Cecilia Part 43

She left his side and went towards the door, her head a little bent. As she laid her hand upon the handle, and looked back at Guido once again, it turned in her fingers and was drawn quickly away from them. She started and turned her head to see who was there.

Lamberti stood before her, and immediately pushed her back into the room and shut the door, visibly disturbed.

"This way!" he said quickly, in an undertone.

He led her swiftly to another door, which he opened for her and closed as soon as she had pa.s.sed.

"Wait for me there!" he said, as she went in.

"What is the matter?" asked Guido rather faintly, when he realised what his friend had done.

"Her mother is in the hall," Lamberti said. "Do not be startled, she knows nothing. She insists on seeing for herself how you are. She says her daughter begged her to come."

"Tell her I am too ill to see her, please, and thank her very much. It is all over, Lamberti, we have parted."

A dark flush rose in Lamberti's face.

"You must see the Countess," he said hurriedly. "I am sorry, but unless she comes here, her daughter cannot get out without being seen. We cannot leave her in your room. I will not do it, for your man may wake up and go there. There is no time to be lost either!"

"Bring the Countess in," said Guido, with an effort, and moving uneasily on his couch.

He felt that nothing was spared him. In the few seconds that elapsed, he tried to decide what he should say to the Countess, and how he could account for knowing that Cecilia had now definitely broken off the engagement. Before he had come to any conclusion the Countess was ushered in, rosy and smiling, but a little timid at finding herself in a young bachelor's quarters.

Meanwhile, Cecilia was in Guido's bedroom. An older woman might have suspected some ign.o.ble treachery, but her perfect innocence protected her from all fear. Lamberti would not have brought her there in such a hurry unless there had been some absolute necessity for getting her out of sight at once. Undoubtedly some visitor had come who could not be turned away. Perhaps it was the doctor. Moreover, she was too much disturbed by what had taken place to pay much attention to what was, after all, a detail.

She looked about her and saw that there was another door by which Lamberti would presently enter to let her out. There was the great bed with the coverlet of old arras displaying the royal arms, and beside it stood a small table of mahogany inlaid with bra.s.s. It had tall and slender legs that ended below in little bra.s.s lions' paws, and it had a single drawer.

Without hesitation she went and opened it. Lamberti had been right.

There was the revolver, a silver-mounted weapon with an ivory handle, much more for ornament than use, but quite effective enough for the purpose to which Guido might put it. Beside it lay a little pile of notes in their envelopes, and she involuntarily recognised her own handwriting. He had kept all she had written to him within his reach while he had been ill, and the thought pained her. The revolver was a very light one, made with only five chambers. She took it and examined it when she had shut the drawer again, and she saw that it was fully loaded. Old Fortiguerra had taught her to use firearms a little, and she knew how to load and unload them. She slipped the cartridges out quickly and tied them together in her handkerchief, and then dropped them into her parasol and the revolver after them.

She went to the tall mirror in the door of the wardrobe and began to arrange her veil, expecting Lamberti every moment. She had hardly finished when he entered and beckoned to her. She caught up her parasol by the middle so as to hold its contents safely, and in a few seconds she was outside the front door of the apartment. Lamberti drew a breath of relief.

"Take those!" she said quickly, producing the pistol and the cartridges.

"He must not have them."

Lamberti took the weapon and put it into his pocket, and held the parasol, while she untied the handkerchief and gave him the contents.

Both began to go downstairs.

"I had better tell you who came," Lamberti said, as they went. "You will be surprised. It was your mother."

"My mother!" Cecilia stopped short on the step she had reached. "I did not think she meant to come!"

She went on, and Lamberti kept by her side.

"You can seem surprised when she tells you," he said. "You have definitely broken your engagement, then? Guido had time to tell me so."

"Yes, I could not lie to him. It was very hard, but I am glad it is all over, though he is very angry now."

They reached the last landing before the court without meeting any one, and she paused again. He wondered what expression was on her face while she spoke, for he could scarcely see the outline of her features through the veil.

"Thank you again," she said. "We may not meet for a long time, for my mother and I shall go away at once, and I suppose we shall not come back next winter." She spoke rather bitterly now. "My reputation is damaged, I fancy, because I have refused to marry a man I do not love!"

"I will take care of your reputation," Lamberti answered, as if he were saying the most natural thing in the world.

"It is hardly your place to do that," Cecilia answered, much surprised.

"It may not be my right," Lamberti said, "as people consider those things. But it is my place, as Guido's friend and yours, as the only man alive who is devoted to you both."

"I am more grateful than I can tell you. But please let people say what they like of me, and do not take my defence. You, of all the men I know, must not."

"Why not I, of all men? I, of all men, will."

She was standing with her back to the wall on the landing, and he was facing her now. His face looked a little more set and determined than usual, and he was rather pale, and he stood st.u.r.dily still before her.

She could see his face through her veil, though he could hardly distinguish hers. He felt for a moment as if he were talking to a sort of lay figure that represented her and could not answer him.

"I, of all men, will take care that no one says a word against you," he said, as she was silent.

"But why? Why you?"

"You have definitely given up all idea of marrying Guido? Absolutely?

For ever? You are sure, in your own conscience, that he has no sort of claim on you left, and that he knows it?"

"Yes, yes! But----"

"Then," he said, not heeding her, "as you and I may not meet again for a long time, and as it cannot do you the least harm to know it, and as you will have no right to feel that I shall be lacking in respect to you, if I say it, I am going to give myself the satisfaction of telling you something I have taken great pains to hide since we first met."

"What is it?" asked Cecilia, nervously.

"It is a very simple matter, and one that will not interest you much."

He paused one moment, and fixed his eyes on the brown veil, where he knew that hers were.

"I love you."

Cecilia started violently, and put out one hand against the wall behind her.

"Do not be frightened, Contessina," he said gently. "Many men will say that to you before you are old. But none of them will mean it more truly than I. Shall we go? Your mother may not stay long with Guido."

He moved, expecting her to go on, but she leaned against the wall where she stood, and she stared at his face through her veil. For an instant she thought she was going to faint, for her heart stopped beating and the blood left her head. She did not know whether it was happiness, or surprise, or fear that paralysed her, when his simple words revealed the vastness of the mistake in which she had lived, and the immensity of joy she had missed by so little. She pressed her hand flat against the wall beside her, sure that if she moved it she must fall.

"Have I offended you, Signorina?" Lamberti asked, and the low tones shook a little.

She could not speak yet, but his voice seemed to steady her, and her heart beat again. As if she were making a great effort her hand slowly left the wall, and she stretched it out towards him, silently asking for his. He did not understand, but he took it and held it quietly, coming a little nearer to her.

"You have forgiven me," he said. "Thank you. You are kind. Good-bye."

But then her fingers closed on his with almost frantic pressure.

"No, no!" she cried. "Not yet! One moment more!"