The Midnight Guest

summon some of his retainers, and command them to avenge the honour and dignity of the family. My father chose not to do it. He was satisfied with the solemn assurance that only one child of his remained. The summons was sent out by Silva. He did not tell me. I did not know in the least what he was doing till afterwards. But the sign went forth, and my husband received his warning. There was no escape for him, and he knew it. That is why he took his own life. No doubt in doing so he was actuated by some extraordinary motive, for, with all his faults, he was no coward; but even from beyond the grave he persecuted me. His body was found in circumstances that pointed to me as the murderess. Oh, you may start and shrink, but what I tell you is absolutely true. The whole thing was planned, with diabolical ingenuity, by the Count on the night of his death. Had it not been for Silva I should have gone down to my grave execrated by all who knew me.”

“But you were not there,” Ravenspur expostulated. “It was proved that you were in Florence at the time.”

“That was where Silva’s cunning and ingenuity came in. During the few hours that preceded and followed that tragic event I saw nobody. I was utterly worn out and prostrated. I could not drag myself from my bed. But nobody saw me, for I had given strict orders that I was not to be disturbed. I did not know then that my sister was alive. In fact, I had got into such a state that I had no interest in anything. At that time my sister Maria was taking a holiday in Florence, and Silva was aware of the fact. When I ask you to notice the extraordinary likeness between us, you will have no trouble in guessing what happened. Silva was in a position to bring over scores of people from Florence, who swore that I was in that town at the time of the tragedy. It was a bold thing to do, and nobody guessed, nobody doubted the sincerity of the witnesses, and thus my life was saved.”

“It is a most extraordinary story,” Ravenspur murmured. “But, really, there is no reason for you to justify yourself any further. We know that you are absolutely innocent of any sort of crime. I know now what kind of a life Flavio led you. Had I been aware at the time I should never have interfered. And yet Flavio managed to convey to me the impression that you were the last woman in the world who ought to have the custody of a child. I committed an illegal act at the earnest request of my old friend. I ran a great risk, but it seemed to me that I was justified in what I did.”

“I see you are now,” the Countess said thoughtfully. “For many, many years no doubt you have rejoiced in the fact that you saved Vera from a life of misery and unhappiness. You never expected to see or hear from me again. You looked upon the child as your own. And now, to a certain extent, I must justify myself. I stand in your eyes as a deeply wronged and injured woman, and yet you might say to yourself that as a mother I have been lacking in my duties. I tell you for a long time after the death of my husband my mind trembled on the borderline between reason and insanity. I was afraid to see my child. I was fearful lest I should find in her some trace of her father; and, if I had done so, I believe that I should have taken her life. But, gradually, as the years went on and I grew older, a longing to see my child came over me that amounted almost to a passion. I left my retreat in the mountains, and came into the world again. It was at this time that I met Silva once more, and for three years he was looking for my child. I need not tell you, Lord Ravenspur, how he got on the track.”

Lord Ravenspur shivered and nodded in reply.

“I would have prevented that if I could,” the Countess went on quickly. “I wanted no violence. But I knew that Silva would go his own way. I knew that nobody could check his fanaticism. In his eyes you were marked down for slaughter. You had violated the dignity and honour of the family, and therefore you must be removed. Let me be quite candid⁠—I think I hated you almost as much as Silva did. You had robbed me of my child at the instigation of my cruel husband. Not unnaturally, I regarded you as being little or no better than Count Flavio. All the same, as I said before, I wanted no violence. That was one of the reasons why I did not come to your house and claim my child. I felt sure that you would defy me, and place Vera somewhere beyond my reach.”

“Most undoubtedly I should,” Ravenspur said candidly. “You see, I did not know then that you were capable⁠—”

“Of looking after my daughter,” the Countess interrupted. “And, from your point of view, your actions would have been justified. As soon as the danger threatened seriously you made arrangements to get away from England until Vera was of age, and capable of acting for herself. But Silva found out⁠—”

“One moment,” Vera cried eagerly. “Was your servant, Silva, in Park Lane disguised as a blind organ-grinder?”

“I understand so,” the Countess went on. “At any rate, Silva managed things, in his usual able manner. He contrived to get Vera away from Lady Ringmar’s party, and bring here down her. I daresay you will think that this was all very melodramatic and unnecessary, but, as I pointed out to you before, I wanted no violence. I thought