Part 25 (2/2)
”Exactly. You speak English as naturally and fluently as if you were born to the tongue. Thus, you will leave for Milan. What becomes of you after that is of no consequence to me. Am I making myself clear?”
”_Verdampt!_ Do I believe my ears?” furiously. ”Are you telling me to leave Bellaggio to-morrow morning?”
”As directly as I can.”
Herr Rosen's face became as red as his name. He was a brave young man, but there was danger of an active kind in the blue eyes boring into his own.
If it came to a physical contest, he realized that he would get the worst of it. He put his hand to his throat; his very impotence was choking him.
”Your Highness....”
”Highness!” Herr Rosen stepped back.
”Yes. Your Highness will readily see the wisdom of my concern for your hasty departure when I add that I know all about the little house in Versailles, that my knowledge is shared by the chief of the Parisian police and the minister of war. If you annoy Miss Harrigan with your equivocal attentions....”
”_Gott!_ This is too much!”
”Wait! I am stronger than you are. Do not make me force you to hear me to the end. You have gone about this intrigue like a blackguard, and that I know your Highness not to be. The matter is, you are young, you have always had your way, you have not learnt restraint. Your presence here is an insult to Miss Harrigan, and if she was pleasant to you this afternoon it was for my benefit. If you do not go, I shall expose you.” Courtlandt opened the gate.
”And if I refuse?”
”Why, in that case, being the American that I am, without any particular reverence for royalty or n.o.bility, as it is known, I promise to thrash you soundly to-morrow morning at ten o'clock, in the dining-room, in the bureau, the drawing-room, wherever I may happen to find you.”
Courtlandt turned on his heel and hurried back to the villa. He did not look over his shoulder. If he had, he might have felt pity for the young man who leaned heavily against the gate, his burning face pressed upon his rain-soaked sleeve.
When Courtlandt knocked at the door and was admitted, he apologized. ”I came back for my umbrella.”
”Umbrella!” exclaimed the padre. ”Why, we had no umbrellas. We came up in a carriage which is probably waiting for us this very minute by the porter's lodge.”
”Well, I am certainly absent-minded!”
”Absent-minded!” scoffed Abbott. ”You never forgot anything in all your life, unless it was to go to bed. You wanted an excuse to come back.”
”Any excuse would be a good one in that case. I think we'd better be going, Padre. And by the way, Herr Rosen begged me to present his regrets.
He is leaving Bellaggio in the morning.”
Nora turned her face once more to the window.
CHAPTER XVI
THE APPLE OF DISCORD
”It is all very petty, my child,” said the padre. ”Life is made up of bigger things; the little ones should be ignored.”
To which Nora replied: ”To a woman, the little things are everything; they are the daily routine, the expected, the necessary things. What you call the big things in life are accidents. And, oh! I have pride.” She folded her arms across her heaving bosom; for the padre's directness this morning had stirred her deeply.
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