I
It was Sunday. The storm threatened by the sunset of the day before had
not yet come, but the sun was struggling through a veil of clouds, and a
black ridge lay over the horizon.
At eleven o'clock to the moment the Baron arrived. As usual, he was
faultlessly dressed, and he looked cool and tranquil.
"I am to show you into this room, Excellency," said Felice, leading the
way to the boudoir.
"Thanks!... Anything to tell me, Felice?"
"Nothing, Excellency," said Felice. Then, pointing to the plaster bust
on its pedestal in the corner, he added in a lower tone, "_He_ remained
last night after the others had gone, and...."
But at that moment there was the rustle of a woman's dress outside, and,
interrupting Felice, the Baron said in a high-pitched voice:
"Certainly; and please tell the Countess I shall not forget to look in
upon her before I go."
Roma came into the room with a gloomy and firm-set face. The smile that
seemed always to play about her mouth and eyes had given place to a
slight frown and an air of defiance. But the Baron saw in a moment that
behind the lips so sternly set, and the straight look of the eyes, there
was a frightened expression which she was trying to conceal. He greeted
her with his accustomed calm and naturalness, kissed her hand, offered
her the flower from his button-hole, put her to sit in the arm-chair
with its back to the window, took his own seat on the couch in front of
it, and leisurely drew off his spotless gloves.
Not a word about the scene of yesterday, not a look of pain or reproof.
Only a few casual pleasantries, and then a quiet gliding into the
business of his visit.
"What an age since we were here alone before! And what changes you've
made! Your pretty nest is like a cell! Well, I've obeyed your mandate,
you see. I've stayed away for a month. It was hard to do--bitterly
hard--and many a time I've told myself it was imprudent. But you were a
woman. You were inexorable. I was forced to submit. And now, what have
you got to tell me?"
"Nothing," she answered, looking straight before her.
"Nothing whatever?"
"Nothing whatever."
She did not move or turn her face, and he sat for a moment watching her.
Then he rose, and began to walk about the room.
"Let us understand each other, my child," he said gently. "Will you
forgive me if I recall facts that are familiar?"
She did not answer, but looked fixedly into the fire, while he leaned on
the stove and stood face to face with her.
"A month ago, a certain Deputy, an obstructionist politician, who has
for years made the task of government difficult, uttered a seditious
speech, and brought himself within the power of the law. In that speech
he also attacked me, and--shall I say?--grossly slandered you.
Parliament was not in session, and I was able to order his arrest. In
due course, he would have been punished, perhaps by imprisonment,
perhaps by banishment, but you thought it prudent to intervene. You
urged reasons of policy which were wise and far-seeing. I yielded, and,
to the bewilderment of my officials, I ordered the Deputy's release. But
he was not therefore to escape. You undertook his punishment. In a
subtle and more effectual way, you were to wipe out the injury he had
done, and requite him for his offence. The man was a mystery--you were
to find out all about him. He was suspected of intrigue--you were to
discover his conspiracies. Within a month, you were to deliver him into
my hands, and I was to know _the inmost secrets of his soul_."
It was with difficulty that Roma maintained her calmness while the Baron
was speaking, but she only shook a stray lock of hair from her forehead,
and sat silent.
"Well, the month is over. I have given you every opportunity to deal
with our friend as you thought best. Have you found out anything about
him?"