He was a dark, good-looking man, now thirty-five. Until two years earlier he had lived mainly abroad, and at times travelled with so many servants that on one occasion he had been taken for the young Emperor of Austria. He was a passionate collector of all things rare or beautiful, and also an omnivorous reader. Having purchased Gibbon's library he had shut himself up at Lausanne for the best part of a year in order that he might read the whole of it. Such prolonged withdrawals from society had given him the reputation of a misanthrope, but the fact was that with such great wealth he needed nobody's patronage, so had the sense to do as he liked; and he was exceedingly particular in the choice of his friends.
His splendid country home, Fonthill, was no great distance from Normanrood, the seat of Droopy Ned's father, and one chance meeting between these two eccentrics had disclosed that they had many interests in common, including a hatred of all blood sports. Largely on that account, Beckford rarely visited at country houses, but Droopy had brought him down to Stillwaters to see Georgina's paintings; for since being widowed she had again taken up her hobby, and during the past year had produced several canvasses which were decidedly original in construction and colouring.
One of Beckford's characteristics was an intense impatience to press on with any matter that happened to be occupying his mind; so, as he seated himself at the table, he said to Colonel Thursby, 'Can you inform me, Sir, when the rest of the party will be down?'
'I cannot speak for Signor Malderini,' replied the Colonel, 'but few foreigners are hearty trenchermen in the morning, so 'tis probable that he'll take a continental breakfast in his room. As for Dick Sheridan, he may send for a draught of ale or a decanter of Madeira, but he never joins the company before midday.'
' Twas of the ladies I was thinking, Sir; for now we have the morning light, I'm all eagerness to see Lady St. Ermins's paintings.'
The Colonel smiled. 'My daughter. Sir, is apt to take an unconscionable time with her toilette, so I much doubt if we can count on seeing her, either, until the morning is well advanced.
Having piled a plate high with kedgeree and poured himself a glass of claret, Droopy looked across at Roger, gave him a mischievous grin, then said to Beckford, 'Mr. Brook has been staying here for some while, and when he does so Lady St. Ermins always shares her studio with him. Until her Ladyship appears he would, I am sure, be delighted to give us his views on art and a sight of his latest masterpiece.'
'Fie, Ned! Shame on you!' Roger exclaimed. 'You know well enough…'
'So, Mr. Brook, you too are a painter!' Beckford cut in with quick interest.'.
'Nay; I'm nought but the veriest tyro. Sir. And then only for brief intervals between long periods when other matters leave me no leisure to ruin canvas.'
'Such modesty becomes you, Sir; but I'd wager that you are belittling your talents.'
'It is the truth,' Roger assured him. 'Even had I, like Lady St. Ermins, had the advantage of studying under Mr. Gainsborough and Sir Joshua Reynolds, I could never have entered her class.'
Beckford raised his straight dark eyebrows. 'I find it surprising that those rival masters should have been willing to give instruction to the same pupil.'
'In this instance, their rivalry was over who could do the most for her,' Roger laughed. 'I'd not impugn their honour by suggesting that it was a case of Susanna and the Elders; but it was not unnatural that two old gentlemen who had long since won wealth and fame should both find a new interest in parting their knowledge to such a lovely and talented young woman.'
'Of your own painting, though,' the Colonel remarked, 'you have no reason to be ashamed. I thought the portrait you have done from memory of Queen Marie Antoinette, as she was while still living at Versailles, an excellent likeness.'
With eager interest Beckford again looked across at Roger. 'You knew that lovely but ill-fated Queen, then?'
'I did, Sir. Her Majesty honoured me with her friendship, and I saw her with some frequency both before and after she was imprisoned.'
I, too, continued to visit Paris up till '93, and I was present at both the taking of the Bastille and the execution of King Louis.'
This exchange led to their swapping memories of the Revolution during the remainder of the meal. Then, when all four men had dealt fairly with the selection of chops and kidneys, eggs and sausages, York ham, steak pie and galantines, Colonel Thursby said:
'As Georgina will not be down yet awhile, I suggest we should take a look at Roger's picture, then go round those in the house.'
There was a murmur of assent. Picking up his ebony cane, he led the way, limping a little, to the Studio. There the portrait was duly praised, then they began a tour of the Van Dykes, Lelys and Knellers; but Roger slipped away, intending to go to the nurseries.
As he walked through the long corridors his thoughts turned to Clarissa Marsham. She was a cousin of his late wife,
Amanda, and an orphan without fortune. Until a little less than two years earlier, she had lived with an elderly, impecunious and sanctimonious aunt, from which sad fate Amanda had rescued her, and taken her with them as an unofficial lady-in-waiting when he had gone out to the West Indies as Governor-designate of Martinique.
From a gawky girl with a thin face, beaky nose and mass of ill-dressed pale gold hair, he had seen her develop into a young woman of sylph-like figure and ravishing beauty. On two occasions she had declared her love for him in no uncertain terms. He had tried to persuade himself that hers was an adolescent passion, and that she would soon get over it; so he had done his utmost to discourage her hoping that she would turn to one of the numerous suitors who were eager for her hand.’ But deep down he had known that she would not do so.
Now that she had returned to England something had to be settled about her future. So far he had managed to avoid discussing it with her, and he was most loath to do so because he found her so bewitching that he feared he might weaken in his determination to keep his freedom.
He was still pondering the worrying problem she presented when he entered the main hall and went up the stairs.
On reaching the landing he saw Signor Malderini and his beautiful Indian wife coming towards him. Instantly he dismissed Clarissa from his mind and decided to postpone his morning call on the children. With Sheridan out of the way for another hour at least, this was too good an opportunity to be missed of sounding the Venetian about his opinions.
? Having made a graceful leg to the Princess, he enquired of her husband how they had slept and if all their wants had been attended to. Then he said that, as a guest of long standing in the house, they must allow him temporarily to play host and show them something of its beauties.
? Malderini thanked him for his courtesy and the three of them descended the great marble staircase together; instead of taking them into any of the rooms, where they m shortly have run into the other party, Roger led them between the tall pillars of the Palladian portico and down its steps onto the long terrace. The stone vases along it were gay with flowers and below the balustrade the well-tended lawns sloped gently away to a broad lake, from the far shore of which rose woods of silver birch and pine. In the sunshine of the June morning it was as lovely a prospect as could have been found in England.
The vases were filled with many-hued Phlox Drummondi and, pointing at the nearest, Malderini made some remark to his wife in her own language. She returned a low-voiced reply, then he said to Roger, 'The Princess Sirisha has a great fondness for flowers. Her name, you know, is that of a particularly beautiful flower that grows in her native country.'
'Indeed,' replied Roger. 'Then let us go to the rose garden and the herbaceous borders. We'll visit the hot-houses too. They contain many tropical plants and the Princess may find there several with which she is familiar.'
As they strolled through the gardens to the west of the house, pausing now and then to admire a vista between box hedges, a fountain, a lead figure, or some specially lovely’ bed of flowers, Roger ma
de no attempt to turn the conversation to the state of things in Italy. After a quarter of an hour it struck him that he might be shirking the job because it meant working against his own convictions, but he quickly reassured himself, as it was obviously sounder policy to endeavour first to get on terms with the Venetian. That would not be easy, for his heavy features held no trace of bonhomie, and his curious mind-probing eyes no hint of desire to make himself liked. Even so, given a little time, there was every reason to suppose that in the course of conversation he would make some remark about the war, and so provide a natural opening, it was, after all, only Saturday morning, and that strengthened Roger's feeling that there was no hurry yet to grasp the ugly nettle.
They spent a further twenty minutes in a leisurely progress round the glasshouses. Malderini proved very knowledgeable about plants and his conversation with Roger disclosed a quick, well-ordered mind-another depressing indication that, when they did get to business, he would prove a hard nut to crack. To his wife he scarcely said a word and she never spoke unless first addressed by him. Roger felt deeply sorry for her but could do no more than give her an occasional friendly smile. More and more he wished the weekend over and that, having done his best for Mr. Pitt, he would never be called on to set eyes on Rinaldo Malderini again.
It was shortly after they had entered the orchid house that they caught sight of one of Georgina's footmen, and another man, hurrying towards them. The footman pointed Roger out, then the other, who wore a plain riding livery, came through the glass door, removed his hat and, taking a letter from a leather pouch at his waist, handed it to Roger. A glance at" the seal showed him that it was from the Prime Minister. With a word of apology to his companions, he tore it open and ran his eye over the single paragraph. It read:
If you have not yet opened the business with Signor R.,M. refrain from doing so. I have just learnt that, contrary to my expectations, after spending three weeks as a private person in the other camp, he accompanied his ambassador to the Foreign Office on Friday morning and presented credentials as a Plenipotentiary Extraordinary. Now that my cousin, Grenville, is in a position to put our cards on the table openly, I shall have no further need of you as intermediary. W.P.
Malderini coughed and remarked politely, 1 trust that this. urgent message does not contain bad news.'
'The very contrary,' Roger laughed. 'For a friend I had undertaken a most uncongenial task, and one which I was convinced would cost him a lot of money to no good purpose. He writes me now that he relieves me of it; so I could not be more delighted.'
Thrusting the letter into his pocket, he gave expression to his, pleasure by dismissing the messenger with a guinea, then cutting some of Georgina's choicest orchids and, with a bow, laying them in the slim brown hands of the Princess.
But he was wrong in his belief that now he would never have cause to remember the ugly Venetian and the beautiful Indian except as the most casual acquaintances, and that he would not be called on to play any further part in the affairs of Venice. Fate, in the person of Mr. Pitt, had woven the first tenuous thread that had brought the three of them together. It was soon to coil and strengthen into a terrible bond that would alter the whole course of their lives, and a time was to come when Roger would hold the fate of the thousand-years-old Serene Republic in the hollow of his hand.
Chapter 3
A Very Strange Performance
That afternoon Georgina took her guests into Guildford. The drive through the well-wooded countryside made a pleasant excursion, and it had occurred to her that with such difficult guests as the Malderinis a visit to Guildford caves would serve to while away an hour or so. The caves were a natural formation but had been occupied by primitive man from great antiquity.
Provided with a candle apiece and led by a guide, they traversed the narrow tunnels and halted in the larger chambers, a little awed by the weird effects of their shadows on the rough hewn walls and ceilings. When they were assembled in the largest cave there came a sudden sharp cry. It was uttered by Sheridan's wife as her husband, bored with the caves, had decided to lighten the solemnity which had descended on the party by pinching her bottom.
The dim light hid her blushes, but much embarrassed she stammered out, '1… I thought I felt a ghostly hand touch my cheek.'
Malderini. who was standing near her, shook his head and, speaking in French as usual, declared in his rather high-pitched voice, 'Maybe it was so, Madame. If you are psychic you may well have felt the touch of the long-dead in such a place as this. Yours was not the only cry that I have heard these past few minutes. The despairing screams of virgins being dragged to the sacrifice still echo round the walls. I have but to look at yonder archway to see the bearded priests with their long knives and the terror on the faces of their victims.'
'I take it, Sir, that you are drawing on your imagination to supplement your theories as an antiquary about what may have taken place here,' remarked Colonel Thursby, dryly.
Malderini turned sharply upon him, 'Not at all! Not at all! Certain people have the power to see beyond the veil, and I am one of them. Given propitious circumstances I can both look back into the past and foresee the future,'
Georgina, on her mother's side, had gipsy blood, and had inherited the gift of telling fortunes. She said to the Venetian: I, too, have often secured accurate glimpses of the future, but seen outside their context such glimpses can, at times, be pestiferously misleading.'
'More frequent practice should enable your Ladyship to assess their meaning with greater accuracy. What vehicle do you use to make contact with the unseen powers?'
'I used to gaze into a goblet filled with pure spring, water; but, some years ago, I suffered an experience with regard to my own future which was so unnerving that I decided to abandon such seeking after hidden knowledge.'
'Few decisions could be harder to justify, Malderini replied somewhat rudely. 'Psychic gifts are; rare and should be cherished by those who have them, You should renew your contact with the spirit-world and would be well advised to do so through a human medium. I studied in Paris under the famous Doctor Mesmer and learned from him how to turn the minds of others into far more potent vehicles than crystals, cards and such impedimenta. It is a fundamental of the Secret Art that all occult operations require the exertion of will, and you would find your powers greatly increased if you brought under your control the subconscious mind of some lesser personality.'
'You speak as though you would have us believe you to be a magician,' Sheridan said in a slightly mocking tone.
'If, my friend, by that designation you imply a person who by will-power can cause phenomena to occur which are ordinarily regarded as impossible, then I may certainly claim to be one.'
'My daughter has compelled me to recognise that some people are gifted with second sight,' the Colonel remarked, 'but I still cannot believe it possible to bring about material happenings solely through the exercise of will, even if given the help of the Devil.'
'Then, Sir, it is high time that someone showed you to be in error,' the Venetian retorted, 'and if you wish, on our return to Stillwaters, I will prove my point by a demonstration.'
'You shall, Sir, by all means,' replied the Colonel quickly, 'I have ever taken the greatest interest in all forms of science, and surely the moving of mountains, or even of molehills, without the application of physical force, must be counted a scientific triumph.'
No more was said on the subject at the time, but they had hardly descended from the carriages before Beckford raised it again by saying, 'I can hardly contain my impatience to witness the demonstration that Signor Malderini has promised us. When and where is it to take place?'
'Without preparations of an involved nature, and an opportunity to refresh my memory on certain rituals, it can be no more than a simple one,' replied the Venetian, 'but that I will give you whenever and wherever you wish.'
.Georgina was loath to pursue the matter. She had an uneasy feeling that no g
ood would come of it; but, in view of Beckford's eagerness and that others in the party were backing him up, she had little option; so she said, 'Now that we are returned, a syllabub will shortly be served in the Orangery for our refreshment. Let us go there and drink it while Signor Malderini performs his promised marvels.'
In the lofty Orangery a semi-circle of basket chairs was set among the brass-bound tubs in which grew the bushes with their small, unripe, but decorative fruit. Malderini asked for some slips of paper to be brought, then, as they sipped from their cups of well-iced wine beaten up with thick cream, he said:
'Four or five of you will oblige me by writing questions on these pieces of paper. They must be questions the answers to which might reasonably be supposed to come within my knowledge. I shall then mesmerise the Princess Sirisha and, when her mind has become completely under my control, put your questions to her. As you are aware, in her normal state she has the unhappiness to be deprived of the pleasure of conversing with you because she can speak no tongue other than her own. But, while she is in a state of trance, I shall imbue her with powers which she does not ordinarily possess. Having written your questions add to them the word French, English, Italian or German, and she will give you the answer in which ever language you have selected.'
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