A moment later he came upon the Cavaliere, who was sitting with his
elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, so buried in thought that
Rowland had to call him before he roused himself. Giacosa looked at him
a moment keenly, and then gave a shake of the head, interrogatively.
Rowland gave a shake negative, to which the Cavaliere responded by a
long, melancholy sigh. “But her mother is determined to force matters,”
said Rowland.
“It seems that it must be!”
“Do you consider that it must be?”
“I don’t differ with Mrs. Light!”
“It will be a great cruelty!”
The Cavaliere gave a tragic shrug. “Eh! it is n’t an easy world.”
“You should do nothing to make it harder, then.”
“What will you have? It ‘s a magnificent marriage.”
“You disappoint me, Cavaliere,” said Rowland, solemnly. “I imagined you
appreciated the great elevation of Miss Light’s attitude. She does n’t
love the prince; she has let the matter stand or fall by that.”
The old man grasped him by the hand and stood a moment with averted
eyes. At last, looking at him, he held up two fingers.
“I have two hearts,” he said, “one for myself, one for the world. This
one opposes Miss Light, the other adores her! One suffers horribly at
what the other does.”
“I don’t understand double people, Cavaliere,” Rowland said, “and I
don’t pretend to understand you. But I have guessed that you are going
to play some secret card.”
“The card is Mrs. Light’s, not mine,” said the Cavaliere.
“It ‘s a menace, at any rate?”
“The sword of Damocles! It hangs by a hair. Christina is to be given ten
minutes to recant, under penalty of having it fall. On the blade there
is something written in strange characters. Don’t scratch your head; you
will not make it out.”
“I think I have guessed it,” Rowland said, after a pregnant silence. The
Cavaliere looked at him blankly but intently, and Rowland added, “Though
there are some signs, indeed, I don’t understand.”
“Puzzle them out at your leisure,” said the Cavaliere, shaking his hand.
“I hear Mrs. Light; I must go to my post. I wish you were a Catholic; I
would beg you to step into the first church you come to, and pray for us
the next half-hour.”
“For ‘us’? For whom?”
“For all of us. At any rate remember this: I worship the Christina!”
Rowland heard the rustle of Mrs. Light’s dress; he turned away, and the
Cavaliere went, as he said, to his post. Rowland for the next couple of
days pondered his riddle.
CHAPTER XI. Mrs. Hudson
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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