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In the midst of all this, which was poured forth with extreme volubility, the servant came and handed a card. "Count Girasole." At any other time Mrs. Willoughby would perhaps have manoeuvred Minnie out of the room; but on the present occasion the advent of the Italian was an inexpressible relief. Mrs. Willoughby was not prepared for a scene like this.
At any rate, you are altogether in the wrong when you say he is dead." "Dead! He is dead! I swear it!" cried Girasole, whose manner was a little toned down by Minnie's coolness. "This is getting to be awfully funny, you know," said Minnie. "I really think we don't know what one another is talking about. I'm sure I don't, and I'm sure he don't, either; does he, Ethel darling?"
He heard the words of the priest, his calm denial of treachery, his quiet appeal to Girasole's good sense. Then he heard the decision of Girasole, and the party walked away with their prisoners, and he was left alone. Alone! At any other time it would have been a terrible thing thus to be left alone in such a place, but now to him who was thus imprisoned it afforded a great relief.
He therefore was compelled to remain in one position, and threw himself down upon the straw on his side, with his face to the wall, for he found that position easier than any other. In this way he lay for some time, until at length he was roused by the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs. Several people were passing his room. He heard the voice of Girasole. He listened with deep attention.
As she concluded a faint smile passed over his face. The Baron watched him attentively. "I know no brigand on dissa road," said he. Lady Dalrymple looked triumphantly at the others. "I have travail dissa road many time. No dangaire alla safe." Another smile from Lady Dalrymple. The Count Girasole looked at Hawbury and then at the Baron, with a slight dash of mockery in his face.
"The Hotel Pension Beau Soleil, Rue Girasole, in the Condamine, Monte Carlo," answered the child, as if she were repeating a lesson she had been taught to rattle off by heart. Lost as he was to most external things, Hugh roused himself to some surprise at the name of the hotel. "Why, that is where Mademoiselle de Lavalette and her mother live!" he exclaimed.
But all these thoughts and ravings were destined to come to a full and sudden stop, and to be changed to others of a far different character. This change took place when Girasole, after visiting the ladies, came, with Mrs. Willoughby, to his room.
He lived close by; every step of the country was no doubt familiar to him; he had come to the camp under very suspicious circumstances, bringing with him a stranger in disguise. He had given plausible answers to the cross-questioning of Girasole; but those were empty words, which went for nothing in the presence of the living facts that now stood before him in the presence of the enemy.
The only offset to all this was his own captivity, but that was a very serious one. Besides, he knew that his life hung upon a thread. Before the next day Girasole would certainly discover all, and in that case he was a doomed man.
Suddenly it flashed across Ethel's mind that the speaker was Girasole, and that the words were addressed to her. Her impression was correct, and the speaker was Girasole. He had heard the sibilant sounds of the whispering, and, knowing that Minnie could not speak Italian, it had struck him as being a very singular thing that she should be whispering. Had her sister joined her?
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