“That I wish my friend had known nothing of it.”
“For what reason?”
“Because I know it will awaken in his restless mind a thousand hopes that can never be realised; it will give him a world of trouble which will all be useless.”
“Not useless, if it be the will of the Blessed Virgin, and if my friend does not refuse me her assistance.”
“What can I do in this matter?”
“Almost everything; everything at least that can be done at present. I mean, observe the parties in question, first and foremost the betrothed couple; see how they bear their happiness, whether with the modesty which would be appropriate under the circumstances in which it was born, or with that scornful pride which, according to your proverb, goes before a fall. A fugitive glance, a gesture, a turn of the eyes—what will they not say to one who is so well prepared as my talented friend? I recommend to her in particular the clever Carla, who will meet her with open arms; les beaux esprits se rencontrent; but, to return to my first story, and, like a good narrator, to weave it properly into the second, I recommend also to your kind care the more modest Elsa. With regard to this young lady, I have also a special request to make, that you will observe whether she shows particular interest when the name of a certain Herr Reinhold Schmidt is mentioned in her presence.”
“What new idea is this, my friend?”
“The last instalment of my news, for which I have to thank the dear Councillor, who learnt it, in his turn, from Count Golm. A little episode of jealousy, to which I attach particular importance, although I am still rather behindhand as regards the details. Still it is an interesting fact, that the gentleman in question, whose acquaintance your niece only made quite lately on the much-talked-of journey, is a cousin of the beautiful Ferdinanda, whose beauty had nearly made you the richer by half a million. The jealousy of the nobleman, and the angry contempt with which poor Antonio speaks of the Captain, lead me to suppose that the cousins are not unlike one another. You will agree with me that so delightful a family should be cultivated. I am dying to make their acquaintance.”
Giraldi had risen and gone a few steps to meet the servant, who had just come into the room with a visiting card. “Ah!” he exclaimed, taking the card from the waiter, “beg his Excellency to walk into my room. I will follow in a minute.”
He turned once more to Valerie.
“That is a happy yet unhappy coincidence—at the very moment when we were expecting your relations. I could send away the Councillor if necessary, the easier, that he is already behind his time. This gentleman is one of those who must be received at all hours and under all circumstances.”
He held the card to Valerie. “Who is it?” she asked, reading a name which in her bewilderment she could not recognise.
“But, cara mia!” exclaimed Giraldi, “who that is? The man who, half blind as he is, sees clearer than most men do with both their eyes; the man who, divested of all official authority, gives the Chancellor of the German Empire more to do than the plenipotentiary of a large state would do; the man, in a word, on whose feeble form the weight of the struggle which we have to fight in Germany rests almost wholly! But I am quite content that my lady should have no very lively sympathy for the troubles of our Holy Church, if she will bear her own sorrows with patience, if only the unhoped for, miraculous prospect of revenging the injustice of long years, perhaps at one blow, can allure her! There are thousands and thousands of brave men ready to take up the weapons which fall from the hands of the exhausted champions of the Almighty; here in this struggle I stand alone, and the Blessed Virgin will forgive me if even her cause is not dearer to me than that of the mother of my child!”
There was a metallic ring in the man’s soft, melodious voice, a curious fire burnt in his dark eyes, the slender elastic figure appeared to grow taller, as he now stood drawn to his full height, with one arm raised as if for the combat. Then, as if by magic, all the heroism vanished from voice, countenance, attitude and gesture. He bent down to the sitting figure, took her hand, on which he pressed his lips with respectful tenderness: “Addio, carissima! addio, anima mia dolce!”
He was gone, again nodding a greeting to her at the door with a graceful movement, which she returned with an obedient smile, then sank back, as if shattered, into her seat.
“In vain! in vain!” she murmured. “I can never free myself, never. He is a thousand times the stronger, and he knows it only too well! That was the glance of the tiger at the deer that is in his grasp; those were the eyes of the serpent, fixed on the bird in its nest. Lost! lost! his sure prey, his obedient tool; forced to act, to speak, to smile, to breathe
