Part 43 (1/2)

She left his side and went towards the door, her head a little bent. As she laid her hand upon the handle, and looked back at Guido once again, it turned in her fingers and was drawn quickly away from them. She started and turned her head to see who was there.

Lamberti stood before her, and immediately pushed her back into the room and shut the door, visibly disturbed.

”This way!” he said quickly, in an undertone.

He led her swiftly to another door, which he opened for her and closed as soon as she had pa.s.sed.

”Wait for me there!” he said, as she went in.

”What is the matter?” asked Guido rather faintly, when he realised what his friend had done.

”Her mother is in the hall,” Lamberti said. ”Do not be startled, she knows nothing. She insists on seeing for herself how you are. She says her daughter begged her to come.”

”Tell her I am too ill to see her, please, and thank her very much. It is all over, Lamberti, we have parted.”

A dark flush rose in Lamberti's face.

”You must see the Countess,” he said hurriedly. ”I am sorry, but unless she comes here, her daughter cannot get out without being seen. We cannot leave her in your room. I will not do it, for your man may wake up and go there. There is no time to be lost either!”

”Bring the Countess in,” said Guido, with an effort, and moving uneasily on his couch.

He felt that nothing was spared him. In the few seconds that elapsed, he tried to decide what he should say to the Countess, and how he could account for knowing that Cecilia had now definitely broken off the engagement. Before he had come to any conclusion the Countess was ushered in, rosy and smiling, but a little timid at finding herself in a young bachelor's quarters.

Meanwhile, Cecilia was in Guido's bedroom. An older woman might have suspected some ign.o.ble treachery, but her perfect innocence protected her from all fear. Lamberti would not have brought her there in such a hurry unless there had been some absolute necessity for getting her out of sight at once. Undoubtedly some visitor had come who could not be turned away. Perhaps it was the doctor. Moreover, she was too much disturbed by what had taken place to pay much attention to what was, after all, a detail.

She looked about her and saw that there was another door by which Lamberti would presently enter to let her out. There was the great bed with the coverlet of old arras displaying the royal arms, and beside it stood a small table of mahogany inlaid with bra.s.s. It had tall and slender legs that ended below in little bra.s.s lions' paws, and it had a single drawer.

Without hesitation she went and opened it. Lamberti had been right.

There was the revolver, a silver-mounted weapon with an ivory handle, much more for ornament than use, but quite effective enough for the purpose to which Guido might put it. Beside it lay a little pile of notes in their envelopes, and she involuntarily recognised her own handwriting. He had kept all she had written to him within his reach while he had been ill, and the thought pained her. The revolver was a very light one, made with only five chambers. She took it and examined it when she had shut the drawer again, and she saw that it was fully loaded. Old Fortiguerra had taught her to use firearms a little, and she knew how to load and unload them. She slipped the cartridges out quickly and tied them together in her handkerchief, and then dropped them into her parasol and the revolver after them.

She went to the tall mirror in the door of the wardrobe and began to arrange her veil, expecting Lamberti every moment. She had hardly finished when he entered and beckoned to her. She caught up her parasol by the middle so as to hold its contents safely, and in a few seconds she was outside the front door of the apartment. Lamberti drew a breath of relief.

”Take those!” she said quickly, producing the pistol and the cartridges.

”He must not have them.”

Lamberti took the weapon and put it into his pocket, and held the parasol, while she untied the handkerchief and gave him the contents.

Both began to go downstairs.

”I had better tell you who came,” Lamberti said, as they went. ”You will be surprised. It was your mother.”

”My mother!” Cecilia stopped short on the step she had reached. ”I did not think she meant to come!”

She went on, and Lamberti kept by her side.

”You can seem surprised when she tells you,” he said. ”You have definitely broken your engagement, then? Guido had time to tell me so.”

”Yes, I could not lie to him. It was very hard, but I am glad it is all over, though he is very angry now.”

They reached the last landing before the court without meeting any one, and she paused again. He wondered what expression was on her face while she spoke, for he could scarcely see the outline of her features through the veil.