A MENACE
Derby did not realize until afterward that the entire conversation at
the Palazzo Sansevero had been about his projects, and that, aside from
a few generalities, he really knew nothing of Nina's winter or of her
Italian experiences. He returned to his hotel at about five o'clock, and
was striding directly toward the smoking-room without glancing to right
or left among the attractive groups that characterize the tea hour at
the Excelsior, when he was arrested by some one's calling, "Why, John
Derby!"
In the crowd of persons and tables he looked blankly for a familiar
face, but, as his name was repeated, he recognized Mrs. Bobby Davis and
her sister, Mildred Hoyt. As soon as Derby reached their table, Mrs.
Davis glibly rattled off the names of the four or five men who comprised
their party. They were all Europeans, who, in regular afternoon
attire--frock coats, and flower in buttonhole--were sipping tea and
eating cake. Derby was in tweeds, and afternoon tea was by no means part
of his daily program.
However, he made the best of it, and also of the remarks that followed,
for he was sooner seated than Mrs. Davis turned all her powers of
sprightly conversation upon the subject of Nina. Half of the nobility of
Italy, she averred, were sighing--or busily doing sums--at the feet of
the American heiress. There was a particularly fascinating Sansevero--he
was not called Sansevero, but di Valdo (curious custom of having half a
dozen names for one person!), who, it was rumored, was simply mad about
Nina! People said she was going to marry him--either him or Duke
something. And there were crowds of others. That was one of her suitors
now--she pointed out Tornik, who was taking tea with a group from the
Austrian Embassy. He was most attractive, didn't John think so? In
Nina's place, she would have her head turned!
This idea seemed to be a new one to Derby. "Should you?" The question
was asked so reflectively that Mrs. Davis almost stopped to think; but
the habit of prattling carried her on.
"To have men like that sighing for one--I should call it thrilling, to
say the least."
Derby's look questioned. "I wonder why the Europeans make such a hit
with you women," he said. "Why, for instance, do you find that man over
there attractive? What do you like about him?"
"Seriously?" Mrs. Davis patted her hair up the back with a little
smoothing movement of satisfaction. "I don't know how to put it--it is
very indefinable; but a man like that has a quality--a polish, I
suppose it is, really--that is quite irresistible."
Derby looked rather disgusted. "And you think that is why Nina likes
them?"
"Oh, there are other reasons--lots of them. In the first place, Nina has
a bad case of '_allure de noblesse_.' In her case I don't wonder! You
can't imagine anything so heavenly as her aunt's palace; it is every bit
as fine as any of the galleries or museums."
As though this remark added a new link to a chain of old impressions,
Derby found himself asking: "By the way--they have a famous picture
gallery out in the country somewhere, haven't they?"
Mrs. Davis turned for information to Prince Minotti, sitting next to
her; who, as he was not especially welcomed by the Romans, much affected
the society of Americans, since to them, as a rule, a prince is a
prince, and the name that follows of comparative unimportance.
"Torre Sansevero," he said pompously, "is one of the finest estates we
have in Italy. In fact, the gardens are hardly less celebrated than
those of the Villa d'Este, and there are a few excellent paintings. Do
you ask for any special reason?"
"No," replied Derby casually. "I heard they had a Raphael that was
especially beautiful; I should like to see it--that is all."
"Do you, by chance, know the Princess Sansevero's niece, from America,
who is captivating Rome this winter?"
"Miss Randolph? Yes."
"Ah, then it will be easy for you to get permission to see the painting.
The gallery is not open to the public, though Cook's, I believe, send a
party out once a week, to see the gardens."
To Derby the suspicion at once became a certainty that, in overhearing
the talk between the Cook's guide and the official, he had by accident
stumbled upon something of serious importance to the Sanseveros. He was
puzzling over it when, in the smoking-room, a few moments later, he
encountered Eliot Porter, an American writer who was making a study of
Roman life. At sight of Derby he called out heartily, "Hello, Jack, when
did you come over?"
Derby drew up a chair beside him, and briefly sketched the object of his
visit.
"Negotiating with Scorpa, I suppose?" asked Porter.
"The Sulphur King?" Derby shook his head. "No, I don't think I shall
need him. I have my hands on a property that promises to be what I am
looking for. The duke wants to work his mines himself and in his own
way. I am merely trying a scheme; if it turns out well, good! If not, I
shall have tested it."
"When do you begin operations? I suppose you realize, my friend, that it
is no joke to interfere with the Sicilians? They are as suspicious of a
new face as a tribe of savages. Savages is just about what they are,
too! And there is another element that you should not lose sight of: If
you are going to upset Scorpa's methods, it is not the Sicilians alone
that you will have to deal with, but also the duke himself."
"I am not going to try his property."
"No, but he controls the sulphur output. If you come into his
market--well, I'd not give a _soldo_ for your skin. Besides, that would
be the second grudge he'd have against you!"
"Second? I don't understand----"
"He wants to marry your best girl! Oh, hold on--no offense meant. She is
having a splendid time of it, if a string of satellites as long as the
Ponte San Angelo constitutes a woman's joy. All the same, my boy; put
this in your pipe and smoke it: 'Ware Scorpa, don't turn your back to
any one who might be in his employ, and bolt your door at night. Will
you have my Winchester?"
Derby smoked on, unperturbed. "It sounds as though it might be
interesting. I had expected a mere proposition of machinery; the human
element always adds. Wasn't it you who told me that?"
"In a book, decidedly!" and then with a sudden impulse, "By Jove, Jack,
I believe it would be a good thing for me to go along with you! I might
get new copy."
Derby laughed incredulously. "Well, if you mean it, come along! I wish
you would." Porter meant it enough to be interested in the project, at
any rate, for later the two men dined together, and they discussed
arrangements and expedients all the evening.
Derby went to the Palazzo Sansevero the next day, but again he had much
to talk over with the prince, and saw little of Nina. In some
unaccountable way she seemed changed; nothing definite happened to mark
the difference that he vaguely felt, but Mrs. Davis's remark came back
to him--"The Europeans are so finished," and he wondered whether Nina
found him unfinished; he even wondered whether he was or not--which was
a good deal of wondering for him.
At first, Sansevero's investment in the "Little Devil" had seemed to
Derby merely the unfortunate venture the prince thought it, but when, in
the course of their talk, it came out that Scorpa was the "friend" who
had sold him the mine, Derby was sure that the duke had deliberately
saddled him with a property which he knew to be useless. And yet every
word that Scorpa had urged as a reason for the mine's value, was--taken
literally--true. The mine was in close proximity to his own; the
surveys, furthermore, showed the "Little Devil" to be the richest in
sulphur deposit of any in the region. But if the mine was as valuable as
Scorpa declared, it was scarcely compatible with all that was known of
his character that out of purely disinterested friendship, he should put
such a prize in Sansevero's hands, while he bought up for himself less
valuable mines at higher prices. Derby kept his opinions to himself;
but his blood boiled with indignation and, mentally, he resolved to beat
Scorpa if it was humanly possible.
As Derby was leaving, Nina deliberately went from the room with him. "I
want to speak with John a few minutes," she said to her aunt. "We are
both Americans, you know," she added, laughing. In the adjoining room
she motioned him to sit beside her, but he stood instead, leaning
against the window frame. She looked up with something like apology. "Am
I keeping you?" she asked quickly. "Are you in a hurry?"
Almost with the manner of Mr. Randolph, he pulled out his watch. "Not
especially. I have an appointment with the Duke Scorpa--but not for half
an hour." She had not noticed before the nervously hurried manner of her
countrymen. There were many things she wanted to talk to John about--but
she might as well have tried to carry on a restful conversation at a
railroad station, when the train was coming in.
"With Scorpa?" She tried to hold his attention. "What are you going to
see _him_ about?"
Derby seemed preoccupied.
"I don't think I'm very sure myself--further than that he wants to buy
my patents, which I have no intention of selling, and I want to rent his
mines, which he has no intention of renting. Rather asinine, going to
see him! Still, as he insists----" There was an eagerness in Derby's
face inconsistent with the shrugging of his shoulders.
But Nina's thoughts were not on the processes of mining just then,
though they were on Scorpa. She looked at Derby appealingly.
"Jack!"
"Yes, Nina?"
"Do you know what I think?--Aunt Eleanor won't say a word; she hides it
all she can, but she must have lost almost her entire fortune. Jack, do
you think that Duke Scorpa could be at the bottom of it?"
Derby gave her a glance of keen interest, but he expressed no surprise
and asked her no questions. As a matter of fact, the gossip of the
Cook's guide had partly prepared him for Nina's revelation about her
aunt's fortune, and he had his own theories about Scorpa. "Quite
likely," he answered dryly, "but it is also quite likely that we shall
get the better of him----" Then, with a sudden change in his manner he
looked at her steadily. "But perhaps you don't want us to get the better
of him?"
"Do you mean----?"
"I hear he is very devoted--and he has not only the handle to his name
that you women seem to be keen about, but he is too rich to be after
your money." Derby had no sooner said the words than he regretted them.
But seeing Nina color, he misinterpreted her feelings, and spoke under a
sudden flash of jealousy. "And I suppose the title of duchess is
irresistible."
Nina was deeply hurt. "That is pretty blunt," she said, the pupils of
her eyes contracted as though the sun blinded them. "Have you ever seen
the man you speak of? No? Well, you would not say such a thing if you
had. I _hate_ him!"
Derby seemed fated to blunder. Again he made the wrong remark. "Hate,
they say, is next to love."
His lack of insight, so palpable in contrast with Giovanni's keenness of
perception, was too much for Nina's new sensitiveness. She suddenly
congealed, and stood up, very straight, with the little upward tilt of
the chin that indicated fast approaching temper.
Derby knew this symptom well enough, but he had not the slightest idea
that his own obtuseness was the cause. Without analyzing, he accepted
her starting up as a signal to leave, and promptly said good-by.
"Good-by, then!" Nina said frigidly; and, turning on her heel, she
abruptly left him.
Under the spur of her anger against him, the words framed themselves in
her mind--"How unfinished he is!" But down in her heart there was an
ache, deeper than could have been caused by mere irritation, or even
disappointment. Never before in her life had there been a breach between
John and her. She felt it was all the fault of his own density--or was
it lack of feeling?
She went to her room to put on her riding habit, for she was going to
the meet. Then, as she dressed, the thought came to her that John, a
foreigner, and the most venturesome person in the world, was going off
to Sicily, into the very center of one of the wildest districts. And
gradually fear for him made her forget her resentment.
Just as she was leaving her room a big cornucopia of roses was brought
in, to which was appended the following note:
"If we weren't such old friends and you didn't
know what a blundering fool I am, I wouldn't dare
to apologize for this morning. Judge me by intent,
though, won't you--and forgive me?
"JACK."
Nina broke off a rose and fastened it to the lapel of her habit; but the
note she tucked in between the buttonholes. Suddenly humming a gay
little song, she ran through the rooms and corridors to join her aunt
and uncle, who were waiting for her to motor out to the hunt, the horses
having been sent ahead with the grooms. As they drove out of the
courtyard she noticed that the sun was brilliantly shining.
At the meet the scene was really animated, for the day was perfect, and
the Via Appia was a bright moving picture of carriages, large and small,
big motors and little runabouts, the road dotted here and there with the
brilliant scarlet coats of those who were to hunt and the bright colors
of women's dresses in the various conveyances.
There was apparently much lack of system: the huntsmen chatted aimlessly
with persons in the carriages; while the hounds scurried around
according to their own inclinations, paying little attention to the snap
of the whip. The Contessa Potensi, who had appeared in a pink hunting
coat, was the cynosure of all eyes. The innovation created quite a stir
and no little admiration. She bowed to Nina with unusual civility, and
made a formal acknowledgment of the pleasure of riding with her. Yet
shortly after, when she joined a group of friends a distance farther on,
she was laughing and glancing back as she spoke, in a way that left
little doubt that she was making disparaging remarks.
Sansevero and Giovanni had mounted their hunters, and now joined Nina,
but that gave her little pleasure, for the contessa immediately
returned. Nina was glad when Donna Francesca Dobini and the young Prince
Allegro cantered up. Donna Francesca was soon talking with Sansevero,
leaving Nina to Allegro--an attractive youth, but light as a bit of
fluff.
As for Giovanni, she felt that he was as unstable as the dead leaves
which the wind at that moment was blowing around and around. They were
graceful, too, those leaves, and Giovanni was fascinating, agile,
charming--but in case one counted upon him seriously, where would he be?
Smiling sweetly, no doubt, at some other woman, and telling her that
her eyes were twin lakes of heaven's blue, or forest pools in which his
heart was lost forever.
The contrasting image of John Derby came sharply to mind. John was going
to Sicily to do a man's work in a man's way. A little later she noticed
Tornik, who was cantering ahead of her: his figure was not unlike
John's--he was strong and masculine. She wondered aimlessly if they
might be in any other way alike. Supposing, in some unaccountable
situation she were to be thrown upon his chivalry for protection, what
would he do? Shrug his shoulders and look bored? Or detail a company
from his regiment to stand guard over her? The idea made her laugh.
"You are gay this morning," observed Giovanni, light-heartedly joining
in her laughter.
With a quizzical little expression Nina looked at him--"I wonder if you
would be amused if you knew why I laughed."
[Illustration: "NINA LOOKED AT HIM--'I WONDER IF YOU WOULD BE AMUSED IF
YOU KNEW WHY I LAUGHED'"]
"If it gives you pleasure--it is delicious, whatever it is!"
All the softness went out of the girl's brown eyes; they glittered
curiously. "Yes," she said, "that is just what I thought." After which
ambiguous remark she returned to her former gayety--"Come," she said,
"let's go fast; we shall be the last!" Urging her horse, she galloped
across the fields.
She would have been at a loss to understand her own vacillations of mood
that day: she seemed to feel an unaccountable revulsion against every
one. The gesticulations of the men around her, their airs and
blandishments, annoyed her. Not an hour earlier she had found John dull
and flat by comparison with Europeans. Now suddenly they were effeminate
dandies, and John alone was a real man.
But the exhilaration of jumping brought her to a more equable frame of
mind, and at the first check she and the Prince Allegro were in the
lead. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes bright from the long gallop.
They had stopped on a knoll out on the Campagna, and Nina remained apart
from the other hunters, walking her horse slowly, while Allegro went
over to the carriage to get a handkerchief for her from the Princess
Sansevero. She drew in deep breaths of the fresh air, as she gazed out
over the rolling hills to the snowclad tops of the Albanian mountains
glistening in the sunshine.
Then suddenly a deep, oily voice jarred through her wandering thoughts.
"You are very pensive!" exclaimed the Duke Scorpa, appearing beside her.
Nina started violently, for, besides his unexpected appearance, there
was something in this man's personality that always sent a shudder
through her.
"The Marchese di Valdo has been telling me that I am very gay," she
answered, not so much to give the duke the information as to contradict
him.
"Then I am doubly sad, since you are gay with others, and absent-minded
when I come." A lurking familiarity in his smile made Nina wince. He
ranged his horse so close that his boots brushed against hers, and she
pulled aside quickly; he did not move close again, but he checked her
attempt to pass him, keeping between her and the other riders.
"Why are you so cruel?" he murmured. "Diana never had so many votaries
as Venus."
"I am not interested in mythology," said Nina, her heart fluttering with
fright. "Please allow me to pass--I want to join my uncle."
"Sweet, pale little Diana,"--he leaned over in his saddle and purred the
words at her--"where mythology failed was in not marrying Diana to Mars.
Exactly as--you are going to marry me!"
"I will not! I told you before I would not! Let me pass!" She pulled the
reins so taut that her horse reared as she urged him forward, but again
the duke ranged his horse close beside her, heading off her attempt to
get past.
"A woman's 'won't' as often means she will," he answered deliberately.
"It is when she says she is not certain that her irrevocable decision is
made."
"I hate you, I utterly hate you!" cried Nina, her anger getting the
better of her fear.
The duke laughed maliciously. "I had scarcely hoped to make so deep a
mark on your emotions! If you hate me, then truly you will marry
me!--against your will, if need be," he added, reining back his horse at
last. "I will wait to make you love me afterward."
At this point Allegro returned with the handkerchief, and the duke let
Nina pass. Tornik, also, now joined her, the master of the hounds gave
the signal, and again the riders were off. Nina, between Tornik and
Allegro, was protected from the duke's approach, but she kept
apprehensively glancing back. She looked about for her uncle, but could
not see him.
As a matter of fact, Sansevero's horse had strained itself slightly in
one of the jumps, and he had thought it best to drop out of the hunt. He
had gone only a short distance on his way toward Rome when he was joined
by Scorpa, who said that he did not care to ride farther but would go
back with Sansevero. The prince was glad of his company until Scorpa
began:
"You have not yet given me a favorable answer to my proposal for Miss
Randolph's hand."
The abruptness with which the subject was introduced irritated
Sansevero, and he answered sulkily: "I told you, when you first spoke to
me, that it was a matter Miss Randolph would have to decide for herself.
An American girl never allows other people to arrange her marriage for
her, and I found my niece not at all disposed to reconsider her answer."
An ugly light shone in the duke's eyes. "I do not want to seem
importunate," he said, "but--I would do very much for the man who
furthered my marriage with Miss Randolph, and you would find the
alliance of our families of great advantage. I am a hot-blooded fellow,
but I'm not such a bad lot. I cannot help being wounded, though, by your
niece's indifference, and in jealousy of a rival I might do things that
otherwise would not enter my head. This is--eh--not a threat--but it is
a family trait--the Scorpas stop at nothing once their hearts are
aflame! Think it over, my friend, before you decide not to help me."
He sighed deeply and then, as though turning his attention to the first
trivial thought that came to mind, he said casually: "By the way, I have
been reading lately an extremely interesting book on celebrated criminal
cases, and I was particularly impressed by the way in which
circumstantial evidence can be built up out of harmless trifles. Since
reading it I have been rather amusing myself by constructing
hypothetical cases. For instance"--Scorpa pursed his lips and lowered
his eyes, as though trying to invent a fanciful story--"take a
transaction such as your letting me have that picture. One could build a
very stirring case upon that!"
"Yes?" encouraged the prince. "How do you mean?"
"Well, to begin, we would send word to the government that your Raphael
Madonna had been sold out of the country."
"I don't think that a good beginning, because it is easy enough to prove
it is in your palace."
"Ah, of course. But for the amusement of the argument we will say that I
_want_ to do you an injury and so smuggle it out of the country! Then
when I am questioned, I deny all knowledge of it. Yes, I would have you
there! It would be quite feasible, because no one saw the picture change
hands, and your notes to me--the only proof of the transfer--could
easily be destroyed. You see? This really grows interesting! Then comes
all the cumulative evidence of the type I was speaking about; for
instance: After the supposed sale of the picture, you indulge in
unwonted expenditures--of course, it is easy to say that they are those
of the American heiress stopping with you"--he paused, in apparent
thoughtfulness--"but when, in addition, an enemy buys in Paris a pair of
earrings, matchless emeralds, that are recognized as having been
worn----"
"_Dio mio!_ My wife's emeralds!" Sansevero was startled into exclaiming.
Then suddenly he blazed out: "What do you mean by your story? If you
have anything to say, say it so I can follow you."
From the gross lips of the duke his apology fell like drops of thickest
oil: "I regret you take my pleasantry so ill, and I ask your pardon as
many times as you require, my friend! It happened by chance that I saw a
pair of emeralds in Paris that were duplicates of the magnificent gems I
have often admired when the princess wore them, and the jeweler told me
that they had been sold at a sacrifice by a noble lady in urgent need of
money. The curious coincidence came to my mind in illustration of the
problems I was talking of. Further than that I meant nothing--except
that I was serious in what I said about repaying the man who should
bring about my marriage."
They had long since passed through the Porta San Giovanni and had
arrived at the Coliseum. Scorpa gave Sansevero little chance to answer,
but with a friendly good-by, he turned toward the Monte Quirinal.
Sansevero pursued his way along the foot of the Palatine. He was
disturbed; but he could not bring himself to read into the duke's words
a covert threat. His first impulse was to repeat the conversation to
Eleanor, but he knew how the mere suspicion that Scorpa had detected her
false stones had worried her. Curiously enough, in Sansevero's mind the
larger issue of the picture was quite overlooked in the more immediate
consideration of the jewels. By the time he reached home he had decided
to wait until further events should show Scorpa's intentions. And until
then he would say nothing to any one--least of all to Eleanor.
In the meantime Nina was galloping across the Campagna. For a while the
fear of Scorpa remained, but when she realized that he was no longer
with the hunt, she breathed more freely, and again began to enjoy the
day. It was almost as though she were riding through the country at
home. She might have been hunting in Westchester, or on Long Island,
for any actual difference that there was, and the finish, as at home,
was merely anise seed, and the hounds were fed raw meat.