Part 34 (1/2)
”The truth of that man's motives.”
”But they are all a mystery. How can I ascertain the truth?”
”There is one man who knows--one man who, if he chose to speak, could at once give you freedom.”
”But who is he?” she inquired eagerly.
”Felice Solaro--your friend.”
”Solaro!” she gasped. ”But he is in prison in Turin, condemned for fifteen years for treason!”
”For an offence of which he is not guilty,” declared the Under-Secretary quickly.
”Ah! And that is your opinion, as mine, general!” she cried eagerly.
”I know he is innocent.”
”Then secure his release. Persuade your father to sign a decree reversing the finding of the court-martial, and he, in turn, can save you from falling victim to this man to whom you are giving yourself in marriage.”
Angelo Borselli met her piercing glance unmoved. She seemed to be trying to divine the schemer's secret thoughts.
”You will do this--for your own sake,” he whispered earnestly. ”It is unjust that the poor captain should be kept in prison for a crime of which he is innocent.”
”But if you know that he is not guilty, why have you not already used your own influence as Under-Secretary to secure his release?” she asked, with distinct suspicion, a thousand uneasy thoughts agitating her bosom.
”Because I am powerless. It is only His Excellency, your father, who can sign decrees,” was his reply, adding, ”I have more than once directed his attention to the act of gross injustice, but his reply has in each case been the same--namely, that he had examined the evidence, and that he could discover no doubt about the captain's culpability in selling the secrets of Tresenta and of our mobilisation scheme for the protection of the French frontier. Both secrets actually reached the Intelligence Department of the French Ministry of War, for that has been proved beyond doubt by our secret agents in Paris; and, further, they pa.s.sed through the hands of a lady friend of Solaro's--Filomena Nodari.”
”Where is that woman now? Still in Bologna?”
”No, I think not,” was his reply, without, however, telling her how he had taken the woman into his service and sent her to England. ”I learned a short time ago that she had left, and gone abroad.”
”It was through her false evidence that Felice was convicted. She told foul untruths concerning him,” his companion cried angrily.
”I know. Perhaps it is owing to fear of the truth being exposed that she has left Bologna. But in any case, it is only common justice that poor Solaro should be released. He has never had a chance of a proper appeal--your father refused it to him.”
”But why? Has my father any reason why the poor fellow should be kept in prison?”
Angelo Borselli raised his shoulders and exhibited his palms in a gesture more forcible than mere words.
”And if he has, then how can I hope to succeed in turning his favour towards the accused man?”
”Try. Do your utmost, signorina,” he urged, with perhaps more eagerness than was really warrantable in such circ.u.mstances. ”Appeal to your father's sense of justice, to his honour, to his reputation as one always ready to redress wrongs. You, as his daughter, can accomplish everything if you wish--even the freedom of Felice Solaro.”
”And if I do?”
”Then he will speak the truth, and you need have no fear of the man who has so cleverly entrapped you into this engagement. When the truth is out he will at once relinquish his claim to your hand.”
She hesitated. She was wondering whether the crafty statesman who had risen by her father's favours was really aware of the secret compact she had made with Dubard; whether he knew that she had given her hand to him in exchange for his protection of her father's honour.
Jules had seen her a few days after the curious scene in the Chamber of Deputies. He had come to her to receive the payment he had demanded in the shape of a formal engagement of marriage. But he had told her nothing concerning the manner in which he had managed to avert the crisis, and she only knew the story of the letter to Montebruno through Vito Ricci, her father's spy. She was unaware of Jules' visit to the man now before her, or of his threat to make revelations if the fatal question were asked in the Chamber.
Women of Mary Morini's type rise to higher heights of sacrifice and, when determined, act with a courage rare among men. She is herself in a thousand ways men never dare to be, and a fine woman is worth a hundred of the finest men.