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He looked like a man terrified out of his senses, and I remembered the fact afterwards, when I found that one tablet had been stolen; but at the time I attributed it all to his fear of facing you. Now we know the truth. He tried to murder you, and on the same day he poisoned your mother." Kalmon sat quite still when he had finished, and for a long time Marcello did not move, and made no sound.
She begged Marcello to go and get some rest. Her voice was very weak, as if she were suffocating, and she coughed painfully. He did not like to go away, but Kalmon promised to call him at midnight; he had been in the room six hours, scarcely moving from his seat. He lingered at the door, looked back, and at last went out. "Will she come?" asked Regina, when he was gone. "In half an hour.
Ercole's heavy boots rang on the polished floor as he obeyed and came up to the table. He looked gloomily and suspiciously at both men. "Well?" said Kalmon, encouraging him to speak. "He is still in Rome," Ercole answered. "How do I know it?
She was a little pale, not knowing what was to come, yet feeling somehow that it was to make a great difference to her ever afterwards. She glanced at her mother, and the Contessa smiled gently, as much as to say that she was doing right, but neither spoke. Presently Kalmon came out with the Sister of Charity, who bent her head gravely to the two ladies.
They sat down again, and Kalmon told Marcello the sailor's story of what his captain had seen from the deck of the brigantine. Marcello listened gravely. "I remember that there was a small vessel very far in," he said. "Aurora will remember it, too, for she watched it and spoke of it. We thought it must run aground on the bar, it was so very near." "Yes. She remembers it, too.
"My dear friend!" cried Kalmon, almost angrily. "How can you suggest " She turned her clear, sad eyes to him, and her look cut short his speech. "What has her sin been?" she asked gently. "She has loved Marcello. What was mine? That I loved one man too well. Which is the better woman?
During the last twelve hours Corbario had been forcing himself to decide that he would go to the hospital and know the worst at once, but now that the moment was come he could not do it. He was walking slowly through the outer hall of the station when a large man came up with him and greeted him quietly. It was Professor Kalmon. Corbario started at the sound of his voice.
When the carriage was out of sight, Kalmon looked up at the hot sky and down at the flagstones, and then made up his mind what to do. "To the hospital of San Giovanni," he said, as he got into a cab.
"Kalmon," he said at last, and the Professor stopped short in his walk. "Kalmon, do you think she knows?" It was like the cry of a child, but it came from a man who was already strong. Kalmon could only shake his head gravely; he could find nothing to say in answer to such a question, and yet he was too human and kind and simple-hearted not to understand the words that rose to Marcello's lips.
They saw that she was not yet any better; the doctor ordered several things to be done and went away. Kalmon drew Marcello out of the room. "You can do nothing," he said. "She has good care, and she is very strong. Go home and come back in the morning." "I must stay here," Marcello answered. "That is out of the question, on account of the Sister of Charity.
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