A Siren | Page 8

see that there were no
ears within such a distance as to overhear his words,--"the fact is, that I

am afraid Signor Ludovico is less cautious than it would be well for
him to be, circumstanced as he is! I am sure I did not want to listen to
what he and the Lalli were saying to each other. It is nothing to me. But
they spoke with such little precaution, that I could not help overhearing
what they said; and what do you think Ludovico is up to now?"
"How should I know!" said the Marchese, with the tips of his pale lips;
for he was grinding his teeth together to prevent them from chattering
in his head.
"He is off at six o'clock to-morrow morning tete-a-tete with La Bianca,
on an excursion to the Pineta. Coming it strong, isn't it?"
"To-morrow morning!" said the Marchese under his breath, and with
difficulty; for his blood seemed suddenly to rush back cold to his heart,
and he was shivering all over.
"Niente meno! I heard them arrange it all. He is to slip away from the
ball presently, in order to make all needful preparations, and to be at
her door with a bagarino at six o'clock in the morning. Doing the thing
nicely, isn't it?"
For a minute or two the Marchese was utterly unable to answer him a
word. His head swam round. He felt sick. A cold perspiration broke out
all over him; and he feared that he should have fallen from his seat.
"He is a great fool for his pains," he said at last, mastering himself by a
great effort, sufficiently to enable himself to utter the words in an
ordinary voice and manner.
"Well, it seemed to me a mad scheme, considering all things. And the
truth is, that I thought your lordship would very likely think it well to
put a stop to it. And that is why I have bored your lordship by
mentioning it to you."
"At six o'clock, you say?" asked the Marchese.
"Yes; that was the hour they fixed. Then he is to drive her to a

farm-house on the border of the forest, leave the bagarino there, and go
into the wood for a stroll. Not a bad idea for a wind-up of the Carnival,
upon my word!"
"I think you have done very wisely and kindly in telling me this, Signor
Conte," said the Marchese, in as quiet tones as he could command;
"and if you will complete your kindness by saying no word of it to
anybody else, I shall esteem myself much obliged to you."
"Oh! for that you may depend on me, Signor Marchese. I should never
have thought of mentioning it to you, but for thinking that it would be a
real kindness to Ludovico to put a stop to it."
"Thanks, Signor Conte. A rivederla!" said the Marchese, rising.
"Felicissima notte, Signor Marchese," returned Leandro, rising also,
and bowing to his companion.
CHAPTER III
St. Apollinare in Classe
The Marchese remained at the ball to see one more dance between
Ludovico and Bianca after their supper; and then left the rooms. There
was nothing at all to cause remark in his thus retiring before the
evening. He never danced;--he happened not to be playing cards on that
evening. It was quite natural that such a man should prefer going home
to bed to remaining with the jeunes gens till the break- up of the ball.
How he enjoyed that last dance, which he stayed to see, the reader may
perhaps imagine. Standing by a chimney-piece, on one corner of which
he rested his elbow, he in great measure shaded his face with his hand,
yet not so as to prevent him from seeing every movement of the
persons, and every expression of the faces of the couple he was
watching. There was a raging hell in his heart. And yet he stood there,
and gazed eagerly, greedily one would have said. And every minute,
and every movement blasted his eyes and stabbed his heart, and poured
poison into his veins.

When the dance was over he did not move for some time; for he
doubted his power to hold himself upright and walk steadily. Presently,
however, when Ludovico and Bianca had again quitted the ball-room
together, he gathered himself up, and moved slowly away, shaking in
every limb, pale, fever-lipped, and haggard.
The man who gave him his cloak in the ante-room remarked to another
servant, as soon as he was gone, that he would bet that the Marchese
Lamberto would not be at the next Carnival ball.
At six o'clock, with wonderful punctuality for an Italian, Ludovico,
with a neat little bagarino and fast-trotting pony, was at the door of the
Diva's lodging. But