Odo hesitated a moment. "Of that," said he, "I have no report. I am acquainted with the houses only as the residences of certain learned and reputable men, who devote their leisure to scientific studies." "Oh," she interrupted, "call them by what name you please! It is all one to your enemies." "My enemies?" said he lightly. "And who are they?" "Who are they?" she repeated impatiently. "Who are they not? Who is there at court that has such cause to love you? The Holy Office? The Duke's party?" Odo smiled. "I am perhaps not in the best odour with the Church party," said he, "but Count Trescorre has shown himself my friend, and I think my character is safe in his keeping. Nor will it be any news to him that I frequent the company you name." She threw back her head with a laugh. "Boy," she cried, "you are blinder even than I fancied! Do you know why it was that the Duke summoned you to Pianura? Because he wished his party to mould you to their shape, in case the regency should fall into your hands. And what has Trescorre done? Shown himself your friend, as you say--won your confidence, encouraged you to air your liberal views, allowed you to show yourself continually in the Bishop's company, and to frequent the secret assemblies of free thinkers and conspirators--and all that the Duke may turn against you and perhaps name him regent in your stead! Believe me, cousin," she cried with a mounting urgency, "you never stood in greater need of a friend than now. If you continue on your present course you are undone. The Church party is resolved to hunt down the Illuminati, and both sides would rejoice to see you made the scapegoat of the Holy Office." She sprung up and laid her hand on his arm. "What can I do to convince you?" she said passionately. "Will you believe me if I ask you to go away--to leave Pianura on the instant?" Odo had risen also, and they faced each other in silence. There was an unmistakable meaning in her tone: a self-revelation so simple and ennobling that she seemed to give herself as hostage for her words. "Ask me to stay, cousin--not to go," he whispered, her yielding hand in his. "Ah, madman," she cried, "not to believe me NOW! But it is not too late if you will still be guided." "I will be guided--but not away from you." She broke away, but with a glance that drew him after. "It is late now and we must set forward," she said abruptly. "Come to me tomorrow early. I have much more to say to you." The words seemed to be driven out on her quick breathing, and the blood came and went in her cheek like a hurried messenger. She caught up her riding-hat and turned to put it on before the Venice mirror. Odo, stepping up behind her, looked over her shoulder to catch the reflection of her blush. Their eyes met for a laughing instant; then he drew back deadly pale, for in the depths of the dim mirror he had seen another face. The Duchess cried out and glanced behind her. "Who was it? Did you see her?" she said trembling.