Part 5 (1/2)

The other day, when he and love were tugging at me, I told him I would marry him if he brought me the turquoise cup. It was an idle thing to say, but what I say I stand by. I shall never marry him unless he brings it to me. You know us Irish women. We have our hearts to contend with, but we keep our word. I set my lord a trivial task. If he really wants me he will accomplish it. I am not dear at the price.”

”With true love,” said the cardinal, ”I do not think there is any question of price. It is an absolute surrender, without terms. I say this guardedly, for I am no expert as to this thing called human love. I recognize that it is the power that moves the world, but, for more than fifty years, I have tried to forget the world.”

”Yes,” cried Lady Nora, ”and, but for a cruel mistake, you would have married my grandmother.”

”Yes,” said the cardinal, ”but for a cruel mistake.”

”The mistake was hers,” exclaimed Lady Nora.

The cardinal threw up his hands. ”It was a mistake,” he said, ”and it was buried fifty years ago. Why dig it up?”

”Forgive me,” said Lady Nora, and she started toward the hatch.

”My child,” said the cardinal, ”you say that you will not marry his lords.h.i.+p unless he brings you the cup. Do you hope that he will bring it?”

She looked at him a moment, the red and white roses warring in her cheeks. ”Yes,” she said, ”I hope it, for I love him,” and she put her hands to her face and ran below.

”If the earl is the man I take him to be,” said the cardinal to himself, ”I fear that I am about to shut my eyes to a felony,” and he pressed the electric b.u.t.ton at his side. The head steward appeared so quickly that he overheard the cardinal say--”I certainly should have done it, at his age.”

V

At six bells there was a tap on the cardinal's door.

”Come in,” he said.

The head steward entered. He had exchanged the white duck of the afternoon for the black of evening. He was now the major-domo. He wore silk stockings and about his neck was a silver chain, and at the end of the chain hung a key.

”Your eminence's servant has come on board,” he said.

”Pietro?” asked the cardinal.

”I do not know his name,” said the steward, ”but he is most anxious to see your eminence.”

”Let him come in at once,” said the cardinal. The steward backed out, bowing.

There was a loud knock upon the door. ”Enter,” said the cardinal. Pietro came in. He carried a portmanteau.

”What is it?” exclaimed the cardinal. ”Is any one dying? Am I needed?”

”No, your eminence,” said Pietro, ”the public health is unusually good.

I have come to dress you for dinner with the English.”

”They are not English,” said the cardinal; ”they are Irish.”

”In that event,” said Pietro, ”you will do as you are.”

”No,” laughed the cardinal, ”since you have brought my finery I will put it on.”