Part 9 (1/2)

”Prince Cagliari is in Rome,” remarked Blanka.

”I know it. I met him, and he spoke to me and thanked me for the attentions I had shown his wife during Holy Week.”

It was fortunate for the princess that she sat in the rosy light of the red umbrella, so that her heightened colour pa.s.sed unnoticed.

”He called on me this morning,” said she, ”and showed himself very gracious. His position is now stronger than it was, affairs at the Vatican being guided at present by those who look upon him with favour.”

”Yes, I know that,” said Mana.s.seh.

”How do you know it, may I ask?”

”Oh, I have wide-reaching connections. My landlord is a cobbler.

'Messere Scalcagnato' lounges about the _piazza_ by the hour, is therefore well instructed in political matters, and keeps me duly informed of all that takes place at the Vatican.”

The princess gave a merry laugh at the thought of Mana.s.seh's taking lessons in politics from the professor of shoemaking. A little feeling of satisfaction contributed also to her display of good humour: she was a.s.sured by Mana.s.seh's words that his address was still the same that she had noted in her sketch-book. But her laugh was immediately followed by a sigh, and she folded her hands in her lap.

”I wage war with n.o.body, Heaven knows!” she exclaimed, sadly. ”I have merely sued for mercy, and it has been promised me.”

”Princess,” interposed the young man, gently, ”I cannot intervene between you and your enemies, but I can arm you with a weapon of defence against their a.s.saults. If you wish to repulse the man whom you fear and who pursues you,--to give him such a rebuff that he will never again dare to approach you,--then wait until he makes the proposal which you dread, and give him this answer: 'Between you and me there is a canonical interdict which renders our union impossible; it is contained in the fourteenth paragraph of the Secret Instructions.' As soon as you say that he will vanish so completely from your presence that you will never set eyes on him again.”

”Wonderful!” cried Blanka. ”That will surely be a miracle.”

”Such it may always remain to you,” returned Mana.s.seh, ”and you may never know how deep a wound you have inflicted. But you must thenceforth look for no mercy. Sue urgently for a decision, and be prepared for a harsh one.”

”Thank you,” said Blanka, simply. ”_N'en parlons plus_”--repeating Prince Cagliari's phrase.

With that she stepped lightly to the stone block which the artist had been using for a chair, and, seating herself on it, began to copy in outline his painting of the Colosseum, as if that had been the sole purpose of her coming. Nor did she so much as ask permission thus to violate the rules of professional courtesy. This sketching from a finished picture she found vastly easier than drawing from the object itself, a task which always proves elusive and baffling to the beginner.

Mana.s.seh took his stand behind her as she worked, but his eyes were not wholly occupied in following her pencil.

Meanwhile the archaeological explorers had abundant time to inspect all the subterranean pa.s.sages and chambers of the Colosseum, and it was only when they emerged into the arena and began to seek their lost companion, with loud outcries, that she started up in some alarm and made haste to retrace her steps.

Mana.s.seh picked up the dandelion chain that had fallen from her neck and put it in his bosom.

CHAPTER X.

THE FOURTEENTH PARAGRAPH.

Blanka was now like a boy who fears to stay at home alone, and to whom his father has therefore given a loaded gun as a security. The lad has a shuddering eagerness to encounter a burglar, that he may try his weapon on him, never doubting but that he can kill a giant if need be. Let the robbers come if they wish; he is armed and ready for them.

In this confidence Blanka's entire mood underwent a change: she became light-hearted almost to the point of unrestrained gaiety. At the very door of her hotel she began to exchange pleasantries with the landlord, who came forward to greet her with the announcement that a gentleman, a count, had called upon her in her absence.

”Count who?” asked the princess, whereupon she was presented with a card bearing the name of Benjamin Vajdar. But she read it without losing a particle of her serenity, and then ordered an elaborate lunch.

While her dishes were preparing, she sent for a hair-dresser and for a maid to a.s.sist at her toilet. She wished to make herself beautiful--even more beautiful than usual--and, indeed, she accomplished her object. Her slender form, its height accentuated by a long bodice, looked still taller from the imposing manner in which her hair was dressed. Her features, until then somewhat drawn by the strain of constant anxiety, gained now a vivacity that was matched by the added colour that glowed in her cheeks. A single morning in the Italian sun had, it would have seemed to an observer, worked wonders in her appearance. But what she herself marvelled at most of all was the new light that shone in her eyes. What could have caused this transformation? The weapon which she held in her hands,--”the fourteenth paragraph of the Secret Instructions.” What cared she that to her these words were utterly meaningless? It sufficed her to know that there was such a paragraph; _he_ had told her so.

A waiter announced that her lunch was served. Ordinarily Blanka ate no more than a sick child; now she was conscious of an appet.i.te like that of a convalescent making up for a long series of lost meals. The dainties which she had ordered tasted uncommonly appetising. While she was busy with her oysters, the head waiter informed her that the ”count”

had come a second time and begged leave to wait upon her.