Part 13 (1/2)
”Faster! Put more fire into it!” cried the dancer. But Blanka could not go on.
”Ah, you don't remember it, after all.”
”I can't play when I look at you,” was the reply; and the Marchioness Caldariva believed her. ”You could drive a man fairly insane.”
”As long as the men will torment us, we must be able to pay them back.”
She took Blanka's arm and returned with her to the other room. ”Woe to him who invades my kingdom!” she continued. ”He is bound to lose his reason. Do you wish to wager that I can't drive all Rome crazy over me?
If I took a notion to dance the 'Gitana' on the opera-house stage for the benefit of the wounded soldiers, all Rome would go wild with enthusiasm, and the people would half smother me with flowers.”
”I will make no such wager with you,” returned Blanka, ”because I know I should lose.”
The beautiful Cyrene changed the subject and invited the princess to attend one of her masked b.a.l.l.s,--”a masquerade party,” she explained, ”of only forty guests at the most, and those the chief personages of Roman society. I ferret out all their secrets and can see through their masks; but I use no witchery about it. My guests are admitted by ticket only, and my major-domo, who receives these cards, writes on the back of each a short description of the bearer's costume. So I have only to go to him and consult his notes to learn my guest's ident.i.ty.”
”But cannot your guests also procure information from the same source--for a consideration?”
”Undoubtedly. My domestics are none of them incorruptible.”
Blanka laughed, and Rozina hastened to take advantage of her good humour.
”And now just imagine among these forty masks one guest who comes neither through the door, nor through the major-domo's anteroom, so that no card, no personal description, no cab-number, no information of any kind, is to be had concerning her from my servants. She is acquainted with all the secrets of those around her, but no one can guess her secret, or fathom her mystery. Meanwhile a young painter has taken his seat in one corner behind a screen of foliage, and sketches the lively scene before him. He is the only one who, with beating heart, guesses the name of the mysterious unknown. What do you say,--will this bewitching guest from fairyland deign to figure as the chief personage on my young artist's canvas?”
”Before deciding, may I see a list of those whom you have invited?”
”Certainly--a very proper request.” The marchioness handed over her fan, the ribs of which were of ivory, and served the owner as tablets. They were covered with a miscellaneous list of well-known names from all cla.s.ses, and the last among them was Mana.s.seh Adorjan's. ”You can order a costume of black lace, spangled with silver stars,” the fair Cyrene went on; ”then, with a black velvet mask, you will be ready to appear as the Queen of Night.”
Blanka offered no objection to this plan.
”I will admit you upon signal, through our secret pa.s.sageway, into my boudoir, and from there you will pa.s.s, when the way is clear, into the ladies' dressing-room, and thence into the ballroom. With this fan of mine in your hand, you will, after some instructions from me, be able to puzzle and mystify all whom you address, while no one will be in a position even to hazard a surmise as to your ident.i.ty. When you tire of the sport, come to me, pretend to tease me, and then turn and run away.
I will give chase, and under cover of this diversion you will slip out of the room, and return to your own apartments by the same way you came, while I continue the hunt and summon all present to aid me in finding my mysterious guest.”
Such was the speaker's influence over Blanka, that the latter could not give her a refusal. Accordingly, when the two parted, it was with the understanding that they were soon to see each other again at the marchioness's masquerade.
CHAPTER XIII.
A SUDDEN FLIGHT.
Blanka sat in her room, with closed doors, preparing her costume for the masked ball. Affairs in the world outside had moved rapidly during the past few days. In the feverish excitement of that revolutionary period, mob violence was threatening to gain the upper hand. Shouts of boisterous merriment reached the princess from the street. From the adjoining wing of the palace, too, other sounds, almost equally boisterous, fell on her ear at intervals. The fair Cyrene was entertaining a company of congenial spirits.
Gradually the noise in the street grew louder, until it seemed as if a cage of wild animals had been let loose before the Cagliari palace.
Suddenly, as Blanka stood before her fire, all her senses alert, she saw the glowing phoenix rise from its position, and her fair neighbour stood in the opening.
”Put out your fire, and let me in,” bade the marchioness. ”I have emptied my extinguisher. Don't you hear the mob storming my palace gates? The soldiery who were summoned to restore order have made common cause with the rioters, and we are in frightful peril. Quick! Out with your fire, and let me and my guests through. We can make our escape by your rear door, and so gain the riverside in safety.”
Blanka could not refuse this appeal. She opened the way for the marchioness and her motley company to pa.s.s out; then she herself, first closing the secret pa.s.sage between the two wings of the palace, followed the other fugitives and, gaining the street by a wide detour, engaged a cab to take her to the Vatican.
”His Holiness receives no one this afternoon,” was the announcement made to her at the door.