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For nothing happened. Corbario did not launch into wild extravagance after all, but behaved himself with the faultless dulness of a model middle-aged husband. His wife loved him and was perfectly happy, and happiness finally stole her superfluous years away, and they evaporated in the sunshine, and she forgot all about them.
When people remonstrated with Folco Corbario for allowing his stepson too much liberty, he shook his head gravely and answered that he did what he could to keep Marcello in the right way, but that the boy's intellect had been shaken by the terrible accident, and that he had undoubtedly developed vicious tendencies probably atavistic, Folco added. Why did Folco allow him to have so much money?
"Your fault? For heaven's sake tell me what the matter is, and let us be done with it!" "Corbario wanted to get possession of your whole fortune. That is why he tried to kill you." "Yes. Is that all? You have made me understand that already." "He had conceived the plan before your mother's death," said Kalmon. "That would not surprise me either. But how do you know it?"
It is as if the blood went to my head, and my nerves are all on edge, and I wish something would happen, I don't know what, but something, something!" "I know exactly what you mean, my dear boy," said Corbario in a tone of sympathy. "You see I am not very old myself, after all barely thirty not quite, in fact. I could call myself twenty-nine if it were not so much more respectable to be older."
Worse than that, there would be a long inquiry to show that Corbario had murdered his mother. Skilled surgeons were tending the man's wounds and reviving him by every means that science could suggest. Kalmon said that he might live. He was being kept alive in order to be condemned to the expiation of his crimes in penal servitude, since Italian law could not make him pay for them with his life.
"Of course there is a possibility that he may have had some object in deceiving your coachman by driving to the railway station, but it is not at all likely. He probably took the first train to the north." "But he can be stopped at the frontier!" "Do you think Corbario is the man to let himself be trapped easily if he knows that he is pursued?" asked Kalmon incredulously. "I do not."
When the widow of Martino Consalvi married young Corbario, people shook their heads and said that she was making a great mistake. Consalvi had been dead a good many years, but as yet no one had thought it was time to say that his widow was no longer young and beautiful, as she had always been.
But she held her tongue, and her quiet face never betrayed her thoughts. She only watched, and noted from month to month certain small signs which seemed to prove her right; and she should be ready, whenever the time should come, by day or night, to help her friend, or comfort her, or fight for her. If Corbario guessed that the Contessa did not trust him, he never showed it.
Aurora left his side and looked about, going to a little distance from the gap, first on one side and then on the other. "It is as if the wind had done it on purpose!" she cried impatiently. "It is as smooth as if it had all been swept with a gardener's broom." Corbario turned, lighted his extinguished cigar, and watched her, as she moved about, stooping now and then to examine the sand.
"I thought," said Corbario, almost carelessly, "that there was no longer any such thing as a poison that left no traces or signs. Can you not generally detect vegetable poisons by the mode of death?" "Yes," answered the Professor, returning the glass tube to its case and the latter to his pocket.
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