a hostess is alwayscareful to have a sprinkling of the military on account both of thebrilliant uniforms and of the fact that they are all dancing men. "Isuppose, however," he added, bending to her and speaking in a low tonethat could not be overheard, "I suppose that, now you are to marryJules, any question that concerns him is debarred--eh?"
"What do you mean?" she inquired, looking at him quickly with her finedark eyes.
"I mean that I hesitate to put a question to you lest you should beoffended."
"It all depends upon the nature of the question," she answered, as theyturned into a long, dim corridor, where they found themselves alone.
"Well," he said, "as you are aware, I am your father's friend, and havebeen so through many years. Recently there was a--well, a crisis, whichwas averted in a very unexpected and mysterious manner."
"I know," she remarked, turning rather pale. She wore turquoise bluethat night, a beautiful gown of Paquin's which suited her admirably."My father has told me everything. You made every effort to wreck theSocialist conspiracy--and you were fortunately successful. I return youmy very warmest thanks. You saved my father."
"No; you are quite mistaken. I did not. The questions were abandonedfor some mysterious motive which I am still endeavouring to discover.It is in pursuance of my inquiries that I am now approaching you. Doyou follow me?"
"Perfectly."
"As far as I can gather, your father's enemies have only postponed theirblow. It may fall at any time, therefore we must be prepared for it.Montebruno received orders in secret to postpone his attack, and theremust have been a reason for this. Perhaps the time was not yet ripe--perhaps the Socialists feared a retaliation which might crush them. Inany case, we must get at the truth, and thus be forearmed."
"And how can I assist you?" she asked, knowing the bitter truth of herself-sacrifice, but determined to keep her secret to herself.
"By being frank with me."
"Well?"
"You are to marry Jules Dubard?"
"Yes."
"At your father's instigation?"
She was silent, and her cheeks turned slightly paler. Their longacquaintance gave him the right to put such a question to her, yetwithin her heart she resented it. Why should this secret agent, thisman who was an adventurer, although so useful in her father's service,seek to learn the truth?
"My father gave his consent to our marriage," she replied simply.
"I know that. He has already told me so. I speak plainly, and say thatI am desiring to get at the truth."
"The truth of what? I don't understand you."
"The truth regarding certain circumstances which are exceedinglycurious. I have been for three months in active pursuit of knowledge,and in my inquiries have discovered some very strange things. Remember,I am working in the interests of your father, and anything you may sayto me is in strict confidence. We have known each other for a longtime, Miss Mary," he added--"indeed, ever since you wore short frocksand used to flirt with me in the salon at San Donato. Do you recollectit?"
She laughed as a slight blush suffused her cheeks at recollection of hergirlhood days before she went to school at Broadstairs. She recollectedhow in those youthful days she had admired Vito Ricci, the well-dressed,debonair deputy who was her father's closest friend.
"I remember," she admitted, laughing.
"Then let us speak in confidence," he went on, deeply in earnest. "Youwere acquainted with Felice Solaro, captain in the 6th Alpine Regiment,who fell in love with you?"
She nodded, with eyes open in surprise.
"He declared his love, and you refused him. Your father, who suspectedthat the young captain had had the audacity to court you, was furious,and forbade you to receive him. But you saw him in secret one day tobid him farewell as he was ordered to a garrison on the French frontier.Your father being absent, you received him, at his own suggestion, inthe library of the palace in Rome. While you were talking with him youheard some visitors approaching, and you rushed out, locking him in thelibrary, pretending that your father had taken the key. He remainedthere in secret for over two hours, until you could escape from thecallers, release him, and let him out in secret. Is that so?"
She blushed to the roots of her hair at recollection of that youthfulescapade, and admitted that all he had alleged was the truth.
"And that man is now in prison, charged with having sold militarysecrets to France--a copy of a confidential document which was in adrawer in your father's writing-table."
She stood staring at him, utterly speechless.
"But that is not the charge against him," she hastened to declare. "Heis believed to have sold the plans of the Tresenta fortress."
"That is so, but there is also the graver charge--the copying of thatdocument which was in your father's keeping, and one of the most secretand important concerning our army."
"But he is innocent?" she exclaimed. "I know he is innocent, SignorRicci. He is the victim of a woman named Nodari, at Bologna, who gaveperjured evidence against him."
"I know the whole facts. I have read the depositions given at thesecret court-martial, but I have no means of judging whether he isinnocent or guilty. One fact, however, I desire to learn, and it isthis. Has the count ever mentioned to you the captain's name, or has heever admitted acquaintance with him?"
"Never to my knowledge," was her frank answer. "Felice Solaro oncedeclared his love for me, and therefore, in order not to arouse thecount's jealousy, I have never referred to him."
"Naturally. But the fact is all the more curious that the allegation ofSolaro's sale of the copy of the secret document to France--the copy ofthat obtained from your father's writing-table--was actually made by thecount."
"By the count?" she cried. "Then it was actually upon his evidence thatpoor Felice has been degraded and condemned?"
"Exactly. But the motive is utterly incomprehensible, for it wouldreally seem as though the captain was actually guilty of the treasonableoffence."
Mary was silent as they paced down the long, deserted corridor. Then atlast she turned slowly to her companion, and in a strange, hoarse voicesaid--
"Yes, it is incomprehensible why an innocent man should be made tosuffer, unless--unless my father and the count have acted in accord tosecure poor Felice's ruin and disgrace."
"But why?"
No words escaped her. She only shrugged her white shoulders. Yet theman at her side saw in her fine dark eyes the light of unshed tears.But even he did not suspect the truth.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
"WAS SAZARAC YOUR FRIEND?"
It was a bright morning in Rome.
"You will recollect, Miss Mary, that when I congratulated you at Ortonupon your engagement to Dubard, you declared that you had no thought ofany such thing," exclaimed George Macbean, with a smile. "I suppose Imay now be permitted to repeat my congratulations?"
"If you wish," was the girl's mechanical reply. "And I thank you verymuch," she added, her face quite serious.
They were standing together one morning in one of the smallerreception-rooms of her father's palace. He had called on the Ministeron official business, and they had met quite accidentally in the greatmediaeval courtyard, where the plashing of the old marble fountain brokethe quiet, playing on as it had done for nearly four hundred years; thatcourtyard that was so full of stirring memories of the long past ages,and the stones of which had echoed to the tramp of the armed retainersof the great prince whose ancestral home it once was.
Since his arrival in Rome two months ago fortune had certainly smiledupon George Macbean General Borselli had given him a lucrativeappointment in the Ministry at a salary which enabled him to rent acomfortable little bachelor apartment in the Via Sistina. The work wasvery different from the drudgery from Morgan-Mason's correspondence, andhe had quickly found that his position at once gave him the _entree_ tothe official society of the Italian capital. The Under-Secretary waskindness itself, and he soon found that his office wa
s one of thosesinecures with fat emoluments which are found more or less in everyGovernment department.
For three weeks or so after his arrival he had no occasion to meet HisExcellency the Minister, but when he one day entered Morini's privatecabinet, he took the opportunity of thanking him for the appointment.The Minister thereupon, as though suddenly recollecting their previousacquaintanceship, made a number of inquiries as to what office he wasfilling in the Ministry and the nature of his work, the outcome of whichwas that within six weeks of his arrival in the Eternal City he foundhimself appointed private secretary to the Minister himself.
This displeased Borselli, he thought;
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