -</p> - -<p> -The old woman shrugged her shoulders expressively. Count Helion -insisted. "There must be some cause." -</p> - -<p> -"The cause, as I am a sinner, can be no other but that young signore -that came out with you and to whom you bowed so low. I didn't know you -had to bow to anybody unless perhaps to the King who has come back -lately. But then a king is anointed with holy oils! I couldn't believe -my eyes. What kind of prince was that?" She waited, screwing her eyes up -at Count Helion, who looked down at her inscrutably and at last -condescended to say: -</p> - -<p> -"That was an Englishman." -</p> - -<p> -She moaned with astonishment and alarm. A heretic! She thought no -heretic could be good-looking. Didn't they have their wickedness written -on their faces? -</p> - -<p> -"No," said Count Helion. "No man has that, and no woman, either." -</p> - -<p> -Again he paused to think. "Let us go in now," he added. -</p> - -<p> -The big room (all the rooms in that Palazzo were big unless they -happened to be mere dark and airless cupboards), which they entered as -quietly as if a sick person had been lying in there at the point of -death, contained amongst its gilt furniture also a few wooden stools and -a dark walnut table brought down from the farmhouse for the convenience -of its rustic occupants. A priest sitting in a gorgeous armchair held to -the light of a common brass oil lamp an open book, the shadow of which -darkened a whole corner of the vast space between the high walls -decorated with rare marbles, long mirrors, and heavy hangings. A few -small pieces of washing were hung out to dry on a string stretched from -a window latch to the back of a chair. A common brazier stood in the -fireplace and, near it, a gaunt, bony woman dressed in black with a -white handkerchief on her head was stirring something in a little -earthen pot. Ranged at the foot of a dais bearing a magnificent but -dismantled couch of state were two small wooden bedsteads, on one of -which lay the girl whom Cosmo knew only as "Clelia, my husband's niece," -with a hand under her cheek. The other cheek was much flushed; a tangle -of loose black hair covered the pillow. Whether from respect for the -priest or from mere exhaustion she was keeping perfectly still under her -bedclothes pulled up to her very neck so that only her head remained -uncovered. -</p> - -<p> -At the entrance of the Count the priest closed his book and stood up, -but the woman by the mantelpiece went on stirring her pot. Count Helion -returned a "<i>Bonsoir, Abbé</i>" to the priest's silent bow, put down the -candelabra on a console, and walked straight to the bedstead. The other -three people, the gaunt woman still with her pot in her hand, approached -it too but kept their distance. -</p> - -<p> -The girl Clelia remained perfectly still under the downward thoughtful -gaze of Count Helion. In that face half buried in the pillow one eye -glittered full of tears. She refused to make the slightest sound in -reply to Count Helion's questions, orders, and remonstrances. Even his -coaxings, addressed to her in the same low, harsh tone, were received in -obstinate silence. Whenever he paused he could hear at his back the old -woman whispering to the priest. At last even that stopped. Count Helion -resisted the temptation to grab all that hair on the pillow and pull the -child out of bed by it. He waited a little longer and then said in his -harsh tone: -</p> - -<p> -"I thought you loved me." -</p> - -<p> -For the first time there was a movement under the blanket. But that was -all. Count Helion turned his back on the bed and met three pairs of eyes -fixed on him with different expressions. He avoided meeting any of them. -"Perhaps if you were to leave us alone," he said. -</p> - -<p> -They obeyed in silence, but at the last moment he called the priest back -and took him aside to a distant part of the room where the brass oil -lamp stood on the walnut-wood table. The full physiognomy of Father Paul -Carpi with its thin eyebrows and pouting mouth was overspread by a -self-conscious professional placidity that seemed ready to see or hear -anything without surprise. Count de Montevesso was always impressed by -it. "Abbé," he said brusquely, "you know that my sister thinks that the -child is possessed. I suppose she means by a devil." -</p> - -<p> -He looked with impatience at the priest, who remained silent, and burst -out in a subdued voice: -</p> - -<p> -"I believe you people are hoping now to bring him back into the world -again, that old friend of yours." He waited for a moment. "Sit down, -Abbé." -</p> - -<p> -Father Carpi sank into the armchair with some dignity while Count Helion -snatched a three-legged stool and planted himself on it on the other -side of the table. "Now, wouldn't you?" -</p> - -<p> -Something not bitter, not mocking, but as if disillusioned seemed to -touch the lips of Father Carpi at the very moment he opened them to say -quietly: -</p> - -<p> -"Only as a witness to the reign of God." -</p> - -<p> -"Which of course would be your reign. Never mind, a man like me can be -master under any reign." He jerked his head slightly towards the bed. -"Now what sort of devil would it be in that child?" -</p> - -<p> -The deprecatory gesture of Father Carpi did not detract from his -dignity. "I should call it dumb myself," continued Count Helion. "We -will leave it alone for a time. What hurts me often is the difficulty of -getting at your thoughts, Abbé. Haven't I been a good enough friend to -you?" To this, too, Father Carpi answered by a deferential gesture and -deprecatory murmur. Count Helion had restored the church, rebuilt the -presbytery, and had behaved generally with great munificence. Father -Carpi, sprung from shopkeeping stock in the town of Novi, had lived -through times difficult for the clergy. He had been contented to exist. -Now, at the age of forty or more, the downfall of the Empire, which -seemed to carry with it the ruin of the impious forces of the -Revolution, had awakened in him the first stirrings of ambition. Its -immediate object was the chaplaincy to the Count of Montevesso's various -charitable foundations. -</p> - -<p> -There was a man, one of the great of this world, whom, without -understanding him in any deeper sense or ever trying to judge his -nature, he could see plainly enough to be unhappy. And that was a great -point. -</p> - -<p> -For the unhappy are more amenable to obscure influences, religious and -others. But Father Carpi was too intelligent to intrude upon the griefs -of that man with the mysterious past either religious consolation or -secular advice. For a long time now he had watched and waited, keeping -his thoughts so secret that they seemed even hidden from himself. To the -outbreaks of that rough, arrogant, contemptuous, and oppressive temper -he could oppose only the gravity of his sacerdotal character as Adèle -did her lofty serenity, that detachment, both scornful and inaccessible, -which seemed to place her on another plane. -</p> - -<p> -Father Carpi had never been before confronted so directly by the -difficulties of his position as at that very moment and on the occasion -of that intolerable and hopeless girl. To gain time he smiled, a slight, -non-committal smile. -</p> - -<p> -"We priests, M. le Comte, are recommended not to enter into discussion -of theological matters with people who, whatever their accomplishments -and wisdom, are not properly instructed in them. As to anything else I -am always at Monseigneur's service." -</p> - -<p> -He gave this qualification to Count Helion because it was not beyond the -bounds of respect due from a poor, parish priest to a titled great man -of his province. -</p> - -<p> -"Have you been much about amongst the town people?" asked Count Helion. -</p> - -<p> -"I go out every morning about seven to say mass in that church you may -have noticed near by. I have visited also once or twice an old friend -from my seminary days, a priest of a poor parish here. We rejoice -together at the return of the Holy Father to Rome. For the rest I had an -idea. Monseigneur, that you did not wish me to make myself prominent in -any way in this town." -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps I didn't. It may be convenient, though, to know what are the -rumours current amongst the populace. That class has its own thoughts. I -suppose your friend would know something of that." -</p> - -<p> -"No doubt. But I can tell you, Monseigneur, what the people think. They -think that if they can't be Genoese as before, they would rather be -French than Piedmontese. That, Monseigneur, is a general feeling even -amongst the better class of citizens." -</p> - -<p> -"Much would they gain by it," mumbled Count de Montevesso. "Unless the -Other were to come back. Abbé," he added sharply, "is there any talk of -him coming back?" -</p> - -<p> -"That indeed would be a misfortune." Father Carpi's tone betrayed a -certain emotion which Count Helion noticed, faint as it was. -</p> - -<p> -"Whatever happens you will have always a friend in me," he said, and -Father Carpi acknowledged the assurance by a slight inclination of his -body. -</p> - -<p> -"Surely God would not allow it," he murmured uneasily. But the stare of -his interlocutor augmented his alarm. He was still more startled when he -heard Count de Montevesso make the remark that the only thing which -seemed to put a limit to the power of God was the folly of men. He had -too poor an opinion of Count de Montevesso to be shocked by the -blasphemy. To him it was only the proof that the Count had been very -much upset by something, some fact or some news. -</p> - -<p> -"And people are very foolish just now both in Paris and in Vienna," -added Count de Montevesso after a long pause. -</p> - -<p> -It was news then. Father Carpi betrayed nothing of his anxious -curiosity. The inward unrest which pervaded the whole basin of the -Western Mediterranean was strongest in Italy perhaps and was very strong -in the heart of Father Carpi, who was both an Italian and a priest. -Perhaps he would be told something! He almost held his breath, but Count -de Montevesso took his head between his hands and said only: -</p> - -<p> -"One is pestered by folly of all sorts. Abbé, see whether you can bring -that child to reason." -</p> - -<p> -However low in the scale of humanity Father Carpi placed the Count de -Montevesso, he never questioned his social position. Father Carpi was -made furious by the request, but he obeyed. He approached the rustic -bedstead and looked at the occupant with sombre disgust. Nothing was -obscure to him in the situation. If he couldn't tell exactly what devil -possessed that creature he remembered perfectly her mother, a rash sort -of girl who was found drowned years ago in a remarkably shallow pond -amongst some rocks not quite a mile away from the presbytery. It might -have been an accident. He had consented to bury her in consecrated -ground not from any compassion, but because of the revolutionary spirit -which had penetrated even the thick skulls of his parishioners and -probably would have caused a riot and shaken the precarious power of the -Church in his obscure valley. He stood erect by the head of the couch, -looking down at the girl's uncovered eye whose sombre iris swam on the -glistening white. He could have laughed with contempt and fury. He -regulated his deep voice so that it reached Count de Montevesso at the -other side of the room only as a solemn admonishing murmur. -</p> - -<p> -"You miserable little wretch," he said, "can't you behave yourself? You -have been a torment to me for years." -</p> - -<p> -The sense of his own powerlessness overcame him so completely that he -felt tempted for a moment to throw everything up, walk out of the room, -seek refuge amongst sinners that would believe either in God or in the -devil. -</p> - -<p> -"You are a scourge to us all," he continued in the same equable murmur. -"If you don't speak out, you little beast, and put an end to this scene -soon I will exorcise you." -</p> - -<p> -The only effect of that threat was the sudden immobility of the rolling -eye. Father Carpi turned towards the Count. -</p> - -<p> -"It is probably some sort of malady," he said coldly. "Perhaps a doctor -could prescribe some remedy." -</p> - -<p> -Count Helion came out of his listless attitude. A moment ago a doctor -was in the house in conference with M. le Marquis. Perhaps he was still -there. Count Helion got up impetuously and asked the Abbé to go along -to the other side and find out. -</p> - -<p> -"Take a light with you. All the lights are out down there. Knock at the -Marquis's door and inquire from Bernard, and if the doctor is still -there bring him along." -</p> - -<p> -Father Carpi went out hastily and Count de Montevesso, keeping the women -outside, paced the whole length of the room. The fellow called himself a -doctor whatever else he might have been. Whether he did any good to the -child or not—Count de Montevesso stopped and looked fixedly at the -bed—this was an extremely favourable opportunity to get in touch with -him personally. Who could tell what use could be made of him in his -other capacities, apart from the fact that he probably could really -prescribe some remedy? Count de Montevesso's heart was softened -paternally. His progress from European barrack-rooms to an Eastern -palace left on his mind a sort of bewilderment. He even thought the girl -attractive. There she was, a prey of some sort of illness. He bent over -her face and instantly a pair of thin bare arms darted from under the -blankets and clasped him round the neck with a force that really -surprised him. "That one loves me," he thought. He did not know that she -would have hung round anybody's neck in the passion of obtaining what -she wanted. He thought with a sort of dull insight that everybody was a -little bit against her. He abandoned his neck to the passionate clasp -for a little time, then disengaged himself gently. -</p> - -<p> -"What makes you behave like this?" he asked. "Do you feel a pain -anywhere?" -</p> - -<p> -No emotion could change the harshness of his voice, but it was very low -and there was an accent in it which the girl could not mistake. She sat -up suddenly with her long wild hair covering her shoulders. With her -round eyes, the predatory character of her face, the ruffled fury of her -aspect, she looked like an angry bird; and there was something bird-like -in the screech of her voice. -</p> - -<p> -"Pain? No. But if I didn't hate them so I would like to die. I -would . . ." -</p> - -<p> -Count de Montevesso put one hand at the back of her head and clapped the -other broad palm over her mouth. This action surprised her so much that -she didn't even struggle. When the Count took his hands away she -remained silent without looking at him. -</p> - -<p> -"Don't scream like this," he murmured harshly but with obvious -indulgence. "Your aunts are outside and they will tell the priest all -about it." -</p> - -<p> -Clelia drew up her knees, clasped her hands round them outside the -blanket, and stared. -</p> - -<p> -"It is just your temper!" suggested Count Helion reproachfully. -</p> - -<p> -"All those dressed-up witches despise me. I am not frightened. And the -worst of them is that yellow-haired witch, your wife. If I had gone in -there in my bare feet they could not have stared more down on me. . . . -I shall fly at their faces. I can read their thoughts as they put their -glasses to their eyes. 'What animal is this?' they seem to ask -themselves. I am a brute beast to them." -</p> - -<p> -A shadow seemed to fall on Count de Montevesso's face for the moment. -Clelia unclasped her fingers, shook her fists at the empty space, then -clasped her legs again. These movements, full of sombre energy, were -observed silently by the Count of Montevesso. He uttered the word -"<i>Patienza</i>," which in its humility is the word of the ambitious, of -the unforgiving who keep a strict account with the world; a word of -indomitable hope. "You wait till you are a little older. You will have -plenty of people at your feet; and then you will be able to spurn -anybody you like." -</p> - -<p> -"You mean when I am married," said Clelia in a faraway voice and staring -straight over her knees. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said the Count de Montevesso, "but you will first have to learn -to be gentle." -</p> - -<p> -This recommendation apparently missed the ear for which it was destined. -For a whole minute Clelia seemed to contemplate some sort of vision with -her predatory and pathetic stare. One side of her nightgown had slipped -off her shoulder. Suddenly she pushed her scattered hair back, and -extending her arm towards Count Helion patted him caressingly on the -cheek. -</p> - -<p> -When she had done patting him he asked, unmoved: "Now, what is it you -want?" -</p> - -<p> -She was careful not to turn her face his way while she whispered: "I -want that young signor that came to-day to make eyes at my aunt." -</p> - -<p> -"Impossible." -</p> - -<p> -"Why impossible? I was with them in the morning. They did nothing but -look at each other. But I went for him myself." -</p> - -<p> -"That Englishman! You can't have an Englishman like this. I am thinking -of something better for you, a marquis or a count." -</p> - -<p> -This was the exact truth, not a sudden idea to meet a hopeless case. -</p> - -<p> -"You have hardly had time to have a good look at him," added Count -Helion. -</p> - -<p> -"I looked at him this evening with all my eyes, with all my soul. I -would have sat up all night to look at him. But he got up and turned his -back on me. He has no eyes for anybody but my aunt." -</p> - -<p> -"Did you speak together, you two?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," she said, "he sat down by me and all those witches stared as if -he had been making up to a monster. Am I a monster? He too looked at me -as if I had been one." -</p> - -<p> -"Was he rude to you?" asked the Count de Montevesso. -</p> - -<p> -"He was as insolent as all the people I have seen since we came to this -town. His heart was black as of all the rest of them. He was gentle to -me as one is gentle to an old beggar for the sake of charity. Oh, how I -hated him." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, then," said Count de Montevesso in a harsh unsympathetic tone, -"you may safely despise him." -</p> - -<p> -Clelia threw herself half out of bed on the neck of Count Helion, who -preserved an unsympathetic rigidity though he did not actually repulse -her wild and vehement caress. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, dearest uncle of mine," she whispered ardently! into his ear, "he -is handsome! I must have him for myself." -</p> - -<p> -There was a knocking at the door. Count Helion tore the bare arms from -his neck and pushed the girl back into bed. -</p> - -<p> -"Cover yourself up," he commanded hurriedly. He arranged the blanket at -her back. "Lie still and say nothing of all this, and then you need have -no fear. But if you breathe a word of this to anybody, then . . . Come -in," he shouted to the renewed knocking and had just time to shake his -finger at Clelia menacingly before the Abbé and the doctor entered the -room. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="PART_III"></a>PART III</h4> - - -<h4>I</h4> - -<p> -Cosmo walked away with no more than one look back, just before turning -the corner, at the tensely alert griffins guarding the portals of the -Palazzo. At the entrance of his inn a small knot of men on the pavement -paused in their low conversation to look at him. After he had passed he -heard a voice say, "This is the English milord." He found the dimly lit -hall empty and he went up the empty staircase into the upper regions of -silence. His face, which to the men on the pavement had appeared -passionless and pale as marble, looked at him suddenly out of the mirror -over the fireplace, and he was startled as though he had seen a ghost. -</p> - -<p> -Spire had been told not to wait for his return. His empty room had -welcomed him with a bright flame on the hearth and with lighted candles. -He turned away from his own image and stood with his back to the fire -looking downwards and vaguely oppressed by the profound as if expectant -silence around him. The strength and novelty of the impressions received -during that day, the intimacy of their appeal, had affected his -fortitude. He felt mortally weary and began to undress; but after he got -into bed he remained for a time in a sitting posture. For the first time -in his life he tasted of loneliness. His father was at least thirty-five -years his senior. An age! His sister was just a young girl. Clever, of -course. He was very fond of her, but the mere fact of her being a girl -raised a wall between them. He had never made any real friends. He had -nothing to do; and he did not seem to know what to think of anything in -the world. Now, for instance there was that vanquished fat figure in a -little cocked hat. . . . Still an emperor. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo came with a start out of a deep sleep that seemed to have lasted -only a moment. But he knew at once where he was, though at first he had -to argue himself out of the conviction of having parted from Count -Helion at the top of a staircase less than five minutes ago. Meantime he -watched Spire flooding the room with brilliant sunshine, for the three -windows of the room faced east. -</p> - -<p> -"Very fine morning, sir," said Spire over his shoulder. "Quite a spring -day." -</p> - -<p> -A delicious freshness flowed over Cosmo. It did not bring joy to him, -but dismay. Daylight already! It had come too soon. He had had no time -yet to decide what to do. He had gone to sleep. A most extraordinary -thing! His distress was appeased by the simple thought that there was no -need for him to do anything. After drinking his chocolate, which Spire -received on a tray from some woman on the other side of the door, he -informed him that he intended to devote the whole day to his -correspondence. A table having been arranged to that end close to an -open window, he started writing at once. On retiring without a sound -Spire left the goose-quill flying over the paper. It was past noon -before Cosmo, hearing him come in again on some pretence or other, -raised his head for the first time and dropped the pen to say: "Give me -my coat, I will go down to the dining room." -</p> - -<p> -By that time the murmur of voices in the piazza had died out. The good -Genoese had gone indoors to eat. Coming out of his light-filled room -Cosmo found the corridors cold and dark like subterranean passages cut -in rock, and the hall downstairs gloomy like a burial vault. In contrast -with it the long dining room had a festive air, a brilliancy that was -almost crude. In a corner where the man who called himself Doctor Martel -had his table this glare was toned down by half-closed shutters and -Cosmo made his way there. Cantelucci's benefactor, seated sideways with -one arm thrown over the chair's back, took Cosmo's arrival as a matter -of course, greeted him with an amiable growl, and declared himself very -sharp set. Presently laying down his knife and fork he enquired what -Cosmo had been doing that morning. Writing? Really? Thought that perhaps -Cosmo had been doing the churches. One could see very pretty girls in -the morning, waiting for their turn at the confessional. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo, raising suddenly his eyes from his plate, caught his companion -examining him keenly. The doctor burst into a loud laugh till Cosmo's -grave face recalled him to himself. -</p> - -<p> -"I beg your pardon. I remembered suddenly a very funny thing that -happened to me last night. I am afraid you think me very impolite. It -was extremely funny." -</p> - -<p> -"Won't you tell me of it?" asked Cosmo coldly. -</p> - -<p> -"No, my dear sir. You are not in the mood. I prefer to apologize. There -is a secret in it which is not mine. But as to the girls I was perfectly -serious. If you seek female beauty you must look to the people for it -and in Genoa you will not look in vain. The women of the upper classes -are alike everywhere. You must have remarked that." -</p> - -<p> -"I have hardly had time to look about me as yet," said Cosmo. He was no -longer annoyed with the doctor, not even after he heard him say: -</p> - -<p> -"Surely yesterday evening you must have had an opportunity. You came -home late." -</p> - -<p> -"I wonder who takes the trouble to watch my movements?" remarked Cosmo -carelessly. -</p> - -<p> -"Town-police spies, of course," said the doctor grimly; "and perhaps one -or two of the most enterprising thieves. You must make up your mind to -that. After all, why should you care?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, why should I?" repeated Cosmo nonchalantly. "Do they report to -you?" -</p> - -<p> -The doctor laughed again. "I see you haven't forgiven me my untimely -merriment; but I will answer your question. No doubt I could hear a lot -if I wanted to, both from the police and the thieves. But as a matter of -fact it was my courier who told me. He was talking with some friends -outside this inn when you came home. You know, you are a noticeable -figure." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, your courier. I suppose he hasn't got much else to do!" -</p> - -<p> -"I see you are bent on quarrelling, Mr. Latham," said the other, while -two unexpected dimples appeared on his round cheeks. "All right. Only -hadn't we better wait for some other opportunity? Don't you allow your -man to talk while he is assisting you to dress? I must confess I let my -fellow run on while he is shaving me in the morning. But then I am an -easy-going sort of tramp. For I am just a tramp. I have no Latham Hall -to go back to." -</p> - -<p> -He pushed his chair away from the table, stretched his legs, plunged his -hands in his pockets complacently. How long was it he had been a tramp? -he mused aloud. Twenty years? Or a little more. From one end of Europe -to the other. From Madrid to Moscow, as one might say. Exactly like that -Corsican fellow. Only he hadn't dragged a tail of two hundred thousand -men behind him, and had done no more blood-letting than his lancet was -equal to. -</p> - -<p> -He looked up at Cosmo suddenly. -</p> - -<p> -"The lancet's my weapon, you know. Not bayonet or sabre. Cold steel -anyhow. Of course I found occasion to fire off my pistols more than -once, in the course of my travels, and I must say for myself that -whenever I fired them it settled the business. One evening, I remember, -in Transylvania, stepping out of a wretched inn to take a look round, I -ran against a coalition of three powerful Haiduks in tarry breeches, -with moustaches a foot long. The moonlight was bright as day. I took in -the situation at a glance and I assure you two of them never made a -sound as they fell, while the third just grunted once. I fancy they had -designs on my poor horse. He was inside the inn, you know. A custom of -the country. Men and animals under the same roof. I used to be sorry for -the animals. When I came in again the Jew had just finished frying the -eggs. He had been very surly before but when he served me I noticed that -he was shaking like a leaf. He tried to propitiate me by the offer of a -sausage. I was simply ravenous. It made me ill for two days. That's why -I haven't forgotten the occurrence. He nearly managed to avenge those -bandits. Luckily I had the right kind of drugs in my valise, and my iron -constitution helped me to pull through. But I should like to have seen -Bonaparte in that predicament. He wouldn't have known what to do. And, -anyhow, the sausage would have finished him. His constitution is not -like mine. He's unhealthy, sir, unhealthy." -</p> - -<p> -"You had occasion to observe him often?" asked Cosmo, simply because he -was reluctant to go back to his writing. -</p> - -<p> -"Our paths seldom crossed," stated the other simply. "But some time -after the abdication I was passing through Valence—it's a tramp's -business, you know, to keep moving—and I just had a good look at him -outside the post-house. You may take it from me, he won't reach the term -of the Psalmist. Well, Mr. Latham, when I take a survey of the past, -here we are, the Corsican and I, within, say, a hundred miles of each -other, at the end of twenty years of tramping, and, frankly, which of us -is the better off when all's said and done?" -</p> - -<p> -"That's a point of view," murmured Cosmo wearily. He added, however, -that there were various ways of appreciating the careers of the world's -great men. -</p> - -<p> -"There are," assented the other. "For instance, you would say that -nothing short of the whole of Europe was needed to crush that fellow. -But Pozzo di Borgo thinks that he has done it all by himself." -</p> - -<p> -At the name of the Emperor's Corsican enemy Cosmo raised his head. He -had caught sight in Paris of that personage at one or other of those -great receptions from which he used to come away disgusted with the -world and dissatisfied with himself. The doctor seemed inwardly amused -by his recollection of Pozzo di Borgo. -</p> - -<p> -"He said to me," he continued, "'Ah! If Bonaparte had had the sense not -to quarrel with me he wouldn't be in Elba now.' What do you think of -that, Mr. Latham? Is that a point of view?" -</p> - -<p> -"I should call it mad egotism." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. But the most amusing thing is that there is some truth in it. The -private enmity of one man may be more dangerous and more effective than -the hatred of millions on public grounds. Pozzo has the ear of the -Russian Emperor. The fate of the Bourbons hung on a hair. Alexander's -word was law—and who knows!" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo, plunged in abstraction, was repeating to himself mechanically, -"The fate of the Bourbons hung on a hair—the fate of the -Bourbons." . . . Those words seemed meaningless. He tried to rouse -himself. "Yes, Alexander," he murmured vaguely. The doctor raised his -voice suddenly in a peevish tone. -</p> - -<p> -"I am not talking of Alexander of Macedon, Mr. Latham." His vanity had -been hurt by Cosmo's attitude. The young man's faint smile placated him, -and the incongruous dimples reappeared on the doctor's cheeks while he -continued: "Here you are. For Pozzo, Napoleon has always been a -starveling squireen. For the Prince, he has been principally the born -enemy of good taste. . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"The Prince?" repeated Cosmo, struggling to keep his head above the -black waters of melancholia which seemed to lap about his very lips. -"You have said the Prince, haven't you? What Prince?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, Talleyrand, of course. He did once tell him so, too. Pretty -audacious! What? . . . Well, I don't know. Suppose you were master of -the world, and somebody were to tell you something of the sort to your -face—what could you do? Nothing. You would have to gulp it, feeling -pretty small. A private gentleman of good position could resent such a -remark from an equal, but a master of the world couldn't. A master of -the world, Mr. Latham, is very small potatoes; and I will tell you why: -it's because he is alone of his kind, stuck up like a thief in the -pillory, for dead cats and cabbage stalks to be thrown at him. A devil -of a position to be in unless for a moment. But no man born of woman is -a monster. There never was such a thing. A man who would really be a -monster would arouse nothing but loathing and hatred. But this man has -been loved by an army, by a people. For years his soldiers died for him -with joy. Now, didn't they?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo perceived that he had managed to forget himself. "Yes," he said, -"that cannot be denied." -</p> - -<p> -"No," continued the doctor. "And now, within twenty yards of us, on the -other side of the wall there are millions of people who still love him. -Hey! Cantelucci!" he called across the now empty length of the room. -"Come here." -</p> - -<p> -The innkeeper, who had been noiselessly busy about a distant sideboard, -approached with deference, in his shirt-sleeves, girt with a long apron -of which one corner was turned up, and with a white cap on his head. -Being asked whether it was true that Italians loved Napoleon, he -answered by a bow and "Excellency." -</p> - -<p> -"You think yourself that he is a great man, don't you?" pursued the -doctor, and obtained another bow and another murmured "Excellency." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor turned to Cosmo triumphantly. "You see! And Bonaparte has -been stealing from them all he could lay his hands on for years. All -their works of art. I am surprised he didn't take away the wall on which -<i>The Last Supper</i> is painted. It makes my blood boil. I love Italy, -you know." He addressed again the motionless Cantelucci. -</p> - -<p> -"But what is it that makes you people love this man?" -</p> - -<p> -This time Cantelucci did not bow. He seemed to make an effort: "Signore, -it is the idea." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor directed his eyes again to Cosmo in silence. At last the -innkeeper stepped back three paces before turning away from his English -clients. The dimples had vanished from the doctor's full cheeks. There -was something contemptuous in the peevishness of his thin lips and the -extreme hardness of his eyes. They softened somewhat before he addressed -Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"Here is another point of view for you. Devil only knows what that idea -is, but I suspect it's vague enough to include every illusion that ever -fooled mankind. There must be some charm in that gray coat and that old -three-cornered hat of his, for the man himself has betrayed every hatred -and every hope that have helped him on his way." -</p> - -<p> -"What I am wondering at," Cosmo said at last, "is whether you have ever -talked like this to anybody before." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor seemed taken aback a little. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh. You mean about Bonaparte," he said. "If you had gone to that other -inn, Pollegrini's, more suitable to your nationality and social -position, you would have heard nothing of that kind. I am not very -communicative really, but to sit at meals like two mutes would have been -impossible. What could we have conversed about? One must have some -subject other than the weather and, frankly, what other subject would we -have had here in Genoa, or for that matter in any other spot of the -civilized world? I know there are amongst us in England a good many -young men who call themselves revolutionists and even republicans. -Charming young men, generous and all that. Friends of Boney. You might -be one of them." -</p> - -<p> -As he paused markedly Cosmo murmured that he was hardly prepared to -state what he was. That other inn, the Pollegrini, was full when he -arrived. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, there had been three departures this morning," the doctor -informed him. "You can have your things packed up this afternoon and -carried across the Place. You know, by staying here you make yourself -conspicuous to the spies, not to speak of the thieves; they ask -themselves: 'What sort of inferior Englishman is that?' With me it is -different. I am known for a man who has his own work to do. People are -curious. And as my work is confidential I prefer to keep out of the way -rather than have to be rude. But for you it would be more amusing to -live over there. New faces all the time; endless gossip about all sorts -of people." -</p> - -<p> -"I do not think it is worth while to change now," said Cosmo coldly. -</p> - -<p> -"Of course not, if you are not going to prolong your stay. If you -project a visit to Elba, Livorno is the port for that. And if you are -anxious to hear about Napoleon you will hear plenty of gossip about him -there. Here you have nothing but my talk." -</p> - -<p> -"I have found it very interesting," said Cosmo, rising to go away. The -doctor smiled without amiability. He was determined never to let Cosmo -guess that he knew of his acquaintance with the people occupying the -palace guarded by the symbolic griffins. Of that fact he had been made -aware by the Count de Montevesso who, once, he had got the doctor into -Clelia's room, decided to take him into his confidence—on the ground -that one must be frank with a medical man. The real reason was, however, -that knowing Doctor Martel to be employed on secret political work by -the statesmen of the Alliance, and having a very great idea of his -occult influences in all sorts of spheres, he hoped to get from him -another sort of assistance. His last words were, "You see yourself the -state the child is in. I want that popinjay moved out of Genoa." -</p> - -<p> -The only answer of the doctor to this, and the last sound during that -professional visit that Count de Montevesso heard from him, was a short -wooden laugh. That man of political intrigues, confidential missions -(often he had more than one at a time on his hands), inordinately vain -of his backstairs importance, was not mercenary. He had always preserved -a most independent attitude towards his employers. To him the Count de -Montevesso was but a common stupid soldier of fortune of no importance -and of no position except as the son-in-law of the Marquis d'Armand. He -had never seen him before, but his marital life was known to him as it -was known to the rest of the world. To be waylaid by a strange priest -just as he was leaving the Marquis's room was annoying enough, but he -could not very well refuse the request since it seemed to be a case of -sudden illness. He was soon enlightened as to its nature by Clelia, who -had treated him and the Count to another of her indescribable -performances. Characteristically enough the doctor had never been for a -moment irritated with the girl. He behaved by her tempestuous bedside -like a man of science, calm, attentive, impenetrable. But it was -afterwards, when he had been drawn aside by the Count for a confidential -talk, that he had asked himself whether he were dreaming or awake. His -scorn for the man helped him to preserve his self-command, and to the -end the Count was not intelligent enough to perceive its character. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor left the Palazzo about an hour after Cosmo (but not by the -same staircase) and on his way to his inn gave rein to his indignation. -Did the stupid brute imagine that he had any sort of claim on his -services? Ah, he wanted that popinjay removed from Genoa! Indeed! And -what the devil did he care for it? Was he expected to arrange a neat -little assassination to please that solemn wooden imbecile? The doctor's -sense of self-importance was grievously hurt. Even in the morning after -a good-night's rest he had not shaken off the impression. However, he -was reasonable enough not to make Cosmo in any way responsible for what -he defined to himself as the most incredibly offensive experience of his -life. He only looked at him when he came to lunch with a sort of acid -amusement as the being who had had the power to arouse a passion of love -in the primitive soul of that curious little savage. As the meal -proceeded, the doctor seemed to notice that his young countryman was -somehow changed. He watched him covertly. What had happened to him since -last evening? Surely he hadn't been smitten himself by the little savage -that under no circumstances could have been made fit to be a housemaid -in an English family. -</p> - -<p> -After he had been left by Cosmo alone in the dining room, the doctor's -body continued to loll in the chair while his thoughts continued to -circle around that funny affair, of which you couldn't say whether it -was love at first sight or a manifestation of some inherited lunacy. -Quite a good-looking young man. Out of the common too, in a -distinguished way. Altogether a specimen of one's countrymen one could -well be proud of, mused further the doctor, whose tastes had been formed -by much intercourse with all kinds of people. Characteristically enough, -too, he felt for a moment sorry in his grumpy contemptuous way for the -little dishevelled savage with a hooked nose and burning cheeks and her -thin sticks of bare arms. The doctor was humane. The origin of his -reputation sprang from his humanity. But his thought, as soon as it left -Clelia, stopped short as it were before another image that replaced it -in his mind. He had remembered the Countess of Montevesso. He knew her -of old, by sight and reputation. He had seen her no further back than -last night by the side of the old Marquis's chair. Now he had seen the -Count de Montevesso himself, he could well believe all the stories of a -lifelong jealousy. The doctor's hard, active eyes stared fixedly at the -truth. It was not because of that little savage that gloomy -self-tormenting ass of a drill sergeant to an Indian prince wanted young -Latham removed from Genoa. Oh, dear no. That wasn't it at all. It was -much more serious. -</p> - -<p> -Before he walked out of the empty dining room Doctor Martel concluded -that it would be perhaps just as well for young Latham not to linger too -long in Genoa. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>II</h4> - -<p> -Cosmo, having returned to his room, sat down again at the writing table: -for was not this day to be devoted to correspondence? Long after the -shade had invaded the greater part of the square below he went on, while -the faint shuffle of footsteps and the faint murmur of voices reached -him from the pavement like the composite sound of agitated insect life -that can be heard in the depths of a forest. It required all his courage -to keep on, piling up words which dealt exclusively with towns, roads, -rivers, mountains, the colours of the sky. It was like labouring the -description of the scenery of a stage after a great play had come to an -end. A vain thing. And still he travelled on. Having at last descended -into the Italian plain (for the benefit of Henrietta), he dropped his -pen and thought: "At this rate I will never arrive in Genoa." He fell -back in his chair like a weary traveller. He was suddenly overcome by -that weary distaste a frank nature feels after an effort at concealing -an overpowering sentiment. -</p> - -<p> -But had he really anything to conceal? he asked himself. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly the door flew open and Spire marched in with four lighted -candles on a tray. It was only then that Cosmo became aware how late it -was. "Had I not better tear all this up?" he thought, looking down at -the sheets before him. -</p> - -<p> -Spire put two candlesticks on the table, disposed the two others, one -each side of the mantelpiece, and was going out. -</p> - -<p> -"Wait!" cried Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -It was like a cry of distress. Spire shut the door quietly and turned -about, betraying no emotion. Cosmo seized the pen again and concluded -hastily: -</p> - -<blockquote><p> -I have been in Genoa for the last two days. I have seen Adèle and the -Marquis. They send their love. You shall have lots about them in my -next. I have no time now to tell you what a wonderful person she has -become. But perhaps you would not think so. -</p></blockquote> - -<p> -After he had signed it the thought struck him that there was nothing -about Napoleon in his letter. He must put in something about Napoleon. -He added a P.S.: -</p> - -<blockquote><p> -You can form no idea of the state of suspense in which all classes live -here from the highest to the lowest, as to what may happen next. All -their thoughts are concentrated on Bonaparte. Rumours are flying about -of some sort of violence that may be offered to him, assassination, -kidnapping. It's difficult to credit it all, though I do believe that -the Congress in Vienna is capable of any atrocity. A person I met here -suggested that I should go to Livorno. Perhaps I will. But I have lost, -I don't know why, all desire to travel. Should I find a ship ready to -sail for England in Livorno, I may take passage in her and come home at -once by sea. -</p></blockquote> - -<p> -Cosmo collected the pages, and while closing the packet asked himself -whether he ought to tell her that. Was it the fact that he had lost all -wish to travel? However, he let Spire take the packet to the post and -during the man's absence took a turn or two in the room. He had got -through the day. Now there was the evening to get through somehow. But -when it occurred to him that the evening would be followed by the hours -of an endless night, filled by the conflict of shadowy thoughts that -haunt the birth of a passion, the desolation of the prospect was so -overpowering that he could only meet it with a bitter laugh. Spire, -returning, stood thunderstruck at the door. -</p> - -<p> -"What's the matter with you? Have you seen a ghost?" asked Cosmo, who -ceased laughing suddenly and fixed the valet with distracted eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"No, sir, certainly not. I was wondering whether you hadn't better dine -in your room." -</p> - -<p> -"What do you mean? Am I not fit to be seen?" asked Cosmo captiously, -glancing at himself in the mirror as though the crisis through which he -had passed in the last three or four minutes could have distorted his -face. Spire made no answer. The sound of that laugh had made him lose -his conventional bearing; while Cosmo wondered what had happened to that -imbecile and glared at him suspiciously. -</p> - -<p> -"Give me my coat," he said at last. "I am going downstairs." -</p> - -<p> -This broke the spell and Spire, getting into motion, regained his -composure. -</p> - -<p> -"Noisy company down there, sir. I thought you might not like it." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo felt a sudden longing to hear noise, lots of it, senseless, loud, -common, absurd noise; noise loud enough to prevent one from thinking, -the sort of noise that would cause one to become, as it were, -insensible. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you want?" he asked savagely of Spire, who was hovering at his -back. -</p> - -<p> -"I am ready to help you with your coat, sir," said Spire, in an -apathetic voice. He had been profoundly shocked. After his master had -gone out, slamming the door behind him, he busied himself with a stony -face in putting the room to rights, before he blew out the candles and -left it to get his supper. -</p> - -<p> -"Didn't you advise me this morning to go to Livorno?" asked Cosmo, -falling heavily into the chair. Doctor Martel was already at table, and, -except that he had changed his boots for silk stockings and shoes, he -might not have moved from there all the afternoon. -</p> - -<p> -"Livorno," repeated that strange man. "Did I? Yes. The road along the -Riviera di Levante is delightful for any person sensible to the beauties -of Italian landscapes." He paused with a sour expression in the noise of -voices filling the room, and muttered that no doubt Cantelucci found -that sort of thing pay but that the place was becoming impossible. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo was just thinking that there was not half enough uproar there. The -naval officers seemed strangely subdued that evening. The same old -lieutenant with sunken cheeks and a sharp nose, in the same shabby -uniform, was at the head of the table. Cantelucci, wearing a -long-skirted maroon coat, now glided about the room, unobtrusive and -vigilant. His benefactor beckoned to him. -</p> - -<p> -"You would know where to find a man with four good horses for the -signore's carriage?" he asked; and accepting Cantelucci's low bow as an -affirmative, addressed himself to Cosmo. "The road's perfectly safe. The -country's full of Austrian troops." -</p> - -<p> -"I think I would prefer to go by sea," said Cosmo, who had not thought -of making any arrangements for the journey. Instantly Cantelucci glided -away, while the doctor emitted a grunt and applied himself to his -dinner. Cosmo thought desperately, "Oh, yes, the sea, why not by sea, -away from everybody?" He had been rolling and bumping on the roads, -good, bad, and indifferent, in dust or mud, meeting in inns ladies and -gentlemen for days and days between Paris and Genoa, and for a moment he -was fascinated by the notion of a steady gliding progress in company of -three or four bronzed sailors over a blue sea in sight of a picturesque -coast of rocks and hills crowded with pines, with opening valleys, with -white villages, and purple promontories of lovely shape. It was like a -dream which lasted till the doctor was heard suddenly saying, "I think I -could find somebody that would take your travelling carriage off your -hands"—and the awakening came with an inward recoil of all Cosmo's -being, as if before a vision of irrevocable consequences. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor lowered his eyelids. "He is changed," he said to himself. "Oh -yes, he is changed." This, however, did not prevent him from feeling -irritated by Cosmo's lack of response to the offer to dispose of his -travelling carriage. -</p> - -<p> -"There are many people that would consider themselves lucky to have such -an offer made to them," he remarked, after a period of silence. "It is -not so easy at this time to get rid of a travelling carriage. Nor yet to -have an opportunity to hire a dependable man with four good horses if -you want to go by land. I mean at a time like this when anything may -happen any day." -</p> - -<p> -"I am sure I am very much obliged to you," said Cosmo, "but I am really -in no hurry." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor took notice of Cosmo's languid attitude and the untouched -plate before him. -</p> - -<p> -"The trouble is that you don't seem to have any aim at all. Isn't that -it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. I confess," said Cosmo carelessly. "I think I want a rest." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, Mr. Latham, you had better see that you get it, then. This place -isn't restful, it is merely dull. And then suppose you were suddenly to -perceive an aim, such for instance as a visit to Elba—you may be too -late if you linger unduly. You know, you are not likely to see a -specimen like that one over there again in your lifetime. And even he -may not be with us very long." -</p> - -<p> -"You seem very positive about that," said Cosmo, looking at his -interlocutor searchingly. "This is the third or fourth time that I hear -that sort of allusion from you. Have you any special information?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, of a sort. It has been my lot to hear much of what is said in high -places, and the nature of my occupation has given me much practice in -appreciating what is said." -</p> - -<p> -"In high places!" interjected Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"And in low, too," retorted the doctor a little impatiently, "if that is -the distinction you have in your mind, Mr. Latham. However, I told you I -have been in Vienna quite recently, and I have heard something there." -</p> - -<p> -"From Prince Talleyrand?" was Cosmo's stolid suggestion. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor smiled acidly. "Not a bad guess. I did hear something at -Prince Talleyrand's. I heard it from Montrond. You know whom I mean?" -</p> - -<p> -"Never heard of him. Who is he?" -</p> - -<p> -"Never heard of Montrond? Oh, I forgot, you have been shut up in that -tight island of ours. Monsieur Montrond has the advantage to live near -the rose. You understand me? He is the intimate companion to the Prince. -Has been for many years. The Prince told somebody once that he liked -Montrond because he was not 'excessively' scrupulous. That just paints -the man for you. I was talking with Monsieur Montrond about Bonaparte's -future—and I was not trying to be unkind, either. I pointed out that -one could hardly expect him to settle down if the French Government were -not made to pay him the money guaranteed under the Treaty. He could see -the moment when he would find himself without a penny. That's enough to -make any human being restive. He was bound to try and do something. A -man must live, I said. And Montrond looks at me, sideways, and says -deliberately: 'Oh, here we don't see the necessity.' You understand that -after a hint like this I dropped the subject. It's a point of view like -another, eh, Mr. Latham?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo was impressed. "I heard last night," he said, "that he is taking -precautions for his personal safety." -</p> - -<p> -"He remembered perhaps what happened to a certain Duc d'Enghien, a young -man who obviously didn't take precautions. So you heard that story? -Well, in Livorno you will hear many sorts of stories. Livorno is an -exciting place, and an excellent point to start from for a visit to -Elba, which would be a great memory for your old age. And if you happen -to observe anything remarkable there I would thank you to drop me a -line, care of Cantelucci. You see, I have put some money into a deal of -oil, and I don't know how it is, everything in the world, even a little -twopenny affair like that, is affected by this feeling of suspense that -man's presence gives rise to: hopes, plans, affections, love affairs. If -I were you, Mr. Latham, I would certainly go to Livorno." He waited a -little before he got up, muttering something about having a lot of pen -work to do, and went out, Cantelucci hastening to open the door for him. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo remained passive in his chair. The room emptied itself gradually, -and there was not even a servant left in it when Cosmo rose in his turn. -He went back to his room, threw a few pieces of wood on the fire, and -sat down. He felt as if lost in a strange world. -</p> - -<p> -He doubted whether he ought not to have called that day at the Palace, -if only to say good-bye. And suddenly all the occurrences and even words -of the day before assailed his memory. The morning call, the mulatto -girl, the sunshine in Madame de Montevesso's boudoir, the seduction of -her voice, the emotional appeal of her story, had stirred him to the -depths of his soul. Where was the man who could have imagined the -existence of a being of such splendid humanity, with such a voice, with -such amazing harmony of aspect, expression, gesture—with such a face -in this gross world of mortals in which Lady Jane and Mrs. R.'s daughters -counted for the most exquisite products offered to the love of men? And -yet Cosmo remembered now that even while all his senses had been thrown -into confusion by the first sight of Madame de Montevesso he had felt -dimly that she was no stranger, that he had seen her glory before: the -presence, the glance, the lips. He did not connect that dim recognition -with the child Adèle. No child could have promised a woman like this. -It was rather like the awed recollection of a prophetic vision. And it -had been in Latham Hallbut not in a dream; he was certain no man ever -found the premonition of such a marvel in the obscure promptings of -slumbering flesh. And it was not in a vision of his own; such visions -were for artists, for inspired seers. She must have been foretold to him -in some picture he had seen in Latham Hall, where one came on pictures -(mostly of the Italian school) in unexpected places, on landings, at the -end of dark corridors, in spare bedrooms. A luminous oval face on the dark -background—the noble full-length woman, stepping out of the narrow -frame with long draperies held by jewelled clasps and girdle, with -pearls on head and bosom, carrying a book and a pen (or was it a palm?) -and—yes! he saw it plainly with terror—with her left breast -pierced by a dagger. He saw it there plainly as if the blow had been struck -before his eyes. The released hilt seemed to vibrate yet, while the eyes -looked straight at him, profound, unconscious in miraculous tranquillity. -</p> - -<p> -Terror-struck as if at the discovery of a crime, he jumped up, trembling -in every limb. He had a horror of the room, of being alone within its -four bare walls on which there were no pictures except that awful one -which seemed to hang in the air before his eyes. Cosmo felt that he must -get away from it. He snatched up his cloak and hat and fled into the -corridor. The hour was late and everything was very still. He did not -see as much as a flitting shadow on the bare rough walls of the -unfinished palace awaiting the decoration of marbles and bronzes that -would never cover its nakedness now. The dwelling of the Grazianis stood -as dumb and cold in all its lofty depths as at that desolate hour of the -dreadful siege, when its owner lay dead of hunger at the foot of the -great flight of stairs. It was only in the hall below that Cosmo caught -from behind one of the closed doors faint, almost ghostly, murmurs of -disputing voices. The two hanging lanterns could not light up that -grandly planned cavern in all its extent, but Cosmo made out a dim shape -of the elderly lieutenant sitting all alone and perfectly still against -the wall, with a bottle of wine before him. By the time he had reached -the pavement Cosmo had mastered his trembling and had steadied his -thoughts. He wanted to keep away from that house for hours, for hours. -He glanced right and left, hesitating. In the whole town he knew only -the way to the Palazzo and the way to the port. He took the latter -direction. He walked by the faint starlight falling into the narrow -streets resembling lofty unroofed corridors as if the whole town had -been one palace, recognizing on his way the massive shape of one or two -jutting balconies he remembered seeing before, and also a remarkable -doorway, the arch of which was held up by bowed giants with flowing -beards, like two captive sons of the god of the sea. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>III</h4> - -<p> -At the moment when Cosmo was leaving his room to escape the haunting -vision of an old picture representing a beautiful martyr with a dagger -in her breast. Doctor Martel was at work finishing what he called a -confidential memorandum which he proposed to hand over to the Marquis -d'Armand. The doctor applied very high standards of honour and fidelity -to his appreciation of men's character. He had a very great respect for -the old Marquis. He was anxious to make him the recipient of that crop -of valuable out-of-the-way information interesting to the French -Bourbons which he had gathered lately. -</p> - -<p> -Having sat up half the night, he slept late and was just finishing -shaving when, a little before eleven o'clock, there was a knock at his -door and Cantelucci entered. The innkeeper offered no apology for this -intrusion, but announced without preliminaries that the young English -gentleman had vanished during the night from the inn. The woman who took -the chocolate in the morning upstairs found no servant ready to receive -it as usual. The bedroom door was ajar. After much hesitation she had -ventured to put her head through. The shutters being open, she had seen -that the bed had not been slept in. . . . The doctor left off dabbing -his cheeks with eau de cologne and turned to stare at the innkeeper. At -last he shrugged his shoulders slightly. -</p> - -<p> -Cantelucci took the point immediately. Yes. But in this case it was -impossible to dismiss the affair lightly. The young English signore had -not been much more than forty-eight hours in Genoa. He had no time to -make many acquaintances. And in any case, Cantelucci thought, he ought -to have been back by this time. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor picked up his wig and adjusted it on his head thoughtfully, -like a considering cap. That simple action altered his physiognomy so -completely that Cantelucci was secretly affected. He made one of his -austerely deferential bows, which seemed to put the whole matter into -the doctor's hands at once. -</p> - -<p> -"You seem very much upset," said the doctor. "Have you seen his servant? -He must know something." -</p> - -<p> -"I doubt it. Excellency. He has been upstairs to open the shutters, of -course. He is now at the front door, looking out. I did speak to him. He -had too much wine last evening and fell asleep with his head on the -table. I saw him myself before I retired." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor preserving a sort of watchful silence, Cantelucci added that -he, himself, had retired early on account of one of those periodical -headaches he had suffered from since the days of his youth when he had -been chained up in the dungeons of St. Elmo for months. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor thought the fellow did look as though he had had a bad night. -"Why didn't you come to see me? You know I can cure worse ailments." -</p> - -<p> -The innkeeper raised his hands in horror at the mere idea. He would -never have dared to disturb His Excellency for such a trifle as a -headache. But the cause of his trouble was quite other. A partisan of -the revolutionary French from his early youth, Cantelucci had been an -active conspirator against the old order of things. Now that kings and -priests were raising their heads out of the dust he had again become -very busy. The latest matter in hand had been the sending of some -important documents to the conspirators in the South. He had found the -messenger, had taken steps for getting him away secretly, had given him -full instructions the last thing before going to bed. The young fellow -was brave, intelligent, and resourceful, beyond the common. But somehow -the very perfection of his arrangements kept the old conspirator awake. -He reviewed them again and again. He could not have done better. At last -he fell asleep, but almost immediately, it seemed to him, he was roused -by the old crone whose task it was to light the fires in the morning. -Sordid and witchlike, she conveyed to him in a toothless mumble the -intelligence that Checca was in the kitchen, all in tears and demanding -to see him at once. -</p> - -<p> -This Checca was primarily and principally a pretty girl, an orphan left -to his care by his late sister. She was not consulted when her uncle, of -whom she stood in awe, married her to the middle-aged owner of a -wine-shop in the low quarter of the town extending along the shore near -the harbour. He was good-natured, slow-witted, and heavy-handed at -times. But Checca was much less afraid of him than of her austere uncle. -It amused her to be the padrona of an osteria which in the days of -Empire was a notable resort for the officers of French privateers. But -on the peace that clientèle had disappeared and Checca's husband, -leaving the wine-casks to her management, employed his leisure in petty -smuggling operations which kept him away from home. -</p> - -<p> -Cantelucci connected his niece's irruption with some trouble that men -might have got into. He was vexed. He had other matters to think of. He -was astonished by the violence of her grief. When she could speak at -last her tale turned out to be more in the nature of a confession. The -old conspirator could hardly believe his ears when he heard that the man -whom he had trusted had committed the crime of betraying the secrecy of -his mission by going to the osteria late at night to say good-bye to -Checca. She assured him that he had been there only a very few moments. -</p> - -<p> -"What, in a wine-shop! Before all the people! With spies swarming -everywhere!" -</p> - -<p> -"No," she said. It was much later. Everybody was gone. He had scratched -at the barred door. -</p> - -<p> -"And you were on the other side waiting to let him in—miserable -girl," Cantelucci hissed ferociously. -</p> - -<p> -She stared at her terrible uncle with streaming eyes. "Yes, I was." She -had not the heart to refuse him. He stayed only a little moment. . . . -(Cantelucci ground his teeth with rage. It was the first he had heard of -this affair. Here was a most promising plot endangered by this -<i>bestialita.</i>) . . . Only one little hug, and then she pushed him out -herself. Before she had finished putting up the bar she heard a tumult -in the street. Shots, too. Perhaps she would have rushed out but her -husband was home for a few days. He came down to the wine-shop very -cross and boxed her ears, she did not know why. Perhaps for being in the -shop at that late hour. That did not matter; but he drove her before him -up the stairs and she had to sham sleep for hours till he began to snore -regularly. She had grown so desperate that she took the risk of running -out and telling her uncle all about it. She thought he ought to know. -What brought her to the inn really was a faint hope that Attilio, having -eluded the assassins (she was sure they were assassins), had taken -refuge there unscathed—or wounded perhaps. She said nothing of this, -however. Before Cantelucci's stony bearing she broke down. "He is -dead—<i>poverino.</i> My own hands pushed him to his death," she -moaned to herself crazily, standing in front of her silent uncle before -the blazing kitchen fire in the yet slumbering house. -</p> - -<p> -Rage kept Cantelucci dumb. He was as shocked by what he had heard as the -most rigid moralist could desire. But he was a conspirator, and all he -could see in this was the criminal conduct of those young people who -ought to have thought of nothing but the liberation of Italy. For -Attilio had taken the oath of the Carbonari; and Checca belonged to the -women's organization of that secret society. She was an <i>ortolana</i>, as -they called themselves. He had initiated her and was responsible for her -conduct. The baseness—the stupidity—the frivolity—the -selfishness! -</p> - -<p> -By severe exercise of self-restraint he refrained from throwing her out -into the street all in tears as she was. He only muttered awfully at -her, "Get out of my sight, you little fool," with a menacing gesture; -but she stood her ground; she never flinched before his raised hand. And -as it fell harmless by his side she seized it in both her own, pressing -it to her lips and breast in turn, whispering the while all sorts of -endearing names at the infuriated Cantelucci. He heard the sounds of his -staff beginning the work of the day, their voices, their footsteps. They -would wonder—but his niece did not care. She clung to his hand, and -he did not get rid of her till he had actually promised to send her news -directly he had heard something himself. And she even thought of the -means. There was that fine sailor with black whiskers in attendance on -the English officers frequenting the hotel. He was a good-natured man. -He knew the way to the wine-shop. -</p> - -<p> -This reminded her of her husband. What if he should wake in her absence? -And still distracted, she ran off at last, leaving Cantelucci to face -the situation. -</p> - -<p> -He was dismayed. He did not really know what had happened—not to his -messenger but to the documents. The old conspirator, battling with his -thoughts, moved so silent and stern amongst his people that nobody dared -approach him for a couple of hours. And when they did at last come to -him with the news of the young "milord's" disappearance he simply swore -at them. But as the morning advanced he came to the conclusion that for -various reasons it would be best for him to seek his old benefactor. He -did so with a harassed face which caused the doctor to believe in the -story of a sleepless night. Of course he spoke only of Cosmo's absence. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor, leaning back against the edge of his dressing table, gazed -silently at the innkeeper. He was profoundly disturbed by the -intelligence. "Got your snuffbox on you?" he asked. -</p> - -<p> -The alacrity of Cantelucci in producing his snuffbox was equalled by the -deferential flourish with which he held it out to his benefactor. -</p> - -<p> -"The young English signore," he remarked, "visited the Palazzo of the -Griffins the evening before." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor helped himself to a pinch. "He didn't spend the night there, -though," he observed. "You know who lives in the Palazzo, don't you, -Cantelucci?" -</p> - -<p> -"Some Piedmontese general, I understand, Your Excellency," said -Cantelucci, who had been in touch with Count Helion ever since the -Austrian occupation, and had even forwarded secretly one or two letters -for the Count to Elba. But these were addressed to a grain merchant in -Porto Ferraio. "I will open all my mind to Your Excellency," continued -Cantelucci. "An English milord is a person of consequence. If I were to -report his disappearance the police would be coming here to make -investigation. I don't want any police in my house." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor lost his meditative air. "I daresay you don't," he said -grimly. -</p> - -<p> -"I recommend myself to Your Excellency's protective influence," murmured -Cantelucci insinuatingly. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor let drop the pinch of snuff between his thumb and finger. -"And he may have come back while we are talking here," he said -hopefully. "Go down, Cantelucci, and send me my courier." -</p> - -<p> -But the doctor's man was already at the door, bringing the brushed -clothes over his arm. While dressing, the doctor speculated on the -mystery. It baffled all his conjectures. A man may go out in the evening -for a breath of fresh air and get knocked on the head. But how unlikely! -He spoke casually to his man who was ministering to him in gloomy -silence. -</p> - -<p> -"You will have to step over to the police presently and find out whether -anything has happened last night. Do it quietly." -</p> - -<p> -"I understand," said the courier surlily. The thought that the fellow -had been drunk recently crossed the doctor's mind. -</p> - -<p> -"Whom were you drinking with last night?" he asked sharply. -</p> - -<p> -"The English servant," confessed the courier-valet grumpily. "His master -let him off his services last night." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. And you made him pay the shot." With these words the doctor left -the room. While crossing the great hall downstairs he had the view of -Spire's back framed in the entrance doorway. The valet had not -apparently budged from there since seven. So Mr. Latham had not -returned. In the dining room there were only two naval officers at the -table reserved for them: the elderly gentleman in his usual place at the -head, and a round-faced florid person in a bobbed wig, who might have -been the ship's surgeon. During their meal the doctor did not hear them -exchange a single remark. They went away together, and after the last of -the town customers had left the room, too, the doctor sat alone before -his table, toying with a half-empty glass thoughtfully. His grave face -was startlingly at variance with the short abrupt laugh which he emitted -as he rose, pushing his chair back. It was provoked by the thought that -only last evening he had been urging half jestingly his young countryman -to leave Genoa in one of the conventional ways, by road or sea, and now -he was gone with a vengeance—spirited away, by Jove! The doctor was -startled at the profound change of his own feelings. Count Helion's -venomous, "I don't want that popinjay here" did not sound so funny in -his recollection now. Very extraordinary things could and did happen -under the run of everyday life. Was it possible that the word of the -riddle could be found there? he asked himself. -</p> - -<p> -This investigator of the secret discontents and aspirations of his time -had never shut his ears to the mere social gossip that came in his way. -He had lived long, he remembered much. For instance, he could remember -things that were said about Sir Charles Latham long before Cosmo was -born. As to the story of the Montevesso marriage, that had made noise -enough in its time in society and also amongst the French émigrés. Its -celebration, the subsequent differences, reconciliations, -recriminations, and final arrangement had kept idle tongues wagging for -years. Of course it was that match which had given that dubious -Montevesso his social standing; and what followed had invested that -absurd individual with the celebrity of a character out of a Molière -comedy: "Le Jaloux." The elderly jealous husband. Comic enough. But that -was the sort of comedy that soon takes a tragic turn. A special -provocation, a sudden opportunity are enough. What puzzled the doctor -was the suddenness of the problem. Yet one could not tell what an -orientalized brute, no stranger probably to palace murders, had not the -means of doing. He might have been harbouring in that barn of a palace -some retainers of a deadly kind. A Corsican desperado, or a couple of -rascals from his own native mountains. Had he not two unattractive old -peasant women concealed there? -</p> - -<p> -The doctor believed that unlikely things happened every day. This view -was not the result of inborn credulity but of much acquired knowledge of -a secret sort. A serious, fastidious, and obviously earnest-minded young -man, like Latham, was particularly liable to get into trouble of a grave -kind. A manifestation of perfectly innocent sympathy could do it, and -even less. An unguarded glance. An unconscious warmth of tone. Confound -it! Yet he could not let a young countryman of his, a nice, likable -young gentleman, vanish from under his nose without taking some steps. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor stepped out into the hall, attractively dim and cool in the -middle of the day. Spire had disappeared, but the doctor had given up -the hope of Cosmo's return. In a dark corner he perceived the shadowy -shape of a cocked hat, and made out the old lieutenant leaning back -against the wall with his arms crossed and his chin on his breast. He -had a bottle of wine and a glass standing in front of him. -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose," thought the doctor, "this is what he comes ashore for." -</p> - -<p> -The product of twenty years of war. The reeking loom that converted such -as he into food for guns had stopped suddenly. There would be no demand -for heroes for a long, long time, and somehow the fact that the fellow -had all his limbs about him made him even more pathetic. The doctor had -almost forgotten Cosmo. He did not notice Spire coming down the stairs, -and he started at the sound of the words, "I beg your pardon, sir," -uttered almost in his ears. The elderly valet was very much shaken. He -said in a low murmur, "I am nearly out of my mind, sir. My master . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"I know," interrupted the doctor. He pounced upon Spire like a bird of -prey. "Come, what do you know about it?" -</p> - -<p> -This reception roused Spire's dislike of that sour and off-hand person -like no medical man he had ever seen and certainly no gentleman. On the -principle, "like master like man," Spire was more sensitive to manner -than to any trait of personality. He pulled himself together and -steadied his voice. "I know nothing, sir, except that you were the last -person seen speaking to Mr. Latham." -</p> - -<p> -"You don't think I have got him in my pocket, do you?" asked Doctor -Martel, noting the hostile stare. "Don't you attend your master when he -retires for the night?" -</p> - -<p> -"I got dismissed early last night. I am sorry to say I sat downstairs -after supper very late, listening to tales about one thing and another. -I . . . I went to sleep there," added Spire with a sort of desperation. -</p> - -<p> -"Listening to tales," repeated the doctor jeeringly. "Pretty tales they -must have been, too. Zillers is no company for a respectable English -servant. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Well, and then?" -</p> - -<p> -"I went up, sir, and . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"In the middle of the night," suggested the doctor. -</p> - -<p> -"It was pretty late. I . . ." -</p> - -<p> -He faltered at the remembrance. The waking up in the cold dark kitchen, -the cold dark staircase, the light shining through the keyhole of Mr. -Cosmo's bedroom, the first vague feeling that there was something wrong, -the empty room. And most awful of all, the bed not slept in, and the -candles in the candelabras burning low. He remembered his horror, -incredulity, his collapse into an armchair where he sat till broad -daylight in a pitiable state of mental agitation. -</p> - -<p> -A slight tremor passed through his portly frame before he forced himself -to speak. -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Latham had emptied his pockets, sir, as if he were making ready to -go to bed. All the change and the keys were lying on the mantelpiece. -One would think he had been kidnapped. Of course it can't be," he added -in a low, intense tone. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you mean to say he disappeared without his hat?" asked the doctor. -</p> - -<p> -"No, sir, hat and cloak aren't there." And to the doctor's further -questions Spire confessed that he had spoken to no one in the house that -morning. He would only have been told lies. He did not think much of the -people in the inn. -</p> - -<p> -"So I took the liberty of speaking to you, sir. Mr. Latham may turn up -any moment and I don't know that he would like to find that I have been -to the police already." -</p> - -<p> -"No, perhaps he wouldn't," assented the doctor reflectively. -</p> - -<p> -"That's just it, sir," murmured Spire. "Mr. Cosmo is a very peculiar -young gentleman. He doesn't like notice to be taken." -</p> - -<p> -"Doesn't he? Well then, you had better wait before you go to the police. -We had better give him till four o'clock." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, sir," said Spire, fighting down his feeling that nothing in -the world would be worse than this waiting. The doctor nodded dismissal, -then at the last moment: -</p> - -<p> -"By the by, hadn't you better look up all the papers that may be lying -about?" -</p> - -<p> -Spire was favourably impressed by the suggestion. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir, we have a small strong box with us. I will go and do it at -once." -</p> - -<p> -During that colloquy, conducted in low tones at the foot of the grand -staircase, nobody had appeared in the hall. Not even the vigilant -Cantelucci. But the elderly lieutenant had raised his head, and his dull -uninterested eyes followed the doctor across the hall and out through -the door into the sunshine of the square. In all its vast and paved -extent only very few figures were moving. The doctor's tastes and even -his destiny had made of him a nocturnal visitor to the abodes of the -great. At this time of the day, however, there was almost as little risk -of being seen entering the Palace of the Griffins as in the middle of -the night. The populace, the shopkeepers, the Austrian garrison, the -gendarmes, the <i>sbirri</i>, the spies, and even the conspirators were -indulging in midday repose. The very team of dapple-gray horses, -harnessed to an enormous two-wheeled cart drawn up in the shade, dozed -over their empty nosebags. Dogs slumbered in the doorways in utter -abandonment; and only the bronze griffins seated on their narrow -pedestals of granite before the doorway of the Palace preserved their -alert wide-awake pose of everlasting watchfulness. They were really very -fine. And the doctor gave them an appreciative glance before crossing -the empty quadrangle. He felt the only wide-awake person in a slumbering -world. He wondered if he would succeed in getting admitted to the -Palace. If not, he confessed to himself, he would be at a loss what to -do next. Very disagreeable. He had, however, the memorandum for the -Marquis in his pocket as a pretext for his visit. -</p> - -<p> -All was still without and within; but in the noble anteroom at the foot -of the marble staircase he was met by a sight characteristic of the easy -Italian ways. Extended face downward on one of the red and gold benches, -one of the footmen in shirt-sleeves and with his breeches untied at the -knees was sleeping profoundly. His dishevelled head rested on his -forearm. At an unceremonious poke in the ribs he jumped up to his feet, -looking scared and wild. But Doctor Martel was ready for him. -</p> - -<p> -"What's the matter, my friend?" he asked softly. "Is there a price set -on your head?" -</p> - -<p> -The man remained open-mouthed as if paralysed by the caustic enquiry. -</p> - -<p> -"Fetch the major-domo here," commanded the doctor, thinking that he had -seldom seen a more bandit-like figure. While waiting, the doctor -reflected that a livery coat was a good disguise. It occurred to him -also that in the house of a man having such retainers all sorts of -things might happen. This was Italy. The silence as of a tomb, which -pervaded the whole house, though nothing extraordinary in the hour of -siesta, produced the effect of sinister mystery. The arrival of the -sleek Bernard did not destroy that bad impression. The doctor, who had -never seen him before by daylight, said to himself that this was no -doubt only another kind of villain. On learning that the Marquis had -been very ill during the night and that Bernard could not think of -taking in his name, the doctor inquired whether Madame de Montevesso -would see him on most important business. To his great relief (because -he had been asking himself all along how he could contrive to get -private speech with the Countess) Bernard raised no objections. He -simply went away. And again the dumbness around him grew oppressive to -Doctor Martel. He fell into a brown study. This palace, famed for the -treasures of art, for the splendours of its marbles and paintings and -gildings, was no better than a gorgeous tomb. Men's vanity erected these -magnificent abodes only to receive in them the unavoidable guest. Death, -with all the ceremonies of superstitious fear. The sense of human -mortality evoked by this dumb palazzo was very disagreeable. He was -relieved by the return of the noiseless Bernard, all in black and grave -like a sleek caretaker of that particular tomb, who stood before him -saying in a low voice: "Follow me, please." -</p> - -<p> -Bernard introduced the doctor into a comparatively small, well-lighted -boudoir. At the same moment Madame de Montevesso entered it from her -bedroom by another door. The doctor had an impression of a gown with a -train, trimmed with ribbons and lace, surmounted by a radiant fair head. -The face was pale. Madame de Montevesso had been up most of the night -with her father. The Marquis was too ill to see anybody. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor expressed his regret in a formal tone. Meantime he took out -of his pocket the memoir and begged Madame la Comtesse to keep it under -lock and key till she could hand it over to her father. He was also in -possession of information which, he said, would be of the greatest -interest to the French court; but he could disclose it only to the -French King or to Monsieur de Jaucourt. He was ready to proceed to Paris -should the Marquis be impressed sufficiently by the memoir to procure -for him a private audience from the King or the minister. -</p> - -<p> -This curt, businesslike declaration called out a smile on that charming -face—just a flicker—a suspicion of it. He could not be -offended with that glorious being. He felt only that he must assert -himself. -</p> - -<p> -"I cannot deal with lesser people," he said simply. "This must be -understood in Paris. I make my own conditions. I am not a hireling. Your -father has known me for years. Monsieur le Marquis and I met in other, -dangerous times, in various parts of Europe. Each of us was risking his -life." -</p> - -<p> -The Marquis had often talked with his daughter of his past. She had -heard from him of a certain agent Martel, a singular personage. Her -curiosity was aroused. She said: -</p> - -<p> -"I know. I believe he was indebted to you for his safety on one -occasion. I can understand my father's motives. But you will forgive me -for saying that as to yours . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! It was not the love of absolutism. The fact is, I discovered early -in life that I was not made for a country practice. I started on my -travels with no definite purpose, except to do a little good—here and -there. I arrived in Italy while it was being revolutionized by Jacobins. -I was not in love with them either. Humane impulses, circumstances, and -so on, did the rest." -</p> - -<p> -He looked straight at her. This tête-à-tête was a unique experience. -She was a marvellous being somehow and a very great lady. And yet she was -as simple as a village maid—a glorified village maid. The trials of -a life of exile and poverty had stripped her of the faintest trace of -affectation or artificiality of any kind. The doctor was lost in wonder. -What humanizing force there was in the beauty of that face to make him -talk like that the first time he saw her! And suddenly the thought, "her -face has been her fortune," came to him with great force, evoking by the -side of her noble unconscious grace the stiff wooden figure of Count de -Montevesso. The effect was horrible, but the doctor's hard gray eyes -betrayed neither his horror nor his indignation. He only asked Madame de -Montevesso, who was locking up his memoir in the drawer of a little -writing table, if it would be safe there, and was told that nobody ever -came into the room but a confidential mulatto maid who had been with the -Countess for years. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, as far as you know," the doctor ventured significantly. With this -beginning he found no difficulty in discovering that Madame de -Montevesso knew nothing of the composition of the household. She did not -know how many servants there were. She had not been interested enough to -look over the Palazzo. Apart from the private apartments and the suite -of rooms for small receptions she had seen nothing of it, she confessed, -looking a little surprised. It was clear that she knew nothing, -suspected nothing, had lived in that enormous and magnificent building -like a lost child in a forest. The doctor felt himself at the end of his -resources, till it occurred to him to say that he hoped that she was not -specially anxious about her father. No, Madame de Montevesso was not -specially anxious. He seemed better this morning. Doctor Martel was very -much gratified; and then, by a sudden inspiration, added that it would -be a pleasure to give the good news to Mr. Latham whom he hoped to see -this evening. -</p> - -<p> -Madame de Montevesso turned rigid with surprise for a moment at the -sound of that name. "You have met Mr. Latham . . ." she faltered out. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! By the merest chance. We are staying at the same inn. He shares my -table. He is very attractive." -</p> - -<p> -Madame de Montevesso looked no longer as though she expected her visitor -to go away. The doctor had just time to note the change before he was -asked point-blank: -</p> - -<p> -"Did Mr. Latham tell you that he was a friend of ours?" -</p> - -<p> -He answered evasively that he knew very little about Mr. Latham, except -what he could see for himself—that Mr. Latham was very superior to -the young men of fashion coming over in such numbers from England since -the end of the war. That generation struck him as very crude and utterly -uninteresting. It was different, as far as Mr. Latham was concerned. A -situation had arisen which would make a little information as to his -affairs very desirable. -</p> - -<p> -"Desirable?" repeated Madame de Montevesso in a whisper. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, helpful. . . ." -</p> - -<p> -The deliberate stress which he put on that word augmented Madame de -Montevesso's bewilderment. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't quite understand. In what way? Helpful for you—or helpful -for Mr. Latham?" -</p> - -<p> -"You see," said the doctor slowly, "though our acquaintance was short my -interest was aroused. I am a useful person to know for those who travel -in Italy." -</p> - -<p> -Madame de Montevesso sank into a <i>bergère</i>, pointing at the same time -to a chair which faced it. But the doctor, after a slight bow, only -rested his hand on its high back. At the end of five minutes Adèle was -in possession of all the doctor knew about Cosmo's disappearance. She -sat silent, her head drooped, her eyes cast down. The doctor was -beginning to feel restive when she spoke, without looking up. -</p> - -<p> -"And this is the real motive for your visit here." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor was moved by the hopeless tone. It might have been an attempt -to appear indifferent, but, only in a moment, she seemed to have become -lifeless. -</p> - -<p> -"Well," he said, "on the spur of the moment it seemed the only thing to -do. . . . There is somebody in the next room. May I shut the door?" -</p> - -<p> -"It's only my maid," said Madame de Montevesso. "She couldn't hear us -from there." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, then perhaps we had better leave the door as it is. It's best to -avoid all appearance of secrecy." The doctor was thinking of Count -Helion, but Madame de Montevesso made no sign. The doctor lowered his -voice still more. -</p> - -<p> -"I wanted to ask you if you had seen him yesterday—last night. No? -But he may have called without your knowledge." -</p> - -<p> -She admitted that it was possible. People had been sent away from the -door on account of her father's illness. There had been no reception in -the evening. But Mr. Latham would have asked for her. She thought she -would have been told. The doctor suggested that Mr. Latham might have -asked for the Count. Madame de Montevesso had only seen her husband for -a moment in her father's bedroom the day before, and not at all yet this -day. For all she knew he may have been away for the day on a visit in -the country. "But I know nothing of his interests, really," she said in -a little less deadened voice. -</p> - -<p> -She could not explain to the doctor that she was a stranger in that -house; an unwilling visitor with an unsympathetic host whose motives one -cannot help suspecting. Beyond the time she spent by arrangement every -year at Count de Montevesso's country house she knew nothing of his -life. What could have been the motives which brought him to Genoa, she -had and could have not the slightest idea. She only felt that she ought -not to have accepted his pressing invitation to this hired palazzo. But -then she could not have come with her father to Genoa. And yet he could -not have done without her. And indeed it seemed but a small thing. The -alarming thought crossed her mind that, all unwittingly, she had taken a -fatal step. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor, who had quite an accurate notion of the state of affairs, -hastened to say: -</p> - -<p> -"After all, I don't know that this is of any importance. I have heard -that Mr. Latham was busy writing all yesterday. If he had come to Italy -with some sort of purpose," he continued as if arguing with himself, -"one could . . ." Then sharply: "You couldn't tell me anything, could -you?" he asked Adèle. -</p> - -<p> -"This is the first time I have seen him for ten years." Madame de -Montevesso raised her eyes, full of trouble, to the doctor's face. -"Since we were children together in Yorkshire. We talked of old times. -Only of old times," she repeated. -</p> - -<p> -"Of course—very natural," mumbled the doctor. He made the mental -remark that one did not disappear like this after talking of old times. -And aloud he said, "I suppose Mr. Latham made the acquaintance of Count de -Montevesso." -</p> - -<p> -"Certainly." -</p> - -<p> -"I presume that they had an opportunity to have a conversation -together." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't think that Cosmo—that Mr. Latham made any confidences to -Count de Montevesso." While saying those words Adèle looked the doctor -straight in the face. -</p> - -<p> -He was asking himself whether she could read his thoughts, when she got -up suddenly and walked away to the window, without haste and with a -grace of movement which aroused the doctor's admiration. He could not -tell her what he had in his mind. He looked irresolutely at the figure -in the window. It was growing enigmatic in its immobility. He began to -feel some little awe, when he heard unexpectedly the words: -</p> - -<p> -"You suspect a crime?" -</p> - -<p> -The doctor could not guess the effort which went to the uttering of -those few words. It was the stunning force of the shock which enabled -Adèle de Montevesso to appear so calm. It was the general humanity of -Doctor Martel's disposition which dictated his answer. -</p> - -<p> -"I suspect some imprudence," he admitted in an easy tone. At that moment -he drew the gloomiest view of Cosmo's disappearance, from the sinister -conviction that twenty-four hours was enough to arrange an -assassination. "The difficulty is to imagine a cause for it. To find the -motive. . . ." -</p> - -<p> -Madame de Montevesso continued to face the window as if lost in the -contemplation of a vast landscape. "And you came to look for it here," -she said. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't think I need to apologize," he said, with a movement of -annoyance like a man who has received a home thrust. "Of course I might -have simply gone about my own affairs, which are of some importance to a -good many people. My advice to Mr. Latham was to leave Genoa, since he -did not seem to have any object in remaining and seemed to have a -half-formed wish to visit Elba. I suggested Leghorn as the best port for -crossing over." -</p> - -<p> -It was impossible to say whether the woman at the window was listening -to him at all. She did not stir, she seemed to have forgotten his -existence. But that immobility might have been also the effect of -concentrated attention. He made up his mind to go on speaking. -</p> - -<p> -"His mind, his imagination seemed very busy wit! Napoleon. It seemed to -me the only reason for his travels." He paused. -</p> - -<p> -"I believe the only reason for Mr. Latham coming to Genoa was to see -us." Madame de Montevesso turned round and moved back towards the -<i>bergère.</i> She was extremely pale. "I mean Father and myself," she -explained. "He came to see me the day before yesterday in the morning. I -invited him to our usual evening reception. He stayed after everybody -else was gone. I asked him to. But my father needed me and I had to -leave Mr. Latham with Monsieur de Montevesso." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor interrupted her gently. "I know, Madame. I was in the Palazzo -with the Marquis, in the very room, when he sent for your husband." -</p> - -<p> -"I forgot," confessed Madame de Montevesso simply. "But Mr. Latham got -back to his inn safely." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. He was writing letters next day till late in the evening, and -seems to have been spirited away in the middle of that occupation. But -people like Mr. Latham are not spirited out of their bedrooms by main -force. I advised the servant to wait till four o'clock, then I came -straight here." -</p> - -<p> -"Till four o'clock," repeated Madame de Montevesso under her breath. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor, a man of special capacity in confronting enigmatical -situations, showed himself as perplexed before this one as the most -innocent of mortals. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know. It seems to me that a man who puts on his hat and cloak -before vanishing like this must turn up again. He ought to be given a -chance to do so at any rate. He left all his money behind, too. I mean -even to the small change." -</p> - -<p> -The glimpse of helpless concern in that man affected Adèle with a -feeling of actual bodily anguish. She got brusquely out of the -<i>bergère</i> and moved into the middle of the room. The doctor, letting -go the back of the chair, turned to face her. -</p> - -<p> -"I am appalled," she murmured. -</p> - -<p> -This came out as if extracted from her by torture. It moved the doctor -more than anything he had heard for years. His voice sank into a -soothing murmur. -</p> - -<p> -"I do believe, Madame, that if there had been a murder committed last -night anywhere in this town I would have heard something about it this -morning. My inn is just the place for such news. I will go back there -now. I shall question his servant again. He may give us a gleam of -light." -</p> - -<p> -Her intent, distressed gaze was unbearable, yet held him bound to the -spot. It was difficult to abandon a woman in that state! He became aware -of the sound of voices outside the door. Some sort of dispute. He -hastened to make his bow, and Madame de Montevesso, moving after him, -whispered eagerly: "Yes! A gleam of light! Do let me know. I won't draw -a free breath till I hear something." -</p> - -<p> -Her extended arms dropped by her side a moment before the door flew open -and Bernard was heard announcing with calm formality: -</p> - -<p> -"Signorina Clelia." -</p> - -<p> -The doctor, turning away from Madame de Montevesso, saw "that little -wretch" standing just within the room, evidently very much taken aback -by the unexpected meeting. He guessed that she had snatched at some -opportunity to escape from the old women. It had given her no time to -pull on her stockings, a fact made evident by the shortness of the dark -petticoat which, with a white jacket, comprised all her costume. She had -managed to thrust her bare feet into a pair of old slippers, and her -loose hair, tied with a blue ribbon at the back of her head, produced a -most incongruous effect of neatness. Her invasion was alarming and -inexplicable. The doctor, as he passed out, compressed his lips and -stared fiercely with some idea of scaring her into good behaviour. She -met this demonstration with a round stupid stare of astonishment. The -next moment he found himself outside in the corridor alone with Bernard, -who had shut the door quietly and remained with his back to it. The -exasperated doctor looked him up and down coolly. -</p> - -<p> -"How long have you been in the habit of hanging about your lady's door, -my friend?" he asked with ominous familiarity. -</p> - -<p> -The simple-minded factotum of the London days, the love-lorn naïve -swain of the mulatto maid, was a figure of the past now. The doctor was -confronted by a calm unmoved servant of much experience, somewhat -inclining to stoutness, made respectable by the black well-fitting -clothes. He did not flinch at the question, but he took his time. At -last he said with the utmost placidity: -</p> - -<p> -"Many years now. Pretty near all my life." -</p> - -<p> -The tone was well calculated to surprise the doctor. Taking advantage of -the latter's silence, Bernard paused before he continued reasonably: -"Was I to let her rush in unannounced on Madame la Comtesse while you -were there? I tried to send her away but she would think nothing of -filling the air with her screams. I kept her back as long as it was -prudent. . ." He raised his open hand, palm outwards, warning the doctor -to remain silent, while with conscientious gravity he applied his big -ear to the door. When he came away he did not apparently intend to take -any further notice of the doctor, but stood there with an air of perfect -rectitude. -</p> - -<p> -"Is that your constant practice?" asked the astonished doctor, with -curiosity rather than indignation. "Suppose I told on you," he added -with a glance at the door. "Suppose somebody else gave you away. . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"You would not be thanked," was the unexpected answer. -</p> - -<p> -"I wouldn't be believed—is that it? Well, I confess that I can hardly -believe my own eyes." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, you would be believed," was the ready but dispassionate admission. -Bernard's trust in his interlocutor's acuteness was not deceived. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you mean that you have been found out already?" said the doctor in a -changed tone. "Whew! You don't say! Well, stranger things have happened. -Whose old retainer are you?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have always belonged to Madame la Comtesse," said the old retainer -without looking at the doctor, who, after some meditation, accepted the -statement at its face value. -</p> - -<p> -"I am staying at Cantelucci's inn," he said in an ordinary -conversational tone. "And I would be glad to see you there any time you -like to call. Especially if you had anything to tell me of Mr. Latham." -Bernard not responding in any way to that invitation, the doctor added, -"You know what I mean?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes, I know what you mean." That answer came coldly from the lips -of the respectable servant, who said nothing more while conscientiously -escorting the doctor to the anteroom at the foot of the grand staircase. -A little bowed old woman in black clothes clung to the balustrade half -way down the marble steps, in the act of descending, while another, -taller and upright, hovered anxiously on the landing above. Bernard's -scandalized, "Go away! Go back!" sounded irresistibly authoritative. The -doctor had no doubt that it would send the two crones back to their -lair, but he did not stop to see. -</p> - -<p> -Bernard went up the staircase slowly to the first landing, where he -watched the retreat of the two weird apparitions down a long and dim -corridor. They were very much intimidated by this man in black and with -a priestly aspect. One of them, however, made a stand, and screamed in -an angry cracked voice, "Where's the child? The child! We are looking -for her." -</p> - -<p> -"Why don't you take her back to your village and keep her there?" he -cried out sternly. "I have seen her. She won't get lost." -</p> - -<p> -A distant door slammed. They had vanished as if blown away by his voice; -and Bernard with a muttered afterthought, "More's the pity," continued -up one flight of stairs after another till he reached the wilderness of -the garrets that once upon a time had been inhabited by a multitude of -servants and retainers. The room he entered was low and sombre, with -rough walls and a vast bare floor. His wife Aglae sat on the edge of the -bed, with her hands in her lap and downcast eyes which she did not raise -at his entrance. He looked at her with a serious and friendly expression -before he sat down by her side. And even then she did not move. He took -her tragic immobility in silence as a matter of course. His face, which -had never been very mobile, had acquired with years a sort of blank -dignity. It had been the work of years, of those married years which had -crushed the last vestiges of pertness out of the more emotional Aglae. -When she whispered to him, "Bernard, this thing kill me a little every -day," he felt moved to put his arm round his wife's waist and made a -mental remark which always occurred to him poignantly on such occasions, -that she had grown very thin. In the trials of a life which had not kept -its promise of contented bliss, he had been most impressed by the loss -of that plumpness which years ago was so much appreciated by him. It -seemed to give to that plaint which he had heard before more than once -an awful sort of reality, a dreadful precision. . . . A little. . . . -Every day. -</p> - -<p> -He took his arm away brusquely and got up. -</p> - -<p> -"I thought I would find you here," he remarked in an indifferent marital -tone. "That man has gone now," he added. -</p> - -<p> -With a deep sigh the maid of Madame de Montevesso struggled out of the -depths of despondency, only to fall a prey to anxiety. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, Bernard, what did that man want with Miss Adèle?" -</p> - -<p> -Bernard knew enough to have formed a conjecture that English fellow must -have either left some papers or a message for the Marquis with Madame de -Montevesso. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="PART_IV"></a>PART IV</h4> - - -<h4>I</h4> - -<p> -In what seemed to him a very short time Cosmo found himself under the -colonnade separating the town piled upon the hills from the flat ground -of the waterside. A profound quietness reigned on the darkly polished -surface of the harbour and the long, incurved range of the quays. This -quietness that surrounded him on all sides through which, beyond the -spars of clustered coasters, he could look at the night-horizon of the -open sea, relieved that fantastic feeling of confinement within his own -body with its intolerable tremors and shrinkings and imperious -suggestions. Mere weaknesses all. His desire, however, to climb to the -top of the tower, as if only there complete relief could be found for -his captive spirit, was as strong as ever. -</p> - -<p> -The only light on shore he could see issued in a dim streak from the -door of the guardhouse which he had passed on his return from the tower -on his first evening in Genoa. As he did not wish to pass near the -Austrian sentry at the head of the landing-steps, Cosmo, instead of -following the quay, kept under the portico at the back of the -guardhouse. When he came to its end he had a view of the squat bulk of -the tower across a considerable space of flat waste ground extending to -the low rocks of the seashore. He made for it with the directness of a -man possessed by a fixed idea. When he reached the iron-studded low door -within the deep dark archway at the foot of the tower he found it -immovable. Locked! How stupid! As if those heavy ship guns up there -could be stolen! Disappointed, he leaned his shoulders against the side -of the deep arch, lingering as people will before the finality of a -closed door or of a situation without issue. -</p> - -<p> -His superstitious mood had left him. An old picture was an old picture; -and probably the face of that noble saint copied from an old triptych -and of Madame de Montevesso were not at all alike. At most, a suggestion -which may have been the doing of the copyist and so without meaning. A -copyist is not an inspired person; not a seer of visions. He felt -critical, almost ironic, towards the Cosmo of the morning, the Cosmo of -the day, the Cosmo rushing away like a scared child from a fanciful -resemblance, that probably did not even exist. What was he doing there? -He might have asked the way to the public gardens. Lurking within the -dark archway, muffled up in his blue cloak, he was a suspect figure like -an ambushed spadassin waiting for his victim, or a conspirator hiding -from the minions of a tyrant. "I am perfectly ridiculous," he thought. -"I had better go back as soon as I can." This was his sudden conclusion, -but he did not move. It struck him that he was not anxious to face his -empty room. Was he ready to get into another panic? he asked himself -scornfully. . . . At that moment he heard distinctly the sound of -whispering as if through the wall, or from above or from the ground. He -held his breath. The whispering went on, loquacious. When it stopped, -another voice, as low but deeper and more distinct, muttered the words: -"The hour is past." -</p> - -<p> -Ha! Whispers in the air, sounds wandering without bodies, as mysterious -as though they had come across a hundred miles, for he had heard no -footsteps, no rustle, no sound of any sort. Nothing but the two voices. -They were so weirdly disembodied and unbelievable that he had to clothe -them in attributes: the excitable—the morose. They were quite near. -But he did not know on which side of the arch within which he was hiding. -For he was frankly hiding now—no doubt about it. He had remembered -that he had left his pistols by his bedside. And he was certain he would -hear the voices again. The wait seemed long before the fluent-loquacious -came back through space and was punctually followed by the deep voice -which this time emitted only an unintelligible grunt. -</p> - -<p> -The disagreeable sense of having no means of defence in case of -necessity prevented Cosmo from leaving the shelter of the deep arch. Two -men, the excitable and the morose, were within a foot of him. -Remembering that the tower was accessible on its seaward face, Cosmo -surmised that they had just landed from a boat and had crept round -barefooted, secret and, no doubt, ready to use their knives. Smugglers -probably. That they should ply their trade within three hundred yards of -the guardroom with a sentry outside did not surprise him very much. -These were Austrian soldiers, ignorant of local conditions and certainly -not concerned with the prevention of smuggling. Why didn't these men go -about their business, then? The road was clear. But perhaps they had -gone? It seemed to him he had been there glued to that door for an hour. -As a matter of fact it was not ten minutes. Cosmo, who had no mind to be -stabbed through a mere mistake as to his character, was just thinking of -making a dash in the direction of the guardhouse when the morose but -cautiously lowered voice began, close to the arch, abruptly: "Where did -the beast get to? I thought a moment ago he was coming. Didn't you think -too that there were footsteps—just as we landed?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo's uplifted foot came down to the ground. Of the excitable -whisperer's long rigmarole not a word could be made out. Cosmo imagined -him short and thick. The other, whom Cosmo pictured to himself as lean -and tall, uttered the word, "Why?" The excitable man hissed fiercely: -"To say good-bye."—"Devil take all these women," commented the -morose voice dispassionately. The whisper, now raised to the pitch of a -strangled wheeze, remarked with some feeling: "He may never see her -again." -</p> - -<p> -It was clear they had never even dreamt of any human being besides -themselves having anything to do on this part of the shore at this hour -of the night. "Won't they be frightened when I rush out," thought Cosmo -taking off his cloak and throwing it over his left forearm. If it came -to an encounter he could always drop it. But he did not seriously think -that he would be reduced to using his fists. -</p> - -<p> -He judged it prudent to leave the archway with a bound which would get -him well clear of the tower, and on alighting faced about quickly. He -heard an exclamation but he saw no one. They had bolted! He would have -laughed had he not been startled himself by a shot fired somewhere in -the distance behind his back—the most brutally impressive sound that -can break the silence of the night. Instantly, as if it had been a -signal, a lot of shouting broke on his ear, yells of warning and -encouragement, a savage clamour which made him think of a lot of people -pursuing a mad dog. He advanced, however, in the direction of the -portico, wishing himself out of the way of this odious commotion, when -the flash of a musket shot showed him for a moment the tilted head in a -shako and the white cross-belts of an Austrian soldier standing erect in -the middle of the open ground. Cosmo stopped short, then inclined to the -left, moving cautiously and staring into the darkness. The yelling had -died out gradually away from the seashore, where he remembered a cluster -of the poorer sort of houses nestled under the cliffs. He could not -believe that the shot could have been fired at him, till another flash -and report of a musket followed by the whizz of the bullet very near his -hand persuaded him to the contrary. Thinking of nothing but getting out -of the line of fire, he stooped low and ran on blindly till his shoulder -came in contact with some obstacle extremely hard and perfectly -immovable. -</p> - -<p> -He put his hand on it, felt it rough and cold, and discovered it was a -stone, an enormous square block such as are used in building -breakwaters. Several others were lying about in a cluster like a -miniature village on a miniature plain. He crept amongst them, spread -his cloak on the ground, and sat down with his back against one of the -blocks. He wondered at the marvellous eyesight of that confounded -soldier. He was not aware that his dark figure had the starry sky for a -background. "He nearly had me," he thought. His whole being recoiled -with disgust from the risk of getting a musket ball through his body. He -resolved to remain where he was till all that incomprehensible -excitement had quietened down and that brute with wonderful powers of -vision had gone away. Then his road would be clear. He would give him -plenty of time. -</p> - -<p> -The stillness all around continued, becoming more convincing, as the -time passed, inits suggestion of everything being over, convincing -enough to shame timidity itself. Why this reluctance to go back to his -room? What was a room in an inn, in any house? A small portion of space -forced off with bricks or stones in which innumerable individuals had -been alone with their good and evil thoughts, temptations, fears, -troubles of all sorts, and had gone out without leaving a trace. This -train of thought led him to the reflection that no man could leave his -troubles behind . . . never . . . never. . . . "It's no use trying," he -thought with despair. Why should he go to Livorno? What would be the -good of going home? Lengthening the distance would be like lengthening a -chain. What use would it be to get out of sight? . . . "If I were to be -struck blind to-morrow it wouldn't help me." He forgot where he was till -the convincing silence round him crumbled to pieces before a faint and -distant shout which recalled him to the sense of his position. Presently -he heard more shouting, still distant but much nearer. This took his -mind from himself and started his imagination on another track. The man -hunt was not over, then! The fellow had broken cover again and had been -headed towards the tower. He depicted the hunted man to himself as -long-legged, spare, agile, for no other reason than because he wished -him to escape. He wondered whether the soldier with the sharp eyes would -give him a shot. But no shot broke the silence which had succeeded the -distant shouts. Got away perhaps? At least for a time. Very possibly he -had stabbed somebody and . . . by heaven! here he was! -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo had caught the faint sound of running feet on the hard ground. And -even before he had decided that it was no illusion it stopped short and -a bulky object fell hurtling from the sky so near to him that Cosmo -instinctively drew in his legs with a general start of his body which -caused him to knock his hat off against the stone. He became aware of a -man's back almost within reach of his arm. There could be no doubt he -had taken a leap over the stone and had landed squatting on his heels. -Cosmo expected him to rebound and vanish, but he only extended his arm -to seize the hat as it rolled past him and at the same moment pivoted on -his toes, preserving his squatting posture. -</p> - -<p> -"If he happens to have a knife in his hand he will plunge it into me," -thought Cosmo. So without moving a limb he hastened to say in a loud -whisper: "Run to the tower. Your friends are waiting for you." It was a -sudden inspiration. The man without rising flung himself forward full -length and, propped on his arms, brought his face close to Cosmo. His -white eyeballs seemed to be starting out of his head. In this position -the silence between them lasted for several seconds. -</p> - -<p> -"My friends, but who are you?" muttered the man. -</p> - -<p> -And then the recognition came, instantaneous and mutual. Cosmo simply -said, "Hallo!" while the man, letting himself fall to the ground, -uttered in a voice faint with emotion, "My Englishman!" -</p> - -<p> -"There were two of them," said Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"Two? Did they see you?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo assured him that they had not. The other, still agitated by the -unexpectedness of that meeting, asked, incredulous and even a little -suspicious: "What am I to think, then? How could you know that they were -my friends?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo disregarded the question. "You will be caught if you linger here," -he whispered. -</p> - -<p> -The other, as though he had not heard the warning, insisted: "How could -they have mentioned my name to you?" -</p> - -<p> -"They mentioned no names. . . . Run." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't think they are there now," said the fugitive. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. There was noise enough to scare anybody away," commented Cosmo. -"What have you done?" -</p> - -<p> -The other made no answer, and in the pause both men listened intently. -The night remained dark. Cosmo thought: "Some smuggling affair," and the -other muttered to himself, "I have misled them." He sat up by the side -of Cosmo and put Cosmo's hat, which he had been apparently holding all -the time, on the ground between them. -</p> - -<p> -"You are a cool hand," said Cosmo. "The soldiers . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"Who cares for the soldiers? They can't run." -</p> - -<p> -"They have muskets, though." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes. I heard the shots and wondered at whom they were fired." -</p> - -<p> -"At me. That's why I have got in here. There is one of them who can see -in the dark," explained Cosmo, who had been very much impressed. His -friend of the tower emitted a little chuckle. -</p> - -<p> -"And so you have hidden yourself in here. Soldiers, water, and fire soon -make room for themselves. But they did not know who they were after. -They got the alarm from that beast." -</p> - -<p> -He paused suddenly, and Cosmo asked: "Who was after you?" -</p> - -<p> -"One traitor and God knows how many <i>sbirri.</i> If they had been only -ten minutes later they would have never set eyes on me." -</p> - -<p> -"I wonder they didn't manage to cut you off, if they were so many," said -Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"They didn't know. Look! Even now I have deceived them by doubling back. -You see I was in a house." He seemed to hesitate. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes," said Cosmo. "Saying good-bye." -</p> - -<p> -The man by his side made a slight movement and preserved a profound -silence for a time. -</p> - -<p> -"As I have no demon," he began slowly, "to keep me informed about other -people's affairs, I must ask you what you were doing here?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, taking the air like that other evening. But why don't you try to -get away while there is time?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, but where?" -</p> - -<p> -"You were going to leave Genoa," said Cosmo. "Either on a very long or a -very deadly journey." -</p> - -<p> -Again the man by his side made a movement, of surprise and remained -silent for a while. This was very extraordinary, as though some devil -having his own means to obtain knowledge had taken on himself for a -disguise the body of an Englishman of the kind that travels and stays in -inns. The acquaintance of Cosmo's almost first horn in Genoa was very -much puzzled and a little suspicious, not as before something dangerous -but as before something inexplicable, obscure to his mind like the -instruments that fate makes use of sometimes in the affairs of men. -</p> - -<p> -"So you did see two men a little while ago waiting for me?" -</p> - -<p> -"I did not see them. They seemed to think you were late," was the -surprising answer. -</p> - -<p> -"And how do you know they were waiting for me?" -</p> - -<p> -"I didn't," said Cosmo naturally. And the other muttered a remark that -he was glad to hear of something that Cosmo did not know. But Cosmo -continued: "Of course I didn't, not till you jumped in here." -</p> - -<p> -The other made a gesture requesting silence and lent his ear to the -unbroken stillness of the surroundings. -</p> - -<p> -"Signore," he said suddenly in a very quiet and distinct whisper, "it -may be true that I was about to leave this town, but I never thought of -leaving it by swimming. No doubt the noise was enough to frighten -anybody away, but it has been quiet enough now for a long time and I -think that I will crawl on as far as the tower to see whether perchance -they didn't think it worth while to bring their boat back to the foot of -the tower. I have put my enemies off the track and I fancy they are -looking for me in very distant places from here. The treachery, signore, -was not in the telling them where I was. Anybody with eyes could have -seen me walking about Genoa. No, it was in the telling them who I was." -</p> - -<p> -He paused again to listen and suddenly changed his position, drawing in -his legs. -</p> - -<p> -"Well," said Cosmo, "I myself wonder who you are." He noticed the -other's eyes rolling, and the whisper came out of his lips much faster -and, as it were, more confidential. -</p> - -<p> -"Attilio, at your service," the mocking whisper fell into Cosmo's ear. -"I see the signore is not so much of a wizard as I thought." Then with -great rapidity: "Should the signore find something, one never knows, -Cantelucci would be the man to give it to." -</p> - -<p> -And suddenly with a half turn he ran off on all fours, looking for an -instant monstrous and vanishing so suddenly that Cosmo remained -confounded. He was trying to think what all this might mean, when his -ears were invaded by the sound of many footsteps and before he could -make a move to get up he found himself surrounded by quite a number of -men. As a matter of fact there were only four; but they stood close over -him as he sat on the ground, their dark figures blotting all view, with -an overpowering effect. Very prudently Cosmo did not attempt to rise; he -only picked up his hat, and as he did so it seemed to him that there was -something strange about the feel of it. When he put it on his head some -object neither very hard nor very heavy fell on the top of his head. He -repressed the impulse to have a look at once. "What on earth can it be?" -he thought. It felt like a parcel of papers. It was certainly flat. An -awestruck voice said, "That's a foreigner." Another muttered, "What's -this deviltry?" As Cosmo made an attempt to rise with what dignity he -might, the nearest of the band stooped with alacrity and caught hold of -his arm above the elbow as if to help him up, with a muttered, -"<i>Permesso, signore.</i>" And as soon as he regained his feet his other -arm was seized from behind by someone else without any ceremony. A slight -attempt to shake himself free convinced Cosmo that they meant to stick -on. -</p> - -<p> -"Would it be an accomplice?" wondered a voice. -</p> - -<p> -"No. Look at his hat. That's an Englishman." -</p> - -<p> -"So much the worse. They are very troublesome. Authority is nothing to -them." -</p> - -<p> -All this time one or another would take a turn to peer closely into -Cosmo's face, in a way which struck him as offensive. Cosmo had not the -slightest doubt that he was in the hands of the municipal <i>sbirri.</i> -That strange Attilio had detected their approach from afar. "He might have -given me a warning," he thought. His annoyance with the fugitive did not -last long; but he began to be angry with his captors, of which every -one, he noticed, carried a cudgel. -</p> - -<p> -"What authority have you to interfere with me?" he asked haughtily. The -wretch who was holding his right arm murmured judicially: "An Inglese, -without a doubt." A stout man in a wide-brimmed hat, who was standing in -front of him, grunted: "The authority of four against one," then -addressed his companions to the general effect that he didn't know what -the world was coming to if foreigners were allowed to mix themselves up -with conspirators. It looked as if they had been at a loss what to do -with their captive. One of them insinuated: "I don't know. Those -foreigners have plenty of money and are impatient of restraint. A poor -man may get a chance." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo thought that probably each of them was provided with a stiletto. -Nothing prevented them from stabbing him in several places, weighting -his body with some stones from the seashore, and throwing it into the -water. What an unlucky reputation to have! He remembered that he had no -money with him. The few coins he used to carry in his pocket were lying -on his mantelpiece in the bedroom at the inn. This would have made no -difference if those men had been bandits, since they would not be aware -of the emptiness of his pockets. "I could have probably bribed them to -let me go," he thought, after he had heard the same man add with a -little laugh, "I mean obliging poor men. Those English <i>signori</i> are -rich and harmless." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo regretted more than ever not being able to make them an offer. It -would have been probably successful, as they seemed to be in doubt what -to do next. He mentioned he was living at the Casa Graziani. "If one of -you will go with me there you shall be recompensed for your trouble." No -answer was made to that proposal except that one of the men coughed -slightly. Their chief in a hat with an enormous brim seemed lost in deep -thought, and his immobility in front of Cosmo appeared to the latter -amusingly mysterious and sinister. A sort of nervous impatience came -over Cosmo, an absurd longing to tear himself away and make a dash for -liberty, and then an absurd discouragement as though he were a criminal -with no hiding-place to make for. The man in the big hat jerked up his -head suddenly and disclosed the irritable state of his feelings at the -failure of getting hold of that <i>furfante.</i> "As to that Englishman," -he continued in his rasping voice not corresponding to his physical bulk, -"let him be taken to the guardroom. He will have to show his papers." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo was provoked to say: "Do you expect a gentleman to carry his -papers with him when he goes out for a walk?" -</p> - -<p> -He was disconcerted by an outburst of laughter on three sides of him. -The leader in the hat did not laugh; he only said bitterly; "We expect -papers from a man we find hiding." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, I have no papers on me," said Cosmo, and immediately in a sort of -mental illumination thought, "Except in my hat." Of course that object -reposing on the top of his head was a bundle of papers, dangerous -documents. Attilio was a conspirator. Obviously! The mysterious allusion -to something he was to find and hand over to Cantelucci became clear to -Cosmo. He felt very indignant with his mysterious acquaintance. "Of -course he couldn't foresee I was going to get into this predicament," he -thought, as if trying to find an excuse for him already. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Avanti</i>," commanded the man in front of him. -</p> - -<p> -The grip on his arm of the two others tightened, resistance was no use -though he felt sorely tempted again to engage in a struggle. If only he -could free himself for a moment, dash off into the darkness, and throw -that absurd packet away somewhere before they caught him again. It was a -sort of solution; but he discovered in himself an unsuspected and -unreasoning loyalty. "No! Somebody would find it and take it to the -police," he thought. "If we come near the quay I may manage to fling it -on the water." -</p> - -<p> -He said with lofty negligence: "You needn't hold my arms." -</p> - -<p> -This suggestion was met by a profound silence. Neither of the men -holding him relaxed his grasp. Another was treading close on his heels, -while the police-hound in the big hat marched a couple of paces in front -of him, importantly. -</p> - -<p> -Before long they approached the guardhouse close enough for Cosmo to see -the sentry at the foot of the steps, who challenged them militarily. The -shim in the hat advanced alone and made himself known in the light -streaming through the door. It was too late to attempt anything. As he -was impelled by his two captors inside the guardroom, which was lighted -by a smoky lamp and also full of tobacco smoke, Cosmo thought, "I am in -for it. What a horrible nuisance! I wonder whether they will search me?" -</p> - -<p> -At Cosmo's entrance with his escort several soldiers reclining on the -floor raised their heads. It was a small place which may have been used -as a store for sails or cordage. The furniture consisted of one long -bench, a rack of muskets, a table, and one chair. A sergeant sitting on -that chair rose and talked with the head <i>sbirro</i> for a time in a -familiar and interested manner about the incidents of the chase, before -he even looked at Cosmo. Cosmo could not hear the words. The sergeant -was a fine man with long black moustaches and a great scar on his cheek. -He nodded from time to time in an understanding manner to the man in the -hat, whom the light of the guardroom disclosed as the possessor of very -small eyes, a short thick beard, and a pear-shaped yellow physiognomy -which had a pained expression. At the suggestion of the <i>sbirri</i> (they -had let him go) Cosmo sat down on a bench running along the wall. Part -of it was occupied by a soldier stretched at full length with his head -on his knapsack and with his shako hung above him on the wall. He was -profoundly asleep. "Perhaps that's the fellow who took those shots at me," -thought Cosmo. Another of the <i>sbirri</i> approached Cosmo and with a -propitiatory smile handed him his cloak. Cosmo had forgotten all about -it. -</p> - -<p> -"I carried it behind the signore all the way," he murmured with an air -of secrecy; and Cosmo was moved to say: "You ought to have brought it to -me at Cantelucci's inn," in a significant tone. The man made a -deprecatory gesture and said in a low voice: "The signore may want it -to-night." -</p> - -<p> -He was young. His eyes met Cosmo's without flinching. -</p> - -<p> -"I see," whispered Cosmo. "What is going to be done with me?" The man -looked away indifferently and said: "I am new at this work; but there is -a post of royal gendarmerie on the other side of the harbour." -</p> - -<p> -He threw himself on the bench by Cosmo's side, stretched his legs out, -folded his arms across his breast, and yawned unconcernedly. -</p> - -<p> -"Can I trust him?" Cosmo asked himself. Nobody seemed to pay any -attention to him. The <i>sbirro</i> in the hat bustled out of the guardroom -in great haste; the other two remained on guard; the sergeant sitting -astride the chair folded his arms on the back of it and stared at the -night through the open door. The <i>sbirro</i> by Cosmo's side muttered, -looking up at the ceiling: "I think Barbone is gone to find a boatman." -From this Cosmo understood that he was going to be taken across the -harbour and given up to the gendarmes. He thought, "If they insist upon -searching me I would have to submit and in any case a hat is not a -hiding-place. I may just as well hand the packet over without a -struggle." A bright idea struck him. "If those fellows take me over -there in a boat to save themselves the trouble of walking round the harbour -I will simply contrive to drop my hat overboard—even if they do -hold my arms during the passage." He was now convinced that Attilio -belonged to some secret society. He certainly was no common fellow. He -wondered what had happened to him. Was he slinking and dodging about the -low parts of the town on his way to some refuge; or had he really found -the excitable man and the grumpy man still waiting under the tower with -a boat? Most unlikely after such an alarming commotion of yells and -shots. He feared that Attilio, unable to get away, could hardly avoid -being caught to-morrow, or at the furthest next day. He himself -obviously did not expect anything better; or else he would not have been -so anxious to get rid of those papers. Cosmo concluded that conspirators -were perfectly absurd with their passion for documents, which were -invariably found at a critical time and sent them all to the gallows. -</p> - -<p> -He noticed the eyes of the sergeant, a Croat, with pendent black -moustaches, fixed on his hat, and at once felt uneasy as if he had -belonged to a secret society himself. His hat was the latest thing in -men's round hats which he had bought in Paris. But, almost directly, the -sergeant's eyes wandered off to the doorway and resumed their stare. -Cosmo was relieved. He decided, however, to attempt no communication -with the young police fellow whose lounging attitude, abandoned and -drowsy, and almost touching elbows with him, seemed to Cosmo too -suggestive to be trustworthy. And indeed, he reflected, what could he do -for him? -</p> - -<p> -His excitement about this adventure was combined in a strange way with a -state of inward peace which he had not known for hours. He wondered at -his loyalty to the astute Attilio. He would have been justified in -regarding the transaction as a scurvy trick; whereas he found that he -could not help contemplating it as a matter of trust. He went on -exercising his wits upon the problem of those documents (he was sure -those were papers of some kind) which he had been asked to give to -Cantelucci (how surprised he would be), since apparently the innkeeper -was a conspirator too. Yet, he thought, it would be better to destroy -them than to let them fall into the hands of the Piedmontese justice, or -the Austrian military command. "I must contrive," he thought, "to get -rid of them in the boat. I can always shake my hat overboard -accidentally." But the packet would float and some boatman would be sure -to find it during the day. On the other hand, by the time daylight came -the handwriting would probably have become illegible. Or perhaps not? -Fire, not water, was what he needed. If there had been a fire in that -inexpressibly dirty guardroom he would have made use of it at once under -the very noses of those wild-looking Croats. But would that have been -the proper thing to do in such a hurry? -</p> - -<p> -He had not come to any conclusion before Barbone returned, accompanied -by a silver-haired, meek old fellow, with a nut-brown face, bare-footed -and bare-armed, and carrying a pair of sculls over his shoulder, whom -Barbone pushed in front of the sergeant. The latter took his short pipe -out of his mouth, spat on one side, looked at the old man with a fixed -savage stare, and finally nodded. At Cosmo he did not look at all, but -to Barbone he handed a key with the words, "Bring it back." The -<i>sbirri</i> closed round Cosmo and Barbone uttered a growl with a -gesture towards the door. Why Barbone should require a key to take him -out of doors Cosmo could not understand. Unless it were the key of -liberty. But it was not likely that the fierce Croat and the gloomy -Barbone should have indulged in symbolic actions. The mariner with the -sculls on his shoulder followed the group patiently to where, on the -very edge of the quay, the Austrian soldier with his musket shouldered -paced to and fro across the streak of reddish light from the garrison -door. He swung round and stood, very martial, in front of the group, but -at the sight of the key exhibited to him by Barbone moved out of the -way. The air was calm but chilly. Below the level of the quay there was -the clinking of metal and the rattling of small chains, and Cosmo then -discovered that the key belonged to a padlock securing the chain to -which quite a lot of small rowing boats were moored. The young policeman -said from behind into Cosmo's ear, "The signore is always forgetting his -cloak," and threw it lightly on Cosmo's shoulders. He explained also -that every night all the small boats in the port were collected and -secured like this on both sides of the port and the Austrians furnished -the sentry to look after them on this side. The object was that there -should be no boats moving after ten o'clock, except the galley of the -<i>dogana</i> and of course the boat of the English man-of-war. -</p> - -<p> -"Come and see me at noon at Cantelucci's inn," whispered Cosmo, to which -the other breathed out a "Certainly, Excellency," feelingly before going -up the steps. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo found himself presently sitting in a boat between two <i>sbirri.</i> -The ancient fellow shoved off and shipped his oars. From the quay, high -above, Barbone's voice shouted to him, "The gendarmes will take charge -of your boat for the rest of the night." The old boatman's only answer -was a deep sigh, and in a very few strokes the quay with the sentry -receded into the darkness. One of the <i>sbirri</i> remarked in a tone of -satisfaction, "Our service will be over after we have given up the -signore there." The other said, "I hope the signore will consider we -have been kept late on his account." Cosmo, who was contemplating with -immense distaste the prospect of being delivered up to the gendarmes, -emitted a mirthless laugh, and after a while said in a cold tone: "Why -waste your time in pulling to the other side of the harbour? Put me on -board the nearest vessel. I'll soon find my way to the quay from one -<i>tartane</i> to another, and your service would be over at once." -</p> - -<p> -The fellow on his left assumed an astonishing seriousness: "Most of -those <i>tartanes</i> have a dog on board. We could not expose an -illustrious stranger to get bitten by one of these ugly brutes." -</p> - -<p> -But the other had no mind for grave mockery. In a harsh and overbearing -tone he ordered the boatman to pull well into the middle of the harbour -away from the moored craft. -</p> - -<p> -It was like crossing a lake overshadowed by the hills with the -breakwaters prolonging the shore to seaward. The old man raised and -dipped his oars slowly, without a sound, and the long trails of -starlight trembled on the ripples on each side of the boat. When they -had progressed far enough to open the harbour entrance Cosmo detected -between the end of the jetties far away—he was glancing casually -about—a dark speck about the size of a man's head, which ought not to -have been there. The air was perfectly still and the stars thick on the -horizon. It struck him at once that it could be nothing than either the -English man-of-war's boat or the boat of the <i>dogana</i>, since no others -were allowed to move at night. His thoughts were, however, so busy with -speculating as to what he had better do that he paid no more attention -to that remarkable speck. He looked absently at the silver-haired -boatman pulling an easy stroke and asked himself: Was it or was it not -time to lose his hat overboard? How could he contrive to make it look -plausible in this absurd calm? Then he reproached himself for reasoning -as if those two low fellows (whose proximity had grown extremely irksome -to him) had wits of preternatural sharpness. If he were to snatch it and -fling it away they would probably conclude that he was trying to make -himself troublesome, or simply mad, or anything in the world rather than -guess that he had in his hat something which he wanted to destroy. He -undid quietly the clasp of his cloak and rested his hands on his knees. -His guardians did not think it necessary now to hold his arms. In fact -they did not seem to pay much attention to him. Cosmo asked himself for -a moment whether he would island up suddenly and jump into the water. Of -course he knew that fully clothed and in his boots they would very soon -get hold of him, but the object would have been attained. However, the -prospect of being towed behind a boat to the custom-house quay by the -collar of his coat and being led into the presence of the gendarmes -looking like a drowned rat was so disagreeable that he rejected that -plan. -</p> - -<p> -By that time the boat had reached little more than half way across the -harbour. The great body of the shipping was merged with the shore. The -nearest vessels were a polacca brig and xebec lying at anchor. Both were -shadowy, and the last, with her low spars, a mere low smudge on the dim -sheen of the water. From time to time the aged boatman emitted a moan. -The boat seemed hardly to move. Everything afloat was silent and dark. -The crews of the coasters were ashore or asleep; and if there were any -dogs on board any of them they too seemed plunged in the same slumber -that lay over all things of the earth, and by contrast with which the -stars of heaven looked intensely wakeful. In the midst of his -perplexities Cosmo enjoyed the feeling of peace that had come to him -directly his trouble had begun. -</p> - -<p> -"We will be all night getting across," growled suddenly the man on his -left. ". . . I don't know what Barbone was thinking of to get this -antiquity out of his bed." -</p> - -<p> -"I told him there was hardly any breath in my old body," declared the -boatman's tranquil voice. -</p> - -<p> -Apparently in order to speak he had to cease rowing, for he rested on -his oars while he went on in the grave-like silence. "But he raged like -a devil; and rather than let him wake up all the neighbours I came out. -I may just as well die in the boat as in bed." -</p> - -<p> -Both <i>sbirri</i> exclaimed indignantly against Barbone, but neither -offered to take the sculls. With a painful groan the old man began to pull -again. Cosmo asked: "What's that dark thing between the heads of the -jetties?" One of his captors, turning his head to look, said, "That must -be the galley. I wish she would come this way. We would ask her for a -tow." The other man remarked sarcastically, "No fear, they are all -snoozing in her except one perhaps to keep a lookout. It's an easy life. -. . . <i>Voga, vecchio, yoga.</i>" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo thought suddenly that if by any chance the man-of-war boat -happened to be pulling that way he would hail her without hesitation, -and, surely, the officer in charge would not leave him in the hands of -those villains without at least listening to his tale. Unluckily their -way across the harbour did not take them near the man-of-war. The light -at her mizzen peak seemed to Cosmo very far away; so that if it had not -burned against the dark background of the land it would have seemed more -distant than any star, and not half as brightly vigilant. He took his -eyes from it and let them rest idly on the water ahead. The <i>sbirro</i> -on his right hand emitted an immense yawn. This provided the other to -mutter curses on the tediousness of all this affair. Cosmo had been too -perplexed to feel bored. Just then as if in antagonism to those -offensive manifestations he felt very alert. Moreover, the moment when -something would have to be done was approaching, a tension of all his -senses accumulating in a sort of all-over impatience. While in that -state, staring into the night, he caught sight of the man-of-war's boat. -</p> - -<p> -But was it?—well, it was something dark on the water, and as there -was no other boat about . . . It was small—well, far off and -probably end on. . . . He had heard no sound of rowing . . . lying on her -oars . . . He could see nothing now . . . well, here goes, on the chance. -</p> - -<p> -Without stirring a limb he took a long breath and let out the shout of -"Boat ahoy" with all the force of his lungs. The volume of tone -astonished himself. It seemed to fill the whole of the harbour so -effectually that he felt he needn't shout again and he remained as still -as a statue. The effect on his neighbours was that both gave a violent -start, which set the boat rolling slightly, and in their bewilderment -they bent forward to peer into his face with immense eyes. After a time -one of them asked in an awestruck murmur, "What's the matter, signore?" -and seized his cloak. The other, Cosmo heard distinctly whisper to -himself, "That was a war cry," while he also grabbed the cloak. The -clasp being undone, it slipped off Cosmo's shoulders and then they clung -to his arms. It struck Cosmo as remarkable that the old boatman, had not -ceased his feeble rowing for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -The shout had done Cosmo good. It reestablished his self-respect somehow -and it sent the blood moving through his veins as if indeed it had been -a war cry. He had shaken their nerves. If they had not remained -perfectly motionless holding his arms there would have started a -scrimmage in that boat which would certainly have ended in the water. -But their grip was feeble. They did nothing, but, bending towards each -other in front of Cosmo till their heads almost touched, watched his -lips from which such an extraordinary shout had come. Cosmo stared -stonily ahead as if unconscious of their existence, and again he had -that strange illusion of a dark spot ahead of the boat. He thought, -"That's no illusion. What a fool I was. It must be a mooring buoy." A -couple of minutes elapsed before he thought again, "That old fellow will -be right into it, presently." -</p> - -<p> -He didn't consider it his business to utter a warning because the bump -he expected happened almost immediately. He had misjudged the distance. -Owing to the slow pace the impact was very slight, slighter even than -Cosmo expected against such a heavy body as a mooring buoy would be. It -was really more like a feeble hollow sound than a shock. Cosmo, who was -prepared for it, was really the one that felt it at once, and the -ancient boatman looked sharply over his shoulder. He uttered no sound -and did not even attempt to rise from the thwart. He simply, as it -seemed to Cosmo, let go the oars. The <i>sbirri</i> only became aware of -something having happened after the hollow bump was repeated, and Cosmo -had become aware that the object on the water was not a buoy but another -boat not much bigger than theirs. Then they both exclaimed and in their -surprise their grip relaxed. One of them cried in astonishment, "An -empty boat." It was indeed a surprising occurrence. With no particular -purpose in his mind Cosmo stood up while one of the <i>sbirri</i> stood up -either to catch hold of the boat or push it away, for the two boats were -alongside each other by that time. A strange voice in the dark said very -loud: "The man in the hat," and as if by enchantment three figures -appeared standing in a row. Cosmo had not even time to feel surprised. -The two boats started knocking about considerably, and he felt himself -seized by the collar and one arm and dragged away violently from between -the two <i>sbirri</i> by the power of irresistible arms which as suddenly -let him go as if he were an inanimate object, and he fell heavily in the -bottom of the second boat almost before his legs were altogether clear -of the other. During this violent translation his hat fell off his head -without any scheming on his part. -</p> - -<p> -He was not exactly frightened but he was excusably flustered. One is not -kidnapped like this without any preliminaries every day. He was -painfully aware of being in the way of his new captors. He was kicked in -the ribs and his legs were trodden upon. He heard blows being struck -against hard substances which he knew were human skulls because of the -abortive yells ending in groans. There was a determination and ferocity -in this attack combined with the least possible amount of noise. All he -could hear were the heavy blows and the hard breathing of the -assailants. Then came a sort of helpless splash. "Somebody will get -drowned," he thought. -</p> - -<p> -He made haste to pull himself forward from under the feet of the -combatants. Luckily for his ribs they were bare, which also added to the -quietness of that astonishing development. Once in the bows he sat up, -and by that time everything was over. Three shadowy forms were standing -in! a row in the boat, motionless, like labourers who had accomplished a -notable task. The boat out of which he had been dragged was floating -within a yard or two, apparently empty. The whole affair, which could -not have lasted more than a minute, seemed to Cosmo to have been -absolutely instantaneous. Not a sound came from the shipping along the -quays, not even from the brig and the xebec which were the nearest. A -sense of final stillness such as follows, for instance, the explosion of -a mine and resembles the annihilation of all one's perceptive faculties -took possession of Cosmo for a moment. Presently he heard a very earnest -but low voice cautioning the silent world: "If you dare make a noise I -will come back and kill you." It was perfectly impersonal; it had no -direction, no particular destination. Cosmo, who heard the words -distinctly, could connect no image of a human being with them. He was -roused at last when, dropping his hand on the gunwale, he felt human -fingers under it. He snatched his hand away as if burnt and only then -looked over. The white hair of the old boatman seemed to rest on the -water right against the boat's side. He was holding on silently, even in -this position displaying the meek patience of his venerable age—and -Cosmo contemplated him in silence. A voice, not at all impersonal this -time, said from the stem sheets, "Get out your oars." -</p> - -<p> -"There is a man in the water here," said Cosmo, wondering at his own -voice being heard in those fantastic conditions. It produced, however, -the desired effect, and almost as soon as he had spoken Cosmo had to -help a bearded sailor, who was a complete stranger to him, to haul the -old man inside the boat. He was no great weight to get over the gunwale, -but they had to handle him as if he had been drowned. He never attempted -to help himself. The other men in the boat took an interest in the -proceedings. -</p> - -<p> -"Is he dead?" came a subdued inquiry from aft. -</p> - -<p> -"He is very old and feeble," explained Cosmo in an undertone. Somebody -swore long but softly, ending with the remark: "Here's a complication." -</p> - -<p> -"That scoundrel Barbone dragged out a dying man," began Cosmo -impulsively. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Va bene, va bene</i> . . . Bundle him in and come aft, signore." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo, obeying this injunction, found himself sitting in the stem sheets -by the side of a man whose first act was to put his hand lightly upon -his shoulder in a way that conveyed a sort of gentle exultation. The -discovery that the man was Attilio was too startling for comment at the -first moment. The next it seemed the most natural thing in the world. -</p> - -<p> -"It seems as if nothing could keep us apart," said that extraordinary -man in a low voice. He took his hand off Cosmo's shoulder and directed -the two rowers—who, Cosmo surmised, were the whisperers of the -tower—to pull under the bows of the brig. "We must hide from those -custom-house fellows," he said. "I fancy the galley is coming along." -</p> - -<p> -No other word was uttered till one of the men got hold of the brig's -cable and the boat came to a rest with her side against the stem of that -vessel, when Cosmo, who now could himself hear the faint noise of -rowing, asked Attilio in a whisper: "Are they after you?" -</p> - -<p> -"If they are after anything," answered the other coolly, "they are after -a very fine voice. What made you give that shout?" -</p> - -<p> -"I had to behave like a frightened mouse before those <i>sbirri</i>, on -account of those papers you left with me, and I felt that I must assert -myself." Cosmo gave this psychological explanation grimly. He changed -his tone to add that, fancying he had seen the shape of the English -man-of-war's boat, the temptation to hail her had been irresistible. -</p> - -<p> -"Possibly that's what started them. They know nothing of us. Luck was on -our side. We slipped in unseen." The sound of rowing meantime had grown -loud enough to take away from them all desire for further conversation, -for the noise of heavy oars working in their rowlocks has a purposeful -relentless character on a still night, and the big twelve-oared galley, -pulled with a short quick stroke, seemed to hold an unerring way in its -hollow thundering progress. For those in the boat concealed under the -bows of the brig the strain of having to listen without being able to -see was growing intolerable. Cosmo asked himself anxiously whether he -was going to be captured once more before this night of surprises was -out, but at the last moment the galley swerved and passed under the stem -of the polacca as if bent on taking merely a sweep round the harbour. -Everybody in the boat drew a long breath. But almost immediately -afterwards the sound of rowing stopped short and everyone in the boat -seemed turned again into stone. -</p> - -<p> -At last Attilio breathed into Cosmo's ear, "<i>Per Dio!</i> They have -found the other boat." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo was almost ashamed at the swift eagerness of his fearfully -whispered inquiry: -</p> - -<p> -"Are the men in her dead?" -</p> - -<p> -"All I know is that if either of them is able to talk we are lost," -Attilio whispered back. -</p> - -<p> -"These <i>sbirri</i> were going to deliver me to the gendarmes," Cosmo -began under his breath, when all at once the noise of the oars burst -again on their ears abruptly; but soon all apprehension was at an end, -because it became clear that the sound was receding towards the east -side of the harbour. In fact the custom-house people who had started to -row round because of a vague impression that there had been some -shouting in the harbour had to their immense surprise come upon a boat -which at first seemed empty but which, they soon discovered, contained -two human forms huddled up on the bottom boards, apparently dead, but at -any rate insensible if they were still breathing. Attilio's surmise that -as the quickest way of dealing with this mystery the custom-house -officer had decided to tow the boat at once to the police station on the -east side was perfectly right; and also his conviction that now or never -was his chance to slip out of that harbour where he and his companions -felt themselves in a trap the door of which might snap to at any time. -At the best it was a desperate situation, he felt. Cosmo felt it, too, -if in a more detached way—like a rather unwilling spectator. Yet -his anxiety for the safety of his companions was as great as though he -had known them all his life. Though he had in a way lost sight of his -personal connection he could not help forming his own view, which he -poured into Attilio's ear while the two rowers put all their strength -into their work. -</p> - -<p> -Tensely rigid at the tiller, Attilio had listened, keeping his eyes -fixed on the gap of dark gleaming water between the black heads of the -two breakwaters. -</p> - -<p> -"The signore is right," he assented. "We could not hope to escape from -that galley once she caught sight of us. Our only chance is to slip out -of the port before she gets back to her station outside the jetties. -This affair will be a great puzzle to them. They will lose some time -talking it over with the gendarmes. Unless one or another of those -<i>sbirri</i> comes to himself." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. Those <i>sbirri</i> . . ." murmured Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"What would you have? We did our best with the boat-stretchers, I can -assure you." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo had no doubt of that. The sound of crashing blows rained on those -wretches' heads had been sickening, but the memory comforted him now. So -did the return of the profound stillness after the noise of the galley's -oars had died out in the distance. Cosmo took heart till it came upon -him suddenly that there never had been a starry sky that gave so much -light, no night so amazingly clear, no harbour of such an enormous -extent. He felt he must not lose a minute. He jumped up and began to -tear off his coat madly. Attilio exclaimed in dismay, "Stay! Don't!" It -looked as though his Englishman had made up his mind to swim for it. But -Cosmo with a muttered, "I must lend a hand," stepped lightly forward -past the rowers, and began to feel under thwarts for a spare oar. Before -he found it his hand came in contact with a naked foot. This recalled to -him the existence of the ancient boatman. The poor old fellow who had -taken no part in the fray had fallen overboard from mere weakness and -had had a long soaking in chilly water. He lay curled up in the bows, -shivering violently like a dog. For the moment Cosmo was simply vexed at -this additional dead weight in the boat. He could think of nothing but -of the custom-house galley. He imagined her long, slim, cleaving the -glassy water, as if endowed with life, while the clumsy tub in which he -sat felt to him a dead thing which had to be tugged along by main force -every inch of the way. He set his teeth hard and pulled doggedly as if -rowing in a losing race, without turning his head once. Suddenly he -became aware of the end of the old Mole gliding past the boat, and that -Attilio instead of holding on this way had taken a sweep and was -following the outer side of the breakwater towards the shore. Presently, -at his word, the oars were taken in, and the boat floated arrested in -shallow water amongst the boulders strewn along the base of the Mole. -The men panted after their exertions. Not a breath of wind stirred the -chilly air. Cosmo returned aft and sat down by Attilio after putting on -his coat. -</p> - -<p> -It seemed as though Attilio, while steering with one hand, had managed -with the other to go through the pockets of Cosmo's coat, for his first -words murmured in an anxious tone were "Signore, where are those -papers?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo had forgotten all about them. The shock was severe. "The papers," -he exclaimed faintly. "In my hat." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I put them there. You had it on your head in the boat. I -recognized you by it." -</p> - -<p> -"Of course I had it on. Where is it?" -</p> - -<p> -"God knows," said Attilio bitterly. "I was asking you for the papers." -</p> - -<p> -"I only discovered that the packet was in my hat after I put it on," -protested Cosmo. "Four were standing over me already." -</p> - -<p> -"Is it possible?" exclaimed Attilio, very low. -</p> - -<p> -"Afterwards I was watched all the time." -</p> - -<p> -While they were exchanging those words in the extremity of their -consternation, the man nearest to them went down suddenly on his knees -and began to grope under the thwarts industriously. Having heard the -word "hat" he had remembered that while battling with the <i>sbirri</i> he -had trodden on some round object which had given way under his foot. He -assured the signore that it was a thing that could not be helped while -he tendered to him apologetically the rim with one hand and the crown -with the other. It was crushed flat like an empty bag, but it was seized -with avidity and presently Cosmo's feelings were relieved by the -discovery that it still contained the parcel of papers. Attilio took -possession of it with a low nervous laugh. It was an emotional sound -which, coming from that man, gave Cosmo food for wonder during the few -moments the silence lasted before Attilio announced in a whisper, "Here -she is." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo, looking seaward, saw on the black and gleaming water, polished -like a mirror for the stars, an opaque hummock resembling the head of a -rock; and he thought that the race had been won by a very narrow margin. -The galley in fact had reached the heads of the jetties a very few -minutes only after the boat. On getting back to his station the officer -in the galley pulled about fifty yards clear of the end of the old Mole -and ordered his men to lay oars in. He had left the solution of the -mystery to the police. It was not his concern; and as he knew nothing of -the existence of an outside boat, it never occurred to him to -investigate along the coast. Attilio's boat lurking close inshore was -invisible from seaward. The distance between the two was great enough to -cause the considerable clatter which is made when several oars are laid -in together at the word of command to reach Cosmo only as a very faint, -almost mysterious, sound. It was the last he was to hear for a very long -time. He surrendered to the soft and invincible stillness of air and sea -and stars enveloping the active desires and the secret fears of men who -have the sombre earth for their stage. At every momentary pause in his -long and fantastic adventure it returned with its splendid charm and -glorious serenity, resembling the power of a great and unfathomable love -whose tenderness like a sacred spell lays to rest all the vividities and -all the violences of passionate desire. -</p> - -<p> -Dreamily Cosmo had lost control of the trend of his thoughts, as one -does on the verge of sleep. He regained it with a slight start and -looked up at the round tower looming up, bulky, at the water's edge. He -was back again, having completed the cycle of his adventures and not -knowing what would happen next. Everybody was silent. The two men at the -thwarts had folded their arms and had let their chins sink on their -breasts; while Attilio, sitting in the stern sheets, held his head up in -an immobility to which his open eyes lent an air of extreme vigilance. -The waste of waters seemed to extend from the shores of Italy to the -very confines of the universe, with nothing on it but the black spot of -the galley which moved no more than the head of a rock. "We can't stay -here till daylight," thought Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -That same thought was in Attilio's mind. The race between his boat and -the galley had been very close. It was very probable that had it not -been for Cosmo volunteering to pull the third oar it would have resulted -in a dead heat, which of course would have meant capture. As it was, -Attilio had just escaped being seen by pulling short round the jetty -instead of holding on into the open sea. It was a risky thing to do, but -then, since he had jeopardized the success of his escape through his -desire to get hold of Cosmo again, there was nothing before him but a -choice of risks. -</p> - -<p> -Attilio was a native of a tiny white townlet on the eastern shore of the -Gulf of Genoa. His people were all small cultivators and fishermen. -Their name was Pieschi, from whose blood came the well-known conspirator -against the power of the Dorias and in the days of the Republic. Of this -fact Attilio had heard only lately (Cantelucci had told him) with a -certain satisfaction. In his early youth, spent on the coast of the -South American continent, he had heard much talk of a subversive kind -and had become familiar with the idea of revolt looked upon as an -assertion of manly dignity and the spiritual aim of life. He had come -back to his country about six months before and, beholding the aged -faces of some of his people in the unchanged surroundings, it seemed to -him that it was his own life that had been very long, though he was only -about thirty. Being a relation of Cantelucci he found himself very soon -in touch with the humbler members of secret societies, survivals of the -revolutionary epoch, stirred up by the downfall of the Empire and -inspired by grandiose ideas, by the hatred of the Austrian invaders -bringing back with them the old tyrannical superstitions of religion and -the oppression of privileged classes. Like the polite innkeeper he -believed in the absolute equality of all men. He respected all religions -but despised the priests who preached submission and perceived nothing -extravagant in the formation of an Italian empire (of which he had the -first hint from the irritable old cobbler, the uncle of Cecchina) since -there was a great man—a great Emperor—to put at its head, very -close at hand. The great thing was to keep him safe from the attempts of -all these kings and princes now engaged in plotting against his life in -Vienna—till the hour of action came. No small task, for the world -outside the ranks of the people was full of his enemies. -</p> - -<p> -Attilio, still and silent by Cosmo's side, was not reproaching himself -for having gone in the evening to say good-bye to Cecchina. The girl -herself had been surprised to see him, for they had said good-bye -already in the afternoon. But this love affair was not quite two months -old and he could not have been satisfied with a hurried wordless -good-bye, snatched behind a half-closed door, with several people -drinking at the long table in Cantelucci's kitchen on one side and a -crabbed old woman rummaging noisily in a storeroom at the end of the -dark passage. Cecchina had, of course, reproached him for coming, but -not very much. Neither of them dreamed of there being any danger in it. -Then, straight out of her arms, as it were, he had stepped into that -ambush! His presence of mind and his agility proved too much for the -party of the stupid Barbone. It was only after he had given them the -slip in the maze of small garden plots at the back of the houses that he -had time, while lying behind a low wall, to think over this unexpected -trouble. He knew that the fellows who were after him belonged to the -police, because they had called on the soldiers for assistance; but he -concluded that he owed this surprise to some jealous admirer of -Cecchina. It was easy enough for any base scoundrel to set the police -after a man in these troubled times. It may even have been one of -Cantelucci's affiliated friends. His suspicions rested on the small -employees who took their meals at the inn, and especially on a lanky -scribe with a pointed nose like a rat who had the habit of going in and -out through the courier's room, only, Attilio believed, in order to make -eyes at Cecchina. That the ambush had been laid on the evening fixed for -his departure was a mere coincidence. -</p> - -<p> -The real danger of the position was in having the papers on him, but, -anxious that his friends at the tower should not give him up, he came -out of his hiding-place too soon. The soldiers had gone away, but the -<i>sbirri</i> were still half-heartedly poking about in dark corners and -caught sight of him. Another rush saved him for the moment. The position -he felt was growing desperate. He dared not throw away the papers. The -discovery of Cosmo sitting amongst the stones was an event so -extraordinary in itself that it revolutionized his rational view of life -as a whole in the way a miracle might have done. He felt suddenly an -awed and confiding love for that marvellous person fate had thrown in -his way. The pursuit was close. There was no time to explain. There was -no need. -</p> - -<p> -But directly he found himself safe in the boat Attilio began to regret -having parted with the papers. It was not much use proceeding on his -mission without these documents entrusted to him by Cantelucci, acting -on behalf of superior powers. -</p> - -<p> -He asked himself what could have happened to Cosmo? Did the fellows -arrest him on suspicion? That was not very likely, and at worst it would -not mean more than a short detention. They would not dare to search him, -surely. But even if they found the packet Cosmo would declare it his own -property and object to its being opened. He had a complete confidence in -Cosmo's loyalty and, what was more, in that young Englishman's power to -have his own way. He had the manner for that and the face for that. The -face and bearing of a man with whom it was lucky to be associated in -anything. -</p> - -<p> -The galley being just then at the other end of her beat, Attilio saw his -way clear to slip into the harbour. The state of perfect quietness over -the whole extent of the harbour encouraged his native audacity. He began -by pulling to the east side where the gendarmerie office was near the -quay. Everything was quiet there. He made his men lay their oars amongst -the shadows of the anchored shipping and waited. Sleep, breathless -sleep, reigned on shore and afloat. Attilio began to think that Cosmo -could not have been discovered. If so, then he must be nearing -Cantelucci's inn by this time. He resolved then to board one of the -empty coasters moored to the quay, wait for the morning there, and then -go himself to the inn, where he could remain concealed till another -departure could be arranged. He told his men to pull gently to the -darkest part of the quay. And then he heard Cosmo's mighty shout. He was -nearly as confounded by it as the <i>sbirri</i> in the boat. That voice -bursting out on the profound stillness seemed loud enough to wake up -every sleeper in the town, to bring the stones rolling down the -hillsides. And almost at once he thought, "What luck!" The luck of the -Englishman's amazing impudence; for what other man would have thought of -doing that thing? He told his rowers to lay their oars in quietly and -get hold of the boat-stretchers. The extremely, feeble pulling of the -old boatman gave the time for these preparations. He whispered his -instructions: "We've got to get a foreign signore out of that boat. The -others in her will be <i>sbirri.</i> Hit them hard." Just before the boats -came into contact he recognized Cosmo's form standing up. It was then -that he pronounced the words, "the man in the hat," which were heard by -Cosmo. Attilio ascribed it all to luck that attended those who had -anything to do with that Englishman. Even the very escape unseen from -the harbour he ascribed, not to Cosmo's extra oar, but to Cosmo's -peculiar personality. -</p> - -<p> -Without departing from his immobility he broke silence by a "signore," -pronounced in a distinct but restrained voice. Cosmo was glad to learn -the story before the moment came for them to part. But the theory of -luck which Attilio tacked on to the facts did not seem to him -convincing. He remarked that if Attilio had not come for him at all he -would have been far on the way in his mysterious affairs, whereas now he -was only in another trap. -</p> - -<p> -For all answer the other murmured, "<i>Si</i>, but I wonder if it would -have been the same. Signore, isn't it strange that we should have been -drawn together from the first moment you put foot in Genoa?" -</p> - -<p> -"It is," said Cosmo, with an emphasis that encouraged the other to -continue, but with a less assured voice. -</p> - -<p> -"Some people of old believed that stars have something to do with -meetings and partings by their disposition and that some if not all men -have each a star allotted to them." -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps," said Cosmo in the same subdued voice. "But I believe there is -a man greater than you or I who believes he has a star of his own." -</p> - -<p> -"Napoleon, perhaps." -</p> - -<p> -"So I have heard," said Cosmo, and thought, "Here he is, whenever two -men meet he is a third, one can't get rid of him." -</p> - -<p> -"I wonder where it is," said Attilio, as if to himself, looking up at -the sky. "Or yours, or mine," he added in a still lower tone. "They must -be pretty close together." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo humoured the superstitious strain absently, for he felt a secret -sympathy for that man. "Yes, it looks as if yours and mine had been -fated to draw together." -</p> - -<p> -"No, I mean all three together." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you? Then you must know more than I do. Though indeed as a matter of -fact he is not very far from us where we sit. But don't you think, my -friend, that there are men and women, too, whose stars mark them for -loneliness no man can approach?" -</p> - -<p> -"You mean because they are great." -</p> - -<p> -"Because they are incomparable," said Cosmo after a short pause, in -which Attilio seemed to ponder. -</p> - -<p> -"I like that what you said," Attilio was heard at last. "Their stars may -be lonely. Look how still they are. But men are more like ships that -come suddenly upon each other without a warning. And yet they, too, are -guided by the stars. I can't get over the wonder of our meeting -to-night." -</p> - -<p> -"If you hadn't been so long in saying good-bye we wouldn't have met," -said Cosmo, looking at the two men dozing on the thwarts, the whisperers -of the tower. They were not at all like what he had imagined them to be. -</p> - -<p> -Attilio gazed at his Englishman for a time closely. He seemed to see a -smile on Cosmo's lips. Wonder at his omniscience prevented him from -making a reply. He preferred not to ask, and yet he was incapable of -forming a guess, for there are certain kinds of obviousness that escape -speculation. -</p> - -<p> -"You may be right," he said. "It's the first time in my life that I -found it hard to say good-bye. I begin to believe," he went on -murmuring, "that there are people it would be better for one not to -know. There are women . . ." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Cosmo, very low and as if unconscious of what he was saying. -"I have seen your faces very close together." -</p> - -<p> -The other made a slight movement away from Cosmo and then bent towards -him. "You have seen," he said slowly and stopped short. He was thinking -of something that had happened only two hours before. "Oh well," he said -with composure, "you know everything, you see everything that happens. -Do you know what will happen to us two?" -</p> - -<p> -"It's very likely that when we part we will never see each other again," -Cosmo said, resting his elbows on his knees and taking his head between -his hands. He did not look like a man preparing to go ashore. -</p> - -<p> -There were no material difficulties absolutely to prevent him from -landing. The foot of the tower with the narrow strip of ground which a -boat could approach was not sixty yards off, and all this was in the -shadow of its own reflection, the high side of the breakwater, the bulk -of the tower, making the glassy water dark in that corner of the shore. -And besides, the water in which the boat floated was so shallow that -Cosmo could have got to land by wading from where the boat lay without -wetting himself much above the knees, should Attilio refuse to come out -from under the shelter of the rock. But probably Attilio would not have -objected. The difficulty was not there. -</p> - -<p> -Attilio must have been thinking on the same subject, as became evident -when he asked Cosmo whether those <i>sbirri</i> knew where he lived. After -some reflection Cosmo said that he was quite certain they knew nothing -about it. The <i>sbirri</i> had put no questions to him. They had not, he -said, displayed any particular curiosity about what he was. "But why do -you ask?" -</p> - -<p> -"Don't you know?" said Attilio, with only half-affected surprise. "There -might have been a dozen of them waiting for you in the neighbourhood on -the chance of your returning, and you have no other place to go to." -</p> - -<p> -"No, I haven't," said Cosmo in a tone as though he regretted that -circumstance. He thought, however, that there might have been some of -them out between the port and the town, and he knew only one way and -that not very well, he added. -</p> - -<p> -As a matter of fact that danger was altogether imaginary, because -Barbone, who certainly was in the pay of the police for work of that -sort, was not imaginative enough to do things without orders, and after -sending his prisoner off left the rest of the gendarmes and went home to -bed, while his young acolyte went about his own affairs. The other two -<i>sbirri</i> were being medically attended to, one of them especially -being very nearly half killed by an unlucky blow on the temple. All the -other <i>sbirro</i> could say in a feeble voice was that there were four -in the boat, that they were attacked by an inexplicable murderous gang, -and that he imagined that the other two, the prisoner and the boatman, -were now dead and very likely at the bottom of the harbour. The brigadier -of the gendarmerie could not get any more out of him, and, knowing -absolutely nothing of the affair, thought it would be time to make his -report to the superior authorities in the morning. All he did was to go -round to the places where the boats were chained, which were under his -particular charge, and count the boats. Not one was wanting. His -responsibility was not engaged. -</p> - -<p> -Thus there was nothing between Cosmo and Cantelucci's inn except his own -distaste. There was a strange tameness in that proceeding, a lack of -finality, something almost degrading. He imagined himself slinking like -a criminal at the back of the beastly guardhouse, starting at shadows, -creeping under the colonnade, getting lost in those dreadful deep lanes -between palaces, with the constant dread of having suddenly the paws of -those vile fellows laid on him and being dragged to some police post -with an absurd tale on his lips and without a hat on his head and what -for? Simply to get back to that abominable bedroom. However, he would -have to go through it. -</p> - -<p> -"Pity you don't know the town," Attilio's cautious voice was heard -again, "or else I could tell you of a place where you could spend the -remainder of the night and send word to your servant to-morrow. But you -could not find it by yourself. And that's a pity. I assure Your -Excellency that she is a real good woman. To have a secret place is not -such a bad thing. One never knows what one may need, and she is a -creature to be trusted. She has an Italian heart and she is a -<i>giardiniera</i> too. What more could I tell you?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo thought to himself vaguely that the girl he had seen in -Cantelucci's kitchen did not look like a woman gardener, though of -course if Attilio had a love affair it would be naturally amongst people -of that sort. But it occurred to him that perhaps it was some other -woman Attilio was talking about. He made no movement. Attilio's murmurs -took on a tone of resignation. "Your luck, signore, will depart with -you, and perhaps ours will follow after." Cosmo protested against that -unreasonable assumption, which was of course an absurdity but -nevertheless touched him in one of those sensitive spots which are like -a <i>défaut d'armure</i> in the battle-harness of various conceits which -one wears against one's kind. He considered luck less in a sudden -overwhelming conviction of it, in the manner of a man who had crossed -the path of a radiating influence, or who had awakened a sleeping and -destructive power which would now pursue him to the end of his life. He -was young, farouche, mistrustful and austere, not like a stoic, but in -the more human way like a man who has been born fastidious. In a sense -altogether unworldly. Attilio emitted an audible sigh. -</p> - -<p> -"You won't call it your luck," he pursued. "Well, let us leave it -without a name. It is something in you. Your carelessness in following -your fantasy, signore, as when you forced your presence on me only two -days ago," he insisted, as if carelessness and fantasy were the -compelling instruments of success. His voice was at its lowest as he -added: "Your genius makes you true to your will." -</p> - -<p> -No human being could have been insensible to such words uttered -unexpectedly in a tone of secret earnestness. But Cosmo's inward -response was a feeling of profound despondency. He was crushed by their -appalling unfitness. For the last twenty-four hours he had been asking -himself whether he had a will of his own, and it had seemed to him that -he had lost the notion of the real nature of courage. At that very -moment while listening to the mysteriously low pitch of Attilio's voice -the thought flashed through his mind that there was something within him -that made of him a predestined victim of remorse. -</p> - -<p> -"You can't possibly know anything about me, Attilio," he said, "and -whatever you like to imagine about me, you will have to put me on shore -presently. I can't stay here till the morning, and neither can you," he -added. "What are you thinking of doing? What can you do?" -</p> - -<p> -"Is it possible that it is of any interest to the signore? Only the -other evening I could not induce you to leave me to myself, and now you -are impatient to leave me to my fate. What can I do? I can always take a -desperate chance," he paused, and added through his clenched teeth, "and -when I think what little I need to make it almost safe . . ." The -piously uttered exclamation, "<i>Ah, Dio!</i>" was accompanied by a shake -of a clenched fist apparently addressed to the universe, but made as it -were discreetly, in keeping with the low and forcible tones. -</p> - -<p> -"And what is that?" asked Cosmo, raising his head. -</p> - -<p> -"Two pairs of stout arms, nothing more. With four oars and this boat and -using a little judgment in getting away I would defy that fellow there." -He jerked his head towards the galley which in this tideless sea had not -shifted her position a yard. "Yes," he went on, "I could even hope to -remain unseen on account of a quick dash." -</p> - -<p> -And he explained to Cosmo further that in an hour or so a little nearer -the break of day, when men get heavy and sleepy, the watchfulness of -those custom-house people would be relaxed and give him a better chance. -But if he was seen then he could still hope to out-row them, though he -would have preferred it the other way because with a boat making for the -open sea they would very soon guess that there must be some vessel -waiting for her, and by telling the tale on shore, that government xebec -lying in the harbour would soon be out in chase. She was fast, and in -twenty-four hours she would soon manage to overhaul all the craft she -would sight between this and the place he was going to. -</p> - -<p> -"And where is that?" asked Cosmo, letting his head rest on his hands -again. -</p> - -<p> -"In the direction of Livorno," said the other, and checked himself. "But -perhaps I had better not tell you, for should you happen to be -interrogated by all those magistrates, or perhaps by the Austrians, you -would of course want to speak the truth as becomes a gentleman—a -<i>nobilissimo signore</i>—unless you manage to forget what I have -already told you or perchance elect to come with us." -</p> - -<p> -"Come with you," repeated Cosmo, before something peculiar in the tone -made him sit up and face Attilio. "I believe you are capable of carrying -me off." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Dio ne voglio</i>," was Attilio's answer, "God forbid. The noise you -would make would bring no end of trouble. But for that perhaps it would -have been better for me," he added reflectively. "Whereas I have made up -my mind that there should be nothing but good from our association. Yet, -signore, you very nearly went away with us without any question at all, -for our head pointed to seaward and you could have had no idea that I -was coming in here. Confess, signore, you didn't think of return then. I -had only to hold the tiller straight another five minutes and I would -have had you in my power." -</p> - -<p> -"You were afraid of the <i>dogana</i> galley, my friend," said Cosmo as if -arguing a point. -</p> - -<p> -"Signore, this minute," said Attilio with the utmost seriousness. "Wake -up there," he said in a raised undertone to his two men. "Take an oar, -Pietro, and pull the boat to the foot of the tower." -</p> - -<p> -"There is also that old boatman," said Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"Hold," said Attilio. "Him I will not land. They will be at his place in -the morning, and then he tells his tale . . . unless he is dead. See -forward there." -</p> - -<p> -A very subdued murmur arose in the bows and Attilio muttered, "Pietro -would not talk to a dead man." -</p> - -<p> -"He is extremely feeble," said Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -It appeared on Attilio's enquiry that this encumbrance as he called him -was just strong enough to be helped over the thwarts. Presently, -sustained under the elbows, he joined Cosmo in the stem sheets, where -they made him sit between them. He let his big hands lie in his lap. -From time to time he shivered patiently. -</p> - -<p> -"That wretch Barbone knows no pity," observed Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose he was the nearest he could get. What tyranny! The helpless -are at the mercy of those fellows. He saved himself the trouble of going -three doors farther." -</p> - -<p> -They both looked at the ancient frame that age had not shrivelled. -</p> - -<p> -"A fine man once," said Attilio in a low voice. "Can you hear me, -<i>vecchio?</i>" -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Si</i>, and see you too, but I don't know your voice," was the answer -in a voice stronger than either of them expected, but betraying no sort of -interest. -</p> - -<p> -"They will certainly throw him into prison." And to Cosmo's indignant -exclamation Attilio pointed out that the old man would be the only -person they would be able to get hold of and he would have to pay for -all the rest. -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo expressed the opinion that he would not stay there long. -</p> - -<p> -"Better for him to die under the open sky than in prison," murmured -Attilio in a gloomy voice. "Listen, old man, could you keep the boat -straight at a star if I were to point you one?" -</p> - -<p> -"I was at home in a boat before I could speak plainly," was the answer, -while the boatman raised his arm and let it rest on the tiller as if to -prove that he had strength enough for that at least. -</p> - -<p> -"I have my boat's crew, signore. Let him do something for all Italy if -it is with his last breath, that old Genoese. And now if you were only -to take that bow oar you have been using so well only a few moments ago, -I will pull stroke and we will make this boat fly." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo felt the subdued vibration of this appeal without having paid any -attention to the words. They required no answer. Attilio pressed him as -though he had been arguing against objections. Surely he was no friend -of tyranny or of Austrian oppressors and he wouldn't refuse to serve a -man whom some hidden power had thrown in his way. He, Attilio, had not -sought him. He would have been content never to have seen him. He surely -had nothing that could call him back on shore this very night, since he -had not been more than three days in Genoa. No time for him to have -affairs. The words poured out of his lips into Cosmo's ear while the -white-headed boatman sat still above the torrent of whispered speech, -appearing to listen like a venerable judge. What could stand in the way -of him lending his luck and the strength of his arm? Surely it couldn't -be love, since he was travelling alone. -</p> - -<p> -"Enough," said Cosmo, as if the word had been extorted from him by pain, -but Attilio felt that his cause had been gained, though he hastened to -apologize for the impropriety of the argument, and assure the milord -Inglese that nothing would be easier than to put him ashore in the -course of the next day. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you think. Excellency, there is my own native village not very -far from Genoa on the Riviera di Ponente, and you will be amongst -friends to carry out such orders as you may give, or pass you from one -to another back to Genoa as fast as mules can climb or horses trot. And -it would be the same from any point in Italy. They would get you into -Genoa in disguise, or without disguise, and into the very home of -Cantelucci, so that you could appear there without a soul knowing how -you entered or how you came back." -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo, feeling a sudden relief, wondered that he should have found it in -the mere resolution to go off secretly with only the clothes he stood up -in, absolutely without money or anything of value on him, not even a -watch, and without a hat, at the mere bidding of a man bound on some -secret work, God knows where and for what object, and who had -volunteered to him no statement except that he had cousins in every spot -in Italy and a love affair with an <i>ortolana.</i> The enormous absurdity -of it made him impatient to be doing, and upon his expressed desire to -make a start Attilio, with the words, "You command here, signore," told -his men it was time to be moving. -</p> - -<p> -In less than half an hour the boat, with all her crew crouching at the -bottom and using the oars for poling in the shallow water along the -coast with infinite precaution to avoid knocks and bangs as though the -boat, the oars, and everything in her were made of glass, had been moved -far enough from the tower to have her nose put to the open sea. After -the first few strokes Cosmo felt himself draw back again to the receding -shore. But it was too late. He seemed to feel profoundly that he was -not—perhaps no man was—a free agent. He felt a sort of fear, a -faltering of all his limbs, as he swung back to his oar. Then his eyes -caught the galley, indeed everybody's eyes in the boat were turned that -way except the eyes of the ancient steersman, the white-headed figure in -an unexpectedly erect attitude who, with hardly any breath left in his -body and a mere helpless victim of other men's will, had a strange -appearance of the man in command. -</p> - -<p> -In less than ten minutes the galley became invisible, and even the long -shadows of the jetties had sunk to the level of the sea. There was a -moment when one of the men observed without excitement, "She's after -us," but this remark provoked no answer and turned out to be mistaken, -and for an hour longer Attilio, pulling stroke, watched the faint -phosphorescent wake, the evanescent fire under the black smoothness of -the sea, elusive like the tail of a comet amongst the dim reflections of -the stars. Its straightness was the only proof of the silent helmsman -with his arm resting along the tiller being still alive. Then he began -to look about him, and presently, laying in his oar, relieved the old -man at the tiller. He had to take his arm off it. The other never said a -word. -</p> - -<p> -The boat moved slowly now. The problem was to discover the awaiting -felucca without lights and with her sails lowered. Several times Attilio -stood up to have a look without being able to make out anything. He was -growing uneasy. He spoke to Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -"I hope we haven't passed her by. If we once get her between us and the -land it will be hopeless to catch sight of her till the day breaks. -Better rest on your oars." -</p> - -<p> -He remained standing himself. His eyes roamed to and fro patiently and -suddenly he emitted a short laugh. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, there she is." -</p> - -<p> -He steered, still standing, while the others pulled gently. The old man, -who had not emitted a sound, had slipped off the seat on to the stem -sheets. Attilio said quietly, "Take your oars in," and suddenly Cosmo -felt the boat bump against the low side of the felucca, which he had -never tinned his head to see. No had or even murmur came from her. She -had no lights. Attilio's voice said, "You first, signore," and Cosmo, -looking up, saw three motionless heads above the bulwarks. No word was -spoken to him. He was not even looked at by those silent and shadowy -men. The first sound he heard were the words, "Take care," pronounced by -Attilio in connection with getting the old boatman on board. Cosmo, -standing aside, saw a group carry him over to the other side of the -deck. While the sails were being hoisted he sat on the hatch and came to -the very verge of believing himself invisible till suddenly Attilio -stood by his side. -</p> - -<p> -"Like this we will catch the very first breath of day-break, and may a -breeze follow it to take us out of sight of that town defiled by the -Austrians and soon to be the prey of the nobles and the priests." He -paused. "So at least Cantelucci says. There are bed places below, if you -want to take some rest, signore." -</p> - -<p> -"I am not sleepy," said Cosmo. If no longer invisible, he could still -feel disembodied, as it were. He was neither sleepy nor tired, nor -hungry, nor even curious, as if altogether freed from the weaknesses of -the body, and not indifferent but without apprehensions or speculations -of any sort to disturb his composure as if of a fully informed wisdom. -He did not seem to himself to weigh more than a feather. He was -suffering the reaction of the upheaval of all his feelings and the -endless contest of his thoughts and that sort of mental agony which had -taken possession of him while he was descending the great staircase of -the Palazzo under the eye of the Count of Montevesso. It was as though -one of those fevers in which the victim watches his own delirium had -left him irresponsible, like a sick man in his bed. Attilio went on: -</p> - -<p> -"Cantelucci's an experienced conspirator. He thinks that the force of -the people is such that it would be like an uprising of the ground -itself. May be, but where is the man that would know how to use it?" -</p> - -<p> -Cosmo let it go by like a problem that could await solution or as a -matter of mere vain words. The night air did not stir, and Attilio -changed his tone. -</p> - -<p> -"They had their lines out ever since the calm began. We will have fish -to eat in the morning. You will have to be one of ourselves for a time -and observe the customs of the common people." -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me, Attilio," Cosmo questioned, not widely but in a quiet, almost -confidential tone, and laying his hand for the first time on the -shoulder of that man only a little older than himself. "Tell me, what am -I doing here?" -</p> - -<p> -Attilio, the wanderer of the seas along the southern shores of the earth -and the pupil of the hermit of the plains that lie under the -constellation of the southern sky, smiled in the dark, a faint friendly -gleam of white teeth in an over-shadowed face. But all the answer he -made was: -</p> - -<p> -"Who would dare say now that our stars have not come together? Come to -sit at the stem, signore. I can find a rug to throw over a coil of rope -for a seat. I am now the padrone of that felucca, but of course barring -her appointed work you are entirely the master of her." -</p> - -<p> -These words were said with a marked accent of politeness such as one -uses for a courtesy formula. But he stopped for a moment on his way aft -to point his finger on the deck. -</p> - -<p> -"We have thrown a bit of canvas over him. Yes, that is the old man whose -last bit of work was to steer a boat, and strange to think perhaps it -had been done for Italy." -</p> - -<p> -"Where is his star now?" said Cosmo, after looking down in silence for a -time. -</p> - -<p> -"Signore, it should be out," said Attilio with studied intonation. 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