"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.

"But if you are really speaking in my own interests as my friend, general, why cannot you furnish me with the weapon by which I can defend myself from him?" she suggested at last.

"For two reasons. First, your parents, ignorant of the real facts, are delighted at the prospect of your marriage; secondly, Solaro alone holds the truth. He can speak and prove his facts."

"Regarding what?"

"Regarding Jules Dubard."

"Regarding the man whom you still allege is your friend? Really, general, the manner in which you exhibit friendship towards others is a rather curious one, if this is an example of it?"

He was unprepared for such a remark from her. But it showed him, nevertheless, how frank and fearless she had become.

"I merely offer you my advice, signorina," he answered, shifting slightly in his chair and settling his sword. "It is surely a thousand pities that you should become the victim of a man of Dubard's stamp when, by a little clever manoeuvring, you may not only do an act of justice by freeing poor Solaro, but also free yourself from the engagement into which you have entered against your will."

"But you tell me that my father has already refused to release the captain?" she remarked, regarding him with a puzzled air. "If this is so, then what can I do further?"

"Persuade him. You alone can induce him to act as you desire.

Recollect that upon that man's liberty your own future depends."

The Sicilian, careful student of the human character as he was, knew well that a generous, magnanimous woman, like the one before him, is more ingenious and confident in well-doing than any man. He had carefully watched her, and by means of his secret agents knew that she entertained no love for the man to whom she had become engaged.

Therefore, with his unequalled cunning, he had devised a fresh means of making his _coup_ and attaining his end in spite of Jules Dubard.

He watched her beautiful countenance, and saw that his words had created an impression. A grave injustice had been done in degrading and imprisoning the handsome young captain who had once admired her so, and he knew that she would seek to remedy it. He had given her a strong and direct motive for securing Solaro's release--her own liberty.

"Very well," she sighed at last. "I thank you, general, for speaking to me so frankly. I will see what I can do in order to obtain a pardon for him. But if I do, will you promise to a.s.sist me in the matter which concerns me personally?"

"I promise you that Solaro shall tell the truth; that on the day following his release you shall be placed in a position to defy this man who believes that you have fallen his victim. Do you agree?"

She was silent for a moment, still distrustful of the man who had so narrowly encompa.s.sed her father's downfall. Yet she recollected that the face of politics changes quickly, and in a low voice and with sudden resolution answered--

"I do."

He stretched forth his white gloved hand, and without further word she took it in pledge of good faith. She had in her desperation made terms with the enemy, and as the Under-Secretary rose to escort her back through the gay a.s.sembly in the state-rooms, a faint, good-humoured smile flitted across his sallow features.

He felt confident that his craft and cunning must succeed--that she would obtain Solaro's release, and then the triumph for which he had so long and patiently waited would be his.

True, the fate of men's lives and nations' destinies was often juggled with in those great gilded halls where the air was heavy with perfume, the ear charmed with delightful music, and the eye dazzled by the glitter of that brilliant court, every member of which, man or woman, schemed, struggled, and intrigued to satisfy their own vices or their own ambitions.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

THE BIRTH OF LOVE.

George and Mary met frequently in the days that followed. His Excellency was still suffering from an attack of that prostrating malady Roman fever, and George, as his private secretary, was daily in attendance upon him.

Morini liked the young man for his honest English st.u.r.diness of character, his diligent application to his duties, and his enthusiasm for all that was beneficial to the army. He had quickly picked up his duties, and already the Minister of War found his a.s.sistance indispensable.

He worked a good deal in the big old library of the palace, wherein the Minister's daughter and wife often entered to salute him and sometimes to give him an invitation to remain to luncheon, when the conversation would generally be upon English matters in general and things at Orton and Thornby in particular. Both mother and daughter delighted in their English home, and always regretted leaving it for that fevered existence they were compelled to lead continually in the Italian capital.