Part 27 (2/2)

Fuori! Go along with you, my child. Ci penso io--I will look after all this.” And he locked the door behind him, put the key in his pocket, and took up his water-can.

”What are you doing?” asked the maid. Temistocle had seen a chance, and took it.

”Look here,” said he, rubbing the thumb and forefinger of his hand together before the girl's eyes,--which means ”money” in gesture language--”look here. The signore accompanied the signora to the early train from Castellamare this morning at half past four. They had a hired carriage. She went away and forgot her jewels on the table. She is gone to Rome on business,--they were talking about it last night. Do you understand?”

”No,” answered the woman looking puzzled, ”you said she had gone out”--

”I said so to you,” he answered with a sly grin, ”but I will not say so to any one else, nor you either. Remember that she went to Rome this morning. It will be worth your while to remember that.”

The woman smiled a cunning smile. She had hated her mistress, and would have liked to make a scandal before all the other servants, but Temistocle's advice would be more profitable. So they arranged the matter between them and parted.

Marcantonio was seated at his writing-table when Temistocle entered. He always got up very early, and did a great many things before he dressed.

Temistocle busied himself a moment about the room, and when he was ready to go he came to the table and laid the key he had taken from Leonora's door at his master's elbow.

”What is that?” asked Marcantonio, looking up.

”It is the key of the Signora Marchesa's bedroom, eccellenza,” answered Temistocle, edging away toward the door. ”Her excellency must have gone away very early, and she left her room open and all her jewelry strewed about. So I locked the doors and brought you the key.”

He was very near the door and could escape in a moment.

But Marcantonio did not move; his jaw dropped, and his colour changed to a yellow waxen hue, which terrified the servant. But he did not move.

Temistocle continued.

”I told the servants not to be astonished, as you had accompanied the Signora Marchesa to the early train for Rome before daybreak,” he said, putting his hand on the latch.

Marcantonio made as though he would rise. Temistocle slipped nimbly through the door and closed it behind him, running away as though the police were after him. But he knew that when Carantoni had recovered, he would be amply rewarded for his wisdom. It often chances that villains play a good and sensible part in life, which is quite as profitable as villainy, and is always safer.

Marcantonio struggled to rise, and at last got upon his feet, staggering like a man stunned by a physical blow. The door to Leonora's sitting-room was open, but, beyond, the one to her bedroom was locked.

He had to go round by the pa.s.sage, feeling his way as though he were blind. At last he found the lock,--the key turned, and he entered.

It was just as she had left it. The white peignoir she had taken off when she dressed for her flight lay in a heap upon the floor where she had thrown it in her haste. The dismal, half-burned candles stood on the dressing-table. The drawer from which she had taken the handkerchiefs was half open. The windows were thrown back, and the blinds had not been closed, so that the strong glare of the morning poured rudely in on the confusion, and the flies buzzed about the scented soap and the bottle of lavender and the pot of carnations in the corner.

Marcantonio dragged himself from one part of the room to another till he stumbled against the table on which Leonora had left her scattered jewelry,--all the things he had given her. He stood staring down at the glittering gold and precious stones, unconsciously realising that they were all his presents that she had left behind her. There was a strange old Maltese cross of diamonds and sapphires among them, mounted in silver. It had belonged to his mother, and he had given it to Leonora with other things when he married her. His eyes fastened upon it, and his hand crept across the table and took it.

He raised it to his white lips and kissed it once--twice; he would have kissed it again, but the bow of his strength was bent too far and snapped asunder. With a short, fierce cry he threw up his hands, and fell prostrate on the smooth tiled floor, as a dead man might have fallen.

He lay entirely unconscious for hours, so that when he at last came to himself and struggled to move till he could sit up and stare about him, the midday sun was pouring in, and the flies angrily tormented his ghastly face, as though in derision of anything so miserable. For some minutes he sat upon the floor, dazed and stupid with the oppression of returning grief, as well as stunned from the physical pain resulting from his fall. He was not hurt seriously, but he was bruised and weak.

At last he got to his feet, steadying himself by the table. He would not see what was about him any more, for he knew it all, and the full consciousness of his misfortune was on him. He regained his own room, carefully locking Leonora's door behind him, and taking with him his mother's diamond cross.

But the mere sense of grief could not long hold the mastery with a man like Marcantonio. He had loved his wife too well not to resent the injury and scorn, as well as weep over it. As he pondered, lying on his bed, there arose in his breast a desperate and concentrated anger against the man who had deprived him of what he best loved in the world, the anger of a mind that has never reasoned much about anything, and will carry unreason to any length when it comes. He must find his enemy; that was the princ.i.p.al thought in his mind. That he would kill him when he found him was a conclusion that seemed a matter of course.

But, in order to find him, it was necessary to move, to search, and turn everything over. He turned on his pillow, feeling the first restless stirrings of the demon that would by and by give him no peace by day or night till the man was found and the blow struck. He turned over and rang a bell by his bedside.

”Give me some coffee, and order the carriage,” he said to the servant.

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