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"You appear to have introduced some incognita to us, Signor Capitano,"
said Beatrice, with cutting scorn. "Perhaps you will be so good as to explain to us exactly who the princess is who has just now condescended to leave us."
"Yes, by heaven, very proud, but also very beautiful!" cried the Marchese, his admiration breaking forth, while Hugo replied coolly--
"You are mistaken, Signora. I told you the name of the German lady."
The young Italian went up to his friend and laid his hand on the latter's shoulder.
"Signora's mistake is easily understood. Do not you think so also, Rinaldo?--Good G.o.d, what is the matter--what ails you?"
CHAPTER III.
"Nothing," said Reinhold, recovering himself with a great effort. "I am not well; the stormy voyage has upset me. It is nothing, Cesario."
"I believe the best we can do is to think of our return," interrupted Hugo, who deemed it necessary to distract attention from his brother, as he saw that the latter could no longer control his agitation. "A repet.i.tion of the storm need not be feared, and as the padrone has promised to procure us a carriage, we can reach S---- this evening if we start soon."
It was the first time that Beatrice cordially agreed to any proposition made by Captain Almbach. Marchese Tortoni, on the contrary, considered any great haste very unnecessary, and raised several objections. All at once the lonely _locanda_ seemed to have gained remarkable attractions for him. But as he could not succeed in his wishes--for Reinhold also insisted upon an immediate return--he joined Captain Almbach, who went to see about the carriage.
"I fear you made up some tale for your brother and me, when you declared that a certain villa was inaccessible," said he, teasingly.
"It was suspicious at the time when you confessed your failure so openly, and let our jokes fall so quietly upon you. I could swear that I had seen this charming figure and those glorious fair plaits once before, when I rode past the villa. I understand, of course, that you would not make us the confidants of your adventure, still----"
"You are mistaken," interrupted Hugo, with a decision which made it impossible to doubt his words. "There is no talk of an adventure here, Signor Marchese. I give you my word upon it."
"Ah, then pardon me," said Cesario, seriously; "I believe your apparently intimate acquaintance with the lady----"
"Arises from a former acquaintance in Germany," completed Captain Almbach. "I certainly had no suspicion of this meeting, when I believed I was seeking a perfect stranger in the Villa Fiorina; but I repeat it, that the word 'adventure' must not be connected in the remotest degree with that lady, and that I claim the most perfect and unqualified respect for her from all."
The very positive tone of this explanation might, perhaps, have irritated another listener, but the young Marchese, on the contrary, seemed to find unmistakable satisfaction in it.
"I do not in the least doubt that you are quite justified in your demand," replied he, very warmly. "The whole bearing of the beautiful lady answers for it. What imposing dignity, and what a perfectly charming appearance! I never saw any woman unite the two so thoroughly."
"Really?" Hugo's voice betrayed by no means pleasant surprise, as he looked at his companion, whose cheeks were deeply suffused with colour, and whose eyes sparkled. Captain Almbach did not utter another word, but his countenance told plainly enough what he thought. "I believe this ideal-man also begins to care about other things besides airs and recitatives--however, it is quite unnecessary."
Beatrice stood alone up in the verandah. She had not followed Reinhold and Lord Elton, who also descended. Her hand buried itself unconsciously in the wet vine-leaves, while her dark eyes were fixed steadily on the sea. Lost in gloomy meditation, she only clung to the one thought, which her lips now uttered, as half threateningly, half frightened, she whispered----"What was it between them?"
Autumn had come, and brought strangers and inhabitants back from the seaside and mountains to the large ever stirring and bustling central point of Italy. It was indeed not such an autumn as leads nature to its grave in the North, with gloomy, rainy days, raw stormy nights, rolling mists, h.o.a.r and night frosts. Here it lay mildly in golden clearness and indescribable beauty over the wide plains, from which at last the summer's heat had subsided; over the mountains, which, at other times were day after day enveloped in hot vapour, encircled with white clouds, now again showed their blue outlines undisguised; and over the town, where the great wave of life which for several moons had rolled slowly, now flowed forth with renewed power.
Signora Biancona had also returned. Her stay in S---- had been as unexpectedly and quickly terminated as was Reinhold's in Mirando. He seemed as if, all at once, he could not endure his usually favourite place any longer. Almost immediately after their stormy sea excursion, he insisted positively that the original plan should be adhered to, and the _villegiatura_ in the mountains, long since decided upon, be carried out. The Marchese's objections, even his openly-displayed annoyance--having counted upon a lengthy visit from his guests--were in vain, as Beatrice also agreed somewhat eagerly to Reinhold's plan, and thus Cesario remained alone in Mirando, while the others went to the mountains, from which they had now just returned.
It was during the forenoon. Signora Biancona was sitting in her boudoir, her head resting on her arm, and her hand buried in her dark hair, in an att.i.tude of eager attention. The conductor, Gianelli, had taken up his position opposite to her. Whatever his real feelings towards the envied Rinaldo might be, he was much too clever not to show outwardly all necessary respect and consideration to him, who, in the world of art, as in society, was all-powerful; and towards the beautiful _prima donna_ he was now all attention and devotion, which he showed in voice and manner, as, continuing the conversation already begun, he said--
"You had commanded, Signora, and that was sufficient for me at once to set all machinery in motion. I am fortunate in being able to fulfil your wish, and impart the fullest information upon a certain subject."
Beatrice lifted up her head with liveliest eagerness. "Well?"
"This Signor Erlau is, as you supposed, a merchant from H----. He must, indeed, belong to the richest of his cla.s.s, as everywhere he appears like a millionaire. He has rented the entire Villa Fiorina, near S----, for himself and his family, and here, also, he inhabits one of the most expensive houses. His household is arranged in great style; part of the servants brought from Germany. He bears important introductions to his emba.s.sy, of which, however, he has not made any use as yet, because his state of health necessitates retirement. His move here, in fact, was only made in order to put himself under the treatment of one of our most celebrated doctors----"
"I know all that already," interrupted Beatrice, impatiently. "When I heard the name, I did not doubt that it was the same Consul at whose house I visited during my stay in H----. But the lady who accompanies them--the young Signora?"
"Is his niece," explained Gianelli, who made an intentional pause after the first words.
The singer appeared to consider. "She certainly was presented to me as Signora Erlau. A relation, therefore. I did not see her in those days.
I surely should have remarked her; one does not so easily over look such a figure."
The maestro smiled with a malicious expression. "She is _said_ to bear the same name, certainly, as her adopted father; she is _said_ to be a widow--_said_ to have lost her husband many years since. At least, they wish such to be believed in Italy, and the servants have strict orders to answer all enquiries in this manner."
Beatrice listened attentively to this explanation with its double meaning, "'_Said_ to be;' but is it not so? I suspected that some secret lay hidden there. You have discovered it?"
"Servants are never silent, if one understands to apply in the right manner," remarked Gianelli, scornfully. "I only fear it is an extremely delicate point, and as it concerns Signor Rinaldo----"
"Rinaldo!" exclaimed Beatrice, "how so? What has Rinaldo to do with it?
Did you not say that it concerns Rinaldo?"
The maestro bent his head, and said in his softest tone, "I was then, indeed mistaken, Signora, when I premised that the cause of your wish to learn more particulars about the Erlau family originated with Signor Rinaldo."
The singer bit her lips. She certainly might have foreseen that the motive which dictated the commission she had given him could not escape the observing eyes of a Gianelli.
"Let us leave Rinaldo out of the question!" said she, with an effort to appear calm. "You were about to speak of Signora Erlau."
"It would be somewhat difficult to separate one from the other,"
suggested Gianelli. "I only fear Signor Rinaldo is unfortunately not favourably disposed towards me already, certainly from no fault of mine. I fear I might arouse his extreme ill-will if he discovered it was I who made such a communication, and especially to you"--he paused, and drew figures on the floor with his walking stick, in well-feigned confusion.
"To me, especially!" repeated Beatrice, violently, "then this communication is not intended for me? You must speak, Signor Gianelli!
You shall not withhold one word, not one syllable either! I require, I demand it of you."
"Well then----" he seemed really about to come to the explanation, but the game was too interesting to give it up so soon, and the maestro himself had too often suffered from the temper of the beautiful _prima donna_ to be able to deny himself the satisfaction of keeping her still longer on the rack of eagerness.
"Well then, you surely are aware of Signor Rinaldo's former bonds; but in, Italy few or none know that he was already married. I myself was only informed of it on this occasion. You, of course, were acquainted with the fact."
"I know it," replied Beatrice, suppressedly, "but how does that concern this?"
"Indeed it does to some extent. You do not know Rinaldo's wife, Signora?"
"No. Though yes; I saw her once momentarily. A very insignificant person."
"They do not seem to think so, here," remarked Gianelli, again in the same soft tone. "Notwithstanding her seclusion, the beautiful fair German begins to create a sensation."
"Who?" Beatrice rose so suddenly and wildly, that the maestro thought it wiser to retire a few steps. "Of whom are you speaking?"
"Of Signora Eleonore Almbach, who certainly bears her adopted father's name here, probably to avoid inquisitive inquiries."
"That is impossible," exclaimed the singer, now with extreme violence.
"That cannot be. You deceive me, or have been yourself deceived."
"Excuse me," said Gianelli, defending himself, "my source is the most authentic. I will answer for its correctness, and Signor Rinaldo will be obliged to confirm it."