"It would be easy to retaliate, my dear, but it would be unwise."
"Why? If he remains in office, he may to-morrow, or on some occasion
when you least expect it, level a blow that might crush you?"
"I know! I know!" he groaned. "I am not safe by any means. Until Vito
discovers what has really occurred I must remain patiently inactive."
"But why not remove Borselli from office? You could surely do that! It
is your duty to yourself to do so!"
"Ah! You do not know everything, Mary," answered her father very
gravely. "To attempt his dismissal at the present moment would be a
most injudicious course. By making charges against him I should also
implicate myself. If I spoke a single word to his detriment, it would
be suicidal. I should be seeking my own downfall."
"Then, to speak plainly, you are unable to dismiss him?" she said in a
low, distinct voice, looking her father straight in the face with a
glance of reproach. "You are entirely in that man's hands?"
His Excellency, grave and thoughtful again, nodded in the affirmative,
sighed heavily, and then admitted--
"You know the truth, my dear. My secrets are, unfortunately, his?"
And she echoed his sigh with her white lips compressed. She foresaw,
alas! that for her there was no hope of escape from that hideous compact
she had been compelled to make. She had given herself as the price of
her father's honour, the price of his very life, to a man whom she could
neither trust nor love--a man who, when it suited his own interests,
would break his bond without the slightest compunction, and allow the
crushing blow to fall upon her house--a blow that must be fatal to her
beloved father, who stood there so grave and thoughtful at her side.
She contemplated the future, but saw in it only a grey, limitless sea of
blank despair.