'We have had a very pleasant talk, and we are quite good friends, are we
not?'
'Quite!' she said.
I drew a long breath as I left her. I hoped I had hurt; I hoped I had
humiliated her. I wished I could have thought of things to say that
would have cut her to the heart. I was quite indifferent to her, but
when I remembered--I hated her.
I knew everyone in Forli by now, and as I turned away from Giulia I had
no lack of friends with whom to talk. The rooms became more crowded
every moment. The assembly was the most brilliant that Forli had ever
seen; and as the evening wore on the people became more animated; a
babel of talk drowned the music, and the chief topic of conversation was
the wonderful beauty of Caterina. She was bubbling over with high
spirits; no one knew what had happened to make her so joyful, for of
late she had suffered a little from the unpopularity of her husband, and
a sullen look of anger had replaced the old smiles and graces. But
to-night she was herself again. Men were standing round talking to her,
and one heard a shout of laughter from them as every now and then she
made some witty repartee; and her conversation gained another charm from
a sort of soldierly bluntness which people remembered in Francesco
Sforza, and which she had inherited. People also spoke of the cordiality
of Girolamo towards our Checco; he walked up and down the room with him,
arm in arm, talking affectionately; it reminded the onlookers of the
time when they had been as brothers together. Caterina occasionally gave
them a glance and a little smile of approval; she was evidently well
pleased with the reconciliation.
I was making my way through the crowd, watching the various people,
giving a word here and there or a nod, and I thought that life was
really a very amusing thing. I felt mightily pleased with myself, and I
wondered where my good friend Claudia was; I must go and pay her my
respects.
'Filippo!'
I turned and saw Scipione Moratini standing by his sister, with a number
of gentlemen and ladies, most of them known to me.
'Why are you smiling so contentedly?' he said. 'You look as if you had
lost a pebble and found a diamond in its place.'
'Perhaps I have; who knows?'
At that moment I saw Ercole Piacentini enter the room with his wife; I
wondered why they were so late. Claudia was at once seized upon by one
of her admirers, and, leaving her husband, sauntered off on the
proffered arm. Ercole came up the room on his way to the Count. His grim
visage was contorted into an expression of amiability, which sat on him
with an ill grace.
'This is indeed a day of rejoicing,' I said; 'even the wicked ogre is
trying to look pleasant.'
Giulia gave a little silvery laugh. I thought it forced.
'You have a forgiving spirit, dear friend,' she said, accenting the last
word in recollection of what I had said to her. 'A truly Christian
disposition!'
'Why?' I asked, smiling.
'I admire the way in which you have forgiven Ercole for the insults he
has offered you; one does not often find a gentleman who so charitably
turns his other cheek to the smiter!'
I laughed within myself; she was trying to be even with me. I was glad
to see that my darts had taken good effect. Scipione interposed, for
what his sister had said was sufficiently bitter.
'Nonsense, Giulia!' he said. 'You know Filippo is the last man to
forgive his enemies until the breath is well out of their bodies; but
circumstances--'
Giulia pursed up her lips into an expression of contempt.
'Circumstances. I was surprised, because I remembered the vigour with
which Messer Filippo had vowed to revenge himself.'
'Oh, but Messer Filippo considers that he has revenged himself very
effectively,' I said.
'How?'
'There are more ways of satisfying one's honour than by cutting a hole
in a person's chest.'
'What do you mean, Filippo?' said Scipione.
'Did you not see as he passed?'
'Ercole? What?'
'Did you not see the adornment of his noble head, the elegant pair of
horns?'
They looked at me, not quite understanding; then I caught sight of
Claudia, who was standing close to us.
'Ah, I see the diamond I have found in place of the pebble I have lost.
I pray you excuse me.'
Then as they saw me walk towards Claudia they understood, and I heard a
burst of laughter. I took my lady's hand, and bowing deeply, kissed it
with the greatest fervour. I glanced at Giulia from the corner of my
eyes and saw her looking down on the ground, with a deep blush of anger
on her face. My heart leapt for joy to think that I had returned
something of the agony she had caused me.
The evening grew late and the guests began to go. Checco, as he passed
me, asked,--
'Are you ready?'
'Yes!' I said, accompanying him to Girolamo and the Countess to take our
leave.
'You are very unkind, Checco,' said the Countess. 'You have not come
near me the whole evening.'
'You have been so occupied,' he answered.
'But I am not now,' she replied, smiling.
'The moment I saw you free I came to you.'
'To say good-bye.'
'It is very late.'
'No, surely; sit down and talk to me.'
Checco did as he was bid, and I, seeing he meant to stay longer,
sauntered off again in search of friends. The conversation between
Checco and the Countess was rather hindered by the continual
leave-takings, as the people began to go away rapidly, in groups. I sat
myself down in a window with Matteo, and we began comparing notes of our
evening; he told me of a new love to whom he had discovered his passion
for the first time.
'Fair wind, foul wind?' I asked, laughing.
'She pretended to be very angry,' he said, 'but she allowed me to see
that if the worst came to the worst she would not permit me to break my
heart.'
I looked out into the room and found that everyone had gone, except
Ercole Piacentini, who was talking to the Count in undertones.
'I am getting so sleepy,' said Matteo. We went forward to the Countess,
who said, as she saw us come,--
'Go away, Matteo! I will not have you drag Checco away yet; we have been
trying to talk to one another for the last half-hour, and now that we
have the chance at last I refuse to be disturbed.'
'I would not for worlds rob Checco of such pleasure,' said Matteo;
adding to me, as we retired to our window, 'What a nuisance having to
wait for one's cousin while a pretty woman is flirting with him!'
'You have me to talk to--what more can you want!'
'I don't want to talk to you at all,' he answered, laughing.
Girolamo was still with Ercole. His mobile eyes were moving over the
room, hardly ever resting on Ercole's face, but sometimes on us, more
often on Checco. I wondered whether he was jealous.
At last Checco got up and said Good-night. Then Girolamo came forward.
'You are not going yet,' he said. 'I want to speak with you on the
subject of those taxes.'
It was the first time he had mentioned them.
'It is getting so late,' said Checco, 'and these good gentlemen are
tired.'
'They can go home. Really, it is very urgent.'
Checco hesitated, and looked at us.
'We will wait for you,' said Matteo.
Girolamo's eyes moved about here and there, never resting a moment, from
Checco to me, from me to Matteo, and on to his wife, and then on again,
with extraordinary rapidity--it was quite terrifying.
'One would think you were afraid of leaving Checco in our hands,' said
the Countess, smiling.
'No,' returned Matteo; 'but I look forward to having some of your
attention now that Checco is otherwise occupied. Will you let me
languish?'
She laughed, and a rapid glance passed between her and the Count.
'I shall be only too pleased,' she said, 'come and sit by me, one on
each side.'
The Count turned to Ercole.
'Well, good-night, my friend,' he said. 'Good-night!'
Ercole left us, and Girolamo, taking Checco's arm, walked up and down
the room, speaking. The Countess and Matteo commenced a gay
conversation. Although I was close to them I was left alone, and I
watched the Count. His eyes fascinated me, moving ceaselessly. What
could be behind them? What could be the man's thoughts that his eyes
should never rest? They enveloped the person they looked at--his head,
every feature of his face, his body, his clothes; one imagined there was
no detail they had not caught; it was as if they ate into the very soul
of the man.
The two men tramped up and down, talking earnestly; I wondered what they
were saying. At last Girolamo stopped.
'Ah, well, I must have mercy on you; I shall tire you to death. And you
know I do not wish to do anything to harm you.'
Checco smiled.
'Whatever difficulty there has been between us, Checco, you know that
there has never on my part been any ill-feeling towards you. I have
always had for you a very sincere and affectionate friendship.'
And as he said the words an extraordinary change came over him. The
eyes, the mobile eyes, stopped still at last; for the first time I saw
them perfectly steady, motionless, like glass; they looked fixedly into
Checco's eyes, without winking, and their immobility was as strange as
their perpetual movement, and to me it was more terrifying. It was as if
Girolamo was trying to see his own image in Checco's soul.
We bade them farewell, and together issued out into the silence of the
night; and I felt that behind us the motionless eyes, like glass, were
following us into the darkness.