Ghisleri rose to meet his visitors, who greeted him gravely and sat down
opposite him so that they could all look at his face while speaking.
Prince Savelli naturally spoke first.
"We have come to you," he said, "upon a very difficult and unpleasant
affair. In the first place, I must beg you to listen to what I have to
say as calmly as you can, remembering that we have not come here to
quarrel with you, but to act on behalf of a lady. This being the case,
we claim to be treated as ambassadors, to be heard and to be answered."
"You speak as though you were about to make a very disagreeable
communication," answered Ghisleri. "The presence of Signor Grondona
either shows that you intend to make use of what I may say, or that your
business is of a legal nature. If the latter supposition is the true
one, it would be much better that we should leave the whole matter to
our respective lawyers rather than run the risk of useless discussion.
But if your lawyer is here to watch me and make notes, I would point out
that I have a right to resent such observation, and to request you to
find some other means of informing me of your meaning. As you tell me
that you are acting for a lady, however, and claim personal immunity, so
to say, for yourselves, I am willing to listen to you and to consider
what you say as proceeding from her and not from you. But in no case
have you any claim to be answered. That is the most I can do towards
helping you with your errand. Judge for yourselves whether you will
execute it or not."
"I will certainly not go away without saying what I have come to say,"
replied Savelli, fixing his bright, spectacled eyes upon Ghisleri's
face. "We are here to represent Donna Adele Savelli--let that be
understood, if you please. She wishes you to hand over to us a certain
letter, of the nature of a confession, which you found at Gerano about
two years and a half ago, and which you still hold."
Ghisleri was less surprised than might have been expected. His face grew
slowly pale as he listened, steadily returning the speaker's gaze.
"I promised you personal immunity from the consequences of what you were
about to say," he answered slowly. "It was a rash promise, I find, but
I will keep it. You may inform Donna Adele Savelli that although it is
commonly said in the world that she has actually lost such a letter as
you mention, I have never seen it, nor have I any knowledge of its
contents. Further, I demand, as a right, to be told upon what imaginary
evidence she ventures to bring such an outrageous accusation against
me."
The Advocato Grondona smiled, but the two noblemen preserved an unmoved
manner. Of the two, Gerano was the more surprised by Ghisleri's answer.
He had believed that a letter really existed, and was in the latter's
hands, but that it would not prove to have the importance his daughter
attached to it. Prince Savelli produced a bundle of papers from his
pocket.
"I am quite prepared," he said. "I will state my daughter-in-law's case
as accurately as I can, and as nearly as possible in her own words, a
great part of which I have here, in the form of notes."
"It is understood that Donna Adele Savelli is speaking, gentlemen. On
that understanding you have my permission to proceed. I will not
interrupt you."
Savelli began to speak, and, as he had promised, he stated the case as
he had heard it from Adele and, on the whole, very much as she had
summed it up in her own mind before going to him. Ghisleri sat with
folded arms and bent brows, listening to the wonderfully connected chain
of false testimony she brought against him, with all the courage and
calmness he could command.
"Have you done?" he inquired in a voice shaking with anger, when Savelli
had finished.
"Yes," answered the latter coolly. "I believe that is all."
"Then I have to say that a more villanous calumny was never invented to
ruin any man. Good morning, gentlemen." He rose, and the three others
were obliged to rise also.
"And so you positively refuse to give up the letter?" inquired Savelli;
there was an angry light in his eyes, too.
"I have given you my answer already. Be good enough to convey it to
Donna Adele Savelli."
"Are you aware, Signore," said the lawyer, stepping in front of his two
clients, "that upon such evidence as we possess you are liable to be
indicted for an attempt to extort money from the Princess Adele
Savelli?"
"You are not privileged, like these gentlemen," said Ghisleri, white to
the lips. "If you venture to speak again, my servant will silence you. I
have already hinted that this interview is ended," he added to Savelli
and Gerano.
The three went out in silence and left him alone. With characteristic
coolness he sat down to recover from the violent shock he had sustained,
and to reflect upon his future conduct, before sending for Ubaldini and
consulting with him. He had almost expected the demand to restore a
document he did not possess, but he was not prepared for the
well-constructed story by which Savelli, Gerano, and their lawyer had
been persuaded of his guilt. The lawyer's words had placed the whole
affair in a light which showed how thoroughly convinced the three men
were of the justice of their accusation, and Ghisleri understood well
enough that Savelli intended to take legal steps. What those steps might
be, Pietro had not the least idea. He rang for Bonifazio and sent him
out to buy the Penal Code. It was probably the wisest thing he could do
under the circumstances, as he did not even know whether, if he were
arrested, he should be admitted to bail or not. He saw well enough that
an order for his arrest might very possibly be issued. Grondona was far
too grave and learned a lawyer to have uttered such a threat in vain,
and was not the man to waste time or words when action was possible. If
he had spoken as he had, he had done so for his clients' advantage, in
the hope that Ghisleri might be frightened at the last minute into
giving up the letter. In that way all publicity and scandal could have
been avoided.
But it was clear that the die was cast, and that war was declared. More
than ever, he was glad that Laura Arden was not in Rome. The thought
that if she were present she would necessarily have to follow the course
of events little by little, as he must himself, and the certainty that
she knew the truth and would feel the keenest sympathy for him, made him
rejoice at her absence. When she learned what had taken place, she would
know all the circumstances at once, including Ghisleri's proof of his
innocence, which, as he felt sure, would be triumphant. In the meantime,
she should be kept in ignorance of what was occurring. Having decided
this point, he began to think of choosing some person to whom, if he
were actually arrested, he might apply for assistance in the matter of
obtaining bail. There was no time to be lost, as he was well aware.
Since Savelli really believed him guilty of the abominable crime with
which he was charged, it was not likely that time would be given him to
leave the country, as his adversaries would naturally expect that he
would attempt to do. They had probably gone straight from his lodging to
the office of the chief of police,--the questore, as he is called in
Italy,--and if they succeeded, as in all likelihood they would, in
getting a warrant for his arrest, he might expect the warrant to be
executed at any moment during the day. It was extremely important that
he should be prepared for the worst. He thought of all the men he knew,
and after a little hesitation he decided that he would write to San
Giacinto. The latter had always been friendly to him, and Pietro
remembered how he had spoken at the club, years ago, when Pietrasanta
was gossiping about Arden's supposed intemperance. San Giacinto's very
great moral weight in the world, due in different degrees to his
character, his superior judgment, and his enormous wealth, made him the
most desirable of allies. While he was waiting for Bonifazio's return,
Ghisleri occupied himself in writing a note advising San Giacinto of the
circumstances, and inquiring whether he might ask him for help.
The servant returned as he finished, and handed his master the little
yellow-covered volume with an expression of inquiry on his face.
Ghisleri looked at him and hesitated, debating whether it would be wise
to warn the man of what might take place at any moment. There was much
friendliness in the relations between the two. Bonifazio had been with
Pietro many years and perhaps understood the latter's character better
than any one. The servant was almost as unlike other people, in his own
way, as Ghisleri himself, and was in two respects a remarkable contrast
to him. He was imperturbably good-tempered in the first place, and, in
the second, he was extremely devout. But there were resemblances also,
and it was for these that Ghisleri liked him. He was honest to a fault.
He had more than once proved himself to be coolly courageous in some of
his master's dangerous expeditions. Finally, he was discretion itself,
and reticent in the highest degree. That such an otherwise perfect
creature should have defects was only to be expected. Bonifazio was as
obstinate as flint when he had made up his mind as to how any particular
thing was to be done. He was silently officious, in his anxiety to be
always ready to fulfil his master's wishes, and often annoyed him in
small ways by thrusting services upon him which he did not require. On
rare occasions he would insist upon giving very useless and uncalled-for
advice.
Faithful and devoted in every way, he wholly disapproved, on religious
grounds, of Ghisleri's mode of life, even so far as he was acquainted
with it. He considered that Pietro lived and had lived for many years in
seven-fold deadly sin, and he daily offered up the most sincere prayers
for Pietro's repentance and reformation. Twice a year, also, he
privately presented the parish priest with a small charity out of his
savings, requesting him to say a mass for Ghisleri's benefit. Obstinate
in this as in everything else, he firmly believed that his master's soul
might ultimately be saved by sheer prayer-power, so to say.
These last facts, of course, did not come within Ghisleri's knowledge,
for Bonifazio made no outward show of pious interest in Pietro's
spiritual welfare, well knowing that he could not keep his situation an
hour, if he were so unwise as to risk anything of the kind. But his
silent disapproval showed itself in his mournful expression when Pietro
had done anything which struck him as more than usually wicked and wild.
The question of informing him that the police might be expected at any
moment was not in itself a serious one. He would assuredly disbelieve
the whole story, and vigorously deny the accusation when acquainted with
both. Ghisleri determined to say nothing and immediately sent him out
again with the note for San Giacinto. He then took up the Penal Code,
and found the article referring to the misdeed of which he was accused.
It read as follows:
ART 409. Whosoever, by in any way inspiring fear of severe injury to
the person, the honour, or the property of another, or by falsely
representing the order of an Authority, constrains that other to
send, deposit, or place at the disposal of the delinquent money,
objects, or documents having any legal import whatsoever, is
punished with imprisonment for a term of from two to ten years.
The law was clear enough. With regard to bail, he discovered with some
difficulty that in such cases it could be obtained immediately, either
on depositing the sum of money considered requisite according to
circumstances, or by the surety of one or more well-known persons.
San Giacinto answered the note by appearing in person. When he undertook
anything, he generally proceeded to the scene of action at once to
ascertain for himself the true state of the case. Ghisleri explained
matters as succinctly as possible.
"You will hardly believe that such things can be done in our day," he
said as he concluded.
"I have seen enough in my time, and amongst my own near connexions, to
know that almost anything conceivable may happen," answered the giant.
"Meanwhile I shall not leave you until the police come, or until we
know definitely that they are not coming. My carriage is below and has
orders to wait all day and all night."
"You do not mean to say you really intend to stay with me?" asked
Ghisleri, who was not prepared for such a manifestation of friendship.
"That is my intention," replied the other, calmly lighting a long black
cigar. "If it lasts long, I will sleep on your sofa. If, however, you
prefer that I should go to Savelli and make him tell me what he intends
to do, I am quite ready. I think I could make him tell me."
"I think you could," said Ghisleri, with a smile, as he looked at his
friend.
The huge, giant strength of the man was imposing in itself, apart from
the terribly determined look of the iron features and deep-set eyes. Few
men would have cared to find themselves opposed to San Giacinto even
when he was perfectly calm, hardly any, perhaps, if his anger was
roused. The last time he had been angry had been when he dragged the
forger, Arnoldo Meschini, from the library to the study in Palazzo
Montevarchi more than twenty years earlier. His hair was turning grey
now, but there were no outward signs of any diminution in his powers,
physical or mental.
"In any case," he said, "some time must elapse. It will need the greater
part of the day to get a warrant of arrest."
Ghisleri would have been glad to end his suspense by allowing his friend
to go directly to Savelli, as he had proposed to do. But considering
what he had already shown himself ready to do, Pietro did not wish to
involve him in the affair any further than necessary.
"Is it of any use to send for my lawyer?" asked Ghisleri, well aware of
San Giacinto's superior experience in all legal matters.
"There is not the least hurry," answered the latter. "If the affair is
brought to trial, there will be time enough and to spare. But if it
amuses you, let us have the man here and ask his opinion. It can do no
harm."
Accordingly Ubaldini was sent for. He looked very grave when Ghisleri
had repeated all that Savelli had told him.
"But the mere fact that I consulted you when I did," said Ghisleri, "and
had copies of my answers made, ought to prove at once that I knew even
then what Donna Adele wished to attempt." But Ubaldini only shrugged his
shoulders.
"That will be against you," answered San Giacinto. "It will be said that
you were well aware of what you were doing, and that you were taking
precautions in case of exposure. Even if Lady Herbert were here to give
evidence, it would not help you much. After all, Donna Adele's story
about the seamstress is plausible, and Lady Herbert took your
explanation on faith."
"Lady Herbert shall not be called as a witness, if I can help it," said
Ghisleri. "It is bad enough that her name should appear at all."
"The difficulty," observed Ubaldini, "is that every point can be turned
against you from first to last. I am afraid that even my little
stratagem has done no good. I wished to find out whether the confession
really existed, and I thought it best that you should be in ignorance of
the steps I took and of the result I obtained, in case you should be
called upon to swear to anything in a possible action brought by you for
defamation. The less an innocent man knows of the facts of a case, when
he is on his oath, the better it generally turns out for him. The first
thing to be done is to find the dealer with whom you negotiated for the
purchase of the manuscript. His evidence will be the strongest we can
get. Of course, even to that they will answer that you would not be so
foolish as to write what looked like an account of a genuine transaction
without lending an air of truth to it, in case of necessity, by actually
making inquiries about it. If it is found that the prices named in your
letters agree with those asked by the dealer, they will say that you
cleverly chose a very valuable work, and determined to be guided by the
value of it, in appraising the letter you held. If the prices did not
agree, they would say that even if the transaction were genuine, you had
conducted it dishonestly; but then, as a matter of fact, the discovery
was a good proof that it was a mere sham. Of course, too, you will have
friends, like the Signor Marchese here present, who will swear to your
previous character; but you must not forget that in a case like this the
great body of educated public and social opinion is with the woman
rather than the man."
"In other words," said Ghisleri, with a laugh, "I am to stand my trial
for extortion, and am very likely to be convicted. You are not very
encouraging, Signor Ubaldini, but I suppose you will find a word to say
in my defence before everything is over."
"I will do my best," answered the young lawyer, thoughtfully. "I would
like to know where this confession is. One thing is quite certain: if it
had got into the hands of a dishonest person, Donna Adele would have
heard of it before now, and would have tried to buy it, as she did try
to get it from the maid Lucia, according to her own account, and from
me. In the meanwhile, I will go and examine the dealer. Will you kindly
give me his name and address."
Ghisleri wrote both on a card and Ubaldini went away. Before Ghisleri
and San Giacinto had been alone together half an hour, he came back,
looking rather pale and excited.
"It is most unfortunate," he exclaimed. "The devil is certainly in this
business. The man was buried yesterday. He died of apoplexy two days
ago."
"Nothing surpasses the stupidity of that!" cried San Giacinto, angrily.
"Why could not the idiot have lived a fortnight longer?"
Ghisleri said nothing, but he saw what importance both his friend and
the lawyer had attached to the dead man's testimony. There was little
hope that his clerk would be able to say anything in Ghisleri's favour.
He had of course only spoken with the dealer himself, generally in a
private room and without witnesses. He began to fear that his case was
even worse than he had at first supposed.
"The best possible defence, in my opinion," said Ubaldini, "is to tell
your own story and compare it, inch by inch, with theirs. I believe
that, after all, yours will seem by far the more probable in the eyes of
any court of justice. Then we will question Donna Adele's sanity, and
bring a couple of celebrated authorities to prove that people who use
morphia often go mad and have fixed ideas. Donna Adele's delusion is
that you are the possessor of her confession. If we cannot prove that it
has been all this time in the hands of some one else, we may at least be
able to show that there is no particular reason why it should have been
in yours, that you are certainly not in need of fifty thousand francs,
and that, so far as any one knows, you are not the man to try and get it
in this way if you were. We will do the best we can. I got a man off
scot free the other day who had murdered his brother in the presence of
three witnesses. I proved that one was half-witted, that the second was
drunk, and that the third could not possibly have been present at all,
because he ought to have been somewhere else. That was a much harder
case than this. The jury shed tears of pity for my ill-used client."
"I will do without the tears," said Ghisleri, with a smile, "provided
they will see the truth this time."
San Giacinto kept his word, and refused to leave Ghisleri's lodging that
night, sending Bonifazio to his house for clothes and necessaries, and
ordering fresh horses and another coachman and footman to replace those
that had waited all day. He distinctly objected to cabs, he said,
because they were always too small for him; and if Ghisleri was to be
arrested, he intended to drive with him to the prison in order to give
bail for him immediately. And so he did. On the following day Rome was
surprised by a spectacle unique in the recollection of its inhabitants,
high or low. The largest of the large open carriages belonging to Casa
San Giacinto was seen rolling solemnly through the city, bearing Pietro
Ghisleri, the Marchese di San Giacinto himself, and two policemen, who
looked very uncomfortable as they sat, bolt upright, side by side, with
their backs to the horses. A few hours later, the same carriage appeared
again, Pietro and the giant being still in it, but without the officers
of the law. San Giacinto insisted upon driving his friend six times
round the Villa Borghese, six times round the Pincio, and four times the
length of the Corso, before taking him back at last to his lodgings.
"It will produce a good effect," he said; "most people are fools or
cowards, or both, and imitation as a rule needs neither courage nor
wisdom. Come and dine with us to-morrow night, and I will have a party
ready for you who do not belong to the majority. I shall go to the club
now and give an account of the day's doings."
"Why not wait and let people find out for themselves what has happened?"
asked Pietro. "Will it do any good to talk of it?"
"Since people must talk or die," answered San Giacinto, "I am of opinion
that they had better tell the truth than invent lies."
When he was gone Ghisleri wondered what had impelled him to take so much
trouble. It would have been quite enough if he had appeared at the right
moment to give security for him, and that alone would have been a very
valuable service. But San Giacinto had done much more, for his action
had shown the world from the first that he intended to take Ghisleri's
side. The latter, who was always surprised when any one showed anything
approaching to friendship for him, was exceedingly grateful, and
determined that he would not in future laugh at the idea of spontaneous
human kindness without motive, as he had often laughed in the past.
Meanwhile San Giacinto went to his club. A score of men were lounging in
the rooms, and most of them had been talking of the new scandal, though
in a rather guarded way, for no one wished to quarrel either with
Ghisleri or his ally. On seeing the latter go to the smoking-room,
almost every one in the club followed him, out of curiosity, in the hope
that he would give some explanation of what had occurred. They were not
disappointed. San Giacinto stood with his back to the fireplace, looking
at each face that presented itself before him.
"Gentlemen," he began: "I see that you expect me to say something. I
will. I do not wish to offend any one; but, with the exception of all of
ourselves here assembled, most people tell lies, consciously or
unconsciously, when they do not know the truth, and sometimes when they
do, which is worse. So I mean to tell you the truth about my driving
with Ghisleri and two policemen to-day, and the reason why I have been
driving with him all the afternoon. After that you may believe what you
like about the matter. The facts are these. Yesterday Ghisleri wrote me
a note telling me that he expected shortly to be arrested on a charge of
extortion and asking if I would be bail for him. That is what I have
done. The accusation comes from Casa Savelli, and declares that for two
years and a half Ghisleri has had possession of that letter belonging to
Donna Adele which she wrote to her confessor, which was lost on the way,
and of which we have all heard vague hints for some time. Casa Savelli
says that Ghisleri has been trying to make her pay money for it, and has
otherwise made her life unbearable to her by means of it. There are
letters of Ghisleri's referring to the manuscript of Isabella
Montevarchi's confession which was for sale this autumn, and Casa
Savelli says that this manuscript was spoken of in order to disguise the
real transaction contemplated. Ghisleri says it is a plot to ruin him,
and that he has been aware of it ever since last spring. Meanwhile he
has actually been arrested and I have given bail for him. That is the
story. I drove about with him this afternoon to show that I, for my
part, take his side, and believe him to be perfectly innocent. That is
what I had to say. I am obliged to you for having listened so
patiently."
As he turned to go away, not caring for any further discussion at the
time, he was aware that a dark man of medium height, with very broad
shoulders and fierce, black eyes, was standing beside him, facing the
crowd.
"I am entirely of San Giacinto's opinion," said Gianforte Campodonico,
in clear tones. "I believe Ghisleri utterly incapable of any such
baseness. Donna Adele Savelli is a relation of mine, but I will stand by
Ghisleri in this, come what may. I hope that no one will have the
audacity to propose any action of the club in the case, such as
requesting him to withdraw, until after the trial."
"But when a man is indicted for crime, and has been arrested--" began
some one in the crowd.
"I said," repeated Gianforte, interrupting the speaker in a hard and
menacing voice, "that I hoped no one would have the audacity to propose
that the club should take any action in the case. I hope I have made
myself clearly understood."
Such was the character and reputation of Campodonico that the man who
had begun to speak did not attempt to proceed, not so much from
timidity, perhaps, as because he felt that in the end two men like
Gianforte and San Giacinto must carry public opinion with them. As they
stood side by side before the fireplace, they were as strong and
determined a pair of champions as any one could have wished to have.
"You are quite right," said San Giacinto, in an approving tone. "Of
course I have neither the power nor the right to prevent discussion.
Every one will talk about this case and the trial, and as it is a public
affair every one has a right to do so, I suppose. I only wish it to be
known that I believe Ghisleri innocent, and I am glad to see that
Campodonico, who knows him very well, is of my opinion."
After this there was nothing more to be said, and the crowd dispersed,
talking together in low tones. The two men who had undertaken Ghisleri's
defence remained together. San Giacinto looked down at his young
companion, and his stern face softened strangely. A certain kind of
manly courage and generosity was the only thing that ever really touched
him.
"I am glad to see that there are still men in the world," he said. "Will
you have a game of billiards?"
The first result of this was that there was relatively very little talk
about Ghisleri among the men when they were together. It is probable
that both San Giacinto and Campodonico would have spoken precisely as
they did, if all the assembled tribe of Savelli and Gerano had been
present to hear them; and when the two families heard what had been
said, they were very angry indeed. Unfortunately for them, nothing could
be done. As San Giacinto had rightly put it, the trial was to be a
public affair, and every one had a right to his own opinion. But there
were not wanting those who sided with the Savelli, for though Ghisleri
had few enemies, if any, besides Adele, yet there were many who were
jealous of him for his social successes, and who disliked his calm air
of superiority. The story became the constant topic of conversation in
most of the Roman families, and many who had for years received Ghisleri
immediately determined that they would be very cautious and cool until
he should prove his innocence to the world.
He himself, during the days which followed, saw much of San Giacinto,
who told him what Campodonico had said at the club.