Manasseh | Page 8

as he caught his breath and meekly looked
around for a vacant place.
A lightning-flash from the blond beauty's eyes and a mocking smile
from the dandy rewarded this courteous forbearance. But the mocking
smile changed the next instant to a sudden expression of disquiet, if not
of actual fear. Manasseh Adorjan stood in the doorway, and Blanka
noted a swift interchange of glances between the young men, like the
flashing of two drawn swords.
"That place is already engaged, sir," said Manasseh, quietly.
Benjamin Vajdar's face flushed quickly, and then as suddenly paled. In
his eyes one could have read rage, hate, and fear, and his right hand
clutched the head of his cane convulsively, as if about to draw the
weapon therein concealed. But Manasseh still stood regarding him
fixedly, and the intruder yielded without a word. Taking up his satchel,
he left the compartment. The whole scene had occupied but a moment.

What was it that gave one of these men such power over the other, like
that of a lion-tamer over his charge?
Manasseh himself took the vacated seat, without offering it to the
advocate, and sat looking out of the window as long as Vajdar was in
sight. At length the train started, and as it soon entered on a stretch of
monotonous, waste territory, Blanka yielded to the drowsy lullaby of
the smoothly rolling wheels, and fell asleep. Once or twice she half
opened her eyes and was vaguely conscious that the young stranger
opposite her was drawing something in the sketch-book that lay open
on his knee. She pushed her veil still farther back from face and brow,
hardly aware what she was doing, and again fell asleep.
CHAPTER IV.
A BIT OF STRATEGY.
A sharp whistle from the locomotive awakened the sleepers.
"Where are we now?" asked Blanka.
"Near Bologna," answered the artist, who alone had remained awake;
"and there I have to leave the train, which continues on, via Imola, to
Ancona."
"You leave the train? But I thought you, too, were going to Rome," said
the princess, in surprise.
"So I am," was the reply, "but by another route. My luggage will go
through to Ancona, and thence by diligence to Rome, while I push on
over the Apennines to Pistoja and Florence. It is a harder road, but its
splendid views amply repay one for an occasional climb on foot by the
vetturino's side; and then, too, I shall reach Rome one day ahead of you,
who go by way of Ancona."
Blanka listened with interest. "Couldn't we take that route also?" she
asked. "What do you say to it, Maria? We could quietly leave the train
at Bologna and let our trunks go on to Rome without us."

"But are the mountain passes safe?" queried Madam Dormandy,
turning to Manasseh. "Is there no danger of highwaymen?"
"Bad men are to be feared everywhere," replied the young man; "but as
for highway robbers, they are much more to be apprehended by those
travelling with valises and trunks than by the tourist that simply carries
a satchel slung over his shoulder, as I intend to do. In my student days I
used to tramp over these mountains in every direction, and the brigands
never molested me. Whenever I fell in with a band I used to group the
men together and sketch them. Artists have nothing to fear from
gentlemen of the road."
"And besides, we are two able-bodied men, and I always carry a brace
of pistols--don't you?" spoke up the advocate, his professional zeal
kindling at the prospect of stealing a march on the enemy.
"I carry no weapons of any kind," calmly replied the artist.
"Oh, I fear no harm from bad men," exclaimed the princess; "there is
but one bad man whom we need to dread."
The others easily guessed to whom she referred; but Gabriel Zimandy
was bent on making her meaning still plainer.
"He'd better not follow us into the mountains!" he cried, "for if the
young rogue falls into my hands he'll wish he'd never been born. Lucky
for him he took our friend's gentle hint; had he kept his seat a moment
longer there would have been serious trouble."
"Ha, ha!" laughed Madam Dormandy; "how surprised he will be when
he fails to find us at Ancona and is obliged to journey on by diligence
with our baggage, but without us!"
"We shall be hurrying on ahead of him over these grand old
mountains," added the princess, with enthusiasm, her cheeks glowing in
pleased anticipation. "And we have to thank you, Mr. Adorjan, for the
suggestion." With an impulsive movement she extended her hand to the
young artist, who scarcely ventured to touch her finger-tips in return.

"Very well, then," said he, "we will try