"You have threatened me with arrest, therefore I will maintain silence
until it pleases you to endeavour to ruin me. Then together we will
provide a little sensationalism for the _Farfalla_, the _Tribuna_, the
_Secolo_, and one or two other journals who will only be too ready to
see a change of Ministry."
He hesitated, seeming to digest her words laboriously. She glanced
quickly at his dark face, which the distant rays of a lamp illumined,
and in that instant knew she had triumphed.
"You would try and ruin me, eh?" he cried in a hoarse menace.
"To upset the whole political situation in Rome is quite easy of
accomplishment, I assure you, my dear Marquis," she declared, smiling.
"The Opposition will be ready to hound out of office you and all your
rabble of bank-thieves, blackmailers, adventurers, and others who are so
ingeniously feathering their nests at the expense of Italy. Ah, what a
herd!"
Montelupo frowned. He knew quite well that she spoke the truth, yet
with diplomatic instinct he still maintained a bold front.
"Bah!" he cried defiantly. "You cannot injure me. When you are in
prison you'll have little opportunity for uttering any of your wild
denunciations. The people, too, are getting a little tired of the
various mare's-nest scandals started almost daily by the irresponsible
journals. They've ceased to believe in them."
"Yes, without proofs," she observed.
"You have no proof. You and I are not strangers," Montelupo said.
"First, recollect we are in England, and you cannot order my immediate
arrest. Days must elapse before your application reaches London from
Rome. In the meantime I am free to act." Then, with a tinge of bitter
sarcasm in her voice, she added, "No, Excellency, your plan does not do
you credit. I always thought you far more shrewd."
"Whatever so-called proofs you possess, no one will for an instant
believe you," he laughed with fine composure. "Recollect I am Minister
for Foreign Affairs; then recollect who you are."
"I am your dupe, your victim," she cried in a fierce paroxysm of anger.
"My name stinks in the nostrils of every one in Italy--and why? Because
you, the man who now denounces me, wove about me a network of pitfalls
which it was impossible for me to avoid. You saw that, because I moved
in smart society, because I had good looks and hosts of friends, I was
the person to become your catspaw--your stepping-stone into office.
You--"
"Silence, curse you!" Montelupo cried fiercely, his hands clenched.
"I'm too busy with the present to have any time for recollecting the
past. It was a fair and business-like arrangement. You've been paid."
"Yes, with coin stolen from the Treasury by your rogues and swindlers
who pose before Italy as patriots and politicians."
"It matters not to such a woman as you whence comes the money you
require to keep up your fine appearance," he said angrily, for this
reference to his political party had raised his blood to fever-heat.
"Even though I have this unenviable reputation which you have been
pleased to give me throughout Italy, I am at least honest," she cried.
"Towards your lovers--eh?"
Standing before him, in a violent outburst of anger, she shook both her
gloved hands in his face, saying--
"Enough--enough of your insults! For the sake of the land I love, for
the sake of Italy's power and prestige, and for your reputation I have
suffered. But remember that the bond which fetters me to you will snap
if stretched too far; that instead of assisting you, I can ruin you."
"You speak plainly certainly," he said, after a moment's hesitation.
"I do. Through your evil machinations I have no reputation to lose.
With artful ingenuity you compromised me, you spread scandals about me
in Florence, in Venice, in Rome, scandals that were the vilest libels
man ever uttered. In your club you told men that there was something
more between us than mere friendship, that I was extravagant, and that I
cost you as much in diamonds at Fasoli's in the Corso, on a single
afternoon, as the Government paid you in a whole year. Such were the
lies you spread in order to ruin me," she cried bitterly. "Never have I
had a soldo from your private purse, never a single ornament, and never
have your foul lips touched mine. You, who boldly announced yourself my
lover, I have ever held in scorn and hatred as I do now. The money I
received was from the Treasury--part of that sum yearly filched from the
Government funds to keep up your rickety old castle outside Empoli; but
bound as I was by my oath of secrecy I could utter no word in
self-defence, nor prosecute the journals which spread their
highly-spiced libels. You held me beneath your thrall, and I, although
an honest woman, have remained crushed and powerless." Then she paused.
"Proceed," he observed with sarcasm. "I am all attention."
"No more need be said," she answered. "I will now leave you, and wish
you a pleasant journey back to Rome," and she bowed and turned away.
"Come," he cried, dragging her by force back to the seat. "Don't be an
idiot, Gemma, but listen. I brought you here," he commenced, "not to
fence with you, as we have been doing, but to make a proposal; one that
I think you will seriously consider."
"Some further shady trick, I suppose. Well, explain your latest scheme.
It is sure to be interesting!"
"As you rightly suggest, it is a trick, Contessa," he said, in a tone
rather more conciliatory, and for the first time speaking without any
show of politeness. "Within the past ten days the situation in Rome has
undergone an entire change, although the journals know nothing; and in
consequence I find Castellani, who has for years been my friend and
supporter, is now one of my bitterest opponents. If there is a change
of government he would no doubt be appointed Foreign Minister in my
place."
"Well, you don't fear him, surely?" she said. "You are Minister, and
can recall him at any moment."
"No. Castellani holds a certain document which, if produced, must cause
the overthrow of the Government, and perhaps the ruin of our country,"
he answered in deep earnestness. "Before long, in order to clear
himself and place himself in favour, he must produce this paper, and if
so the revelations will startle Europe."
"Well, that is nothing to me," she said coldly. "It is entirely your
affair."
"Listen!" he exclaimed eagerly. He was now confiding to her one of the
deepest secrets of the political undercurrent. "This document is in a
sealed blue envelope, across the face of which a large cross has been
drawn in blue pencil. Remember that. It is in the top left-hand drawer
in the Ambassador's writing-table in his private room. You know the
room; the small one looking out into Grosvenor Square. You no doubt
recollect it when you were visiting there two years ago."
"Certainly," she contented herself with replying, still puzzled at the
strangeness of his manner. The wind moaned mournfully through the bare
branches above them.
"You are friendly with Castellani's daughter," he went on earnestly.
"Call to-morrow with the object of visiting her, and then you must make
some excuse to enter that room alone."
"You mean that I must steal that incriminating paper?" she said.
He nodded.
"Impossible!" she replied decisively. "First, I don't intend to run any
risk, and, secondly, I know quite well that nobody is allowed in that
room alone. The door is always kept locked."
"There are two keys," he interrupted. "Here is one of them. I secured
it yesterday."
"And in return for this service, what am I to receive?" she inquired
coldly, sitting erect, without stirring a muscle.
"In return for this service"--he answered gravely, his dark eyes riveted
upon hers--"in return for this service you shall name your own price."