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Updated: June 9, 2025
There was a brief pause in which Lady O'Moy shuddered. She had been so near to betraying herself. How very quick and shrewd Sylvia was! She made, however, a good recovery. "Myself, of course. It is what I have thought myself. There is Count Samoval. He promised that if ever any such thing happened he would help me. And he assured me I could count upon him.
But when O'Moy, putting his fortunes to the test, had declared himself and been accepted by Una Butler, there had been an end to the jealousy, and the old relations of cordial friendship between the men had been resumed. O'Moy had conceived that jealousy of his to have been slain.
Samoval, now, was a person of even greater consequence, a close friend of several members of the Council. His death will be deeply resented, and may set up fresh difficulties. It is monstrous vexatious." And abruptly he asked "What did they quarrel about?" O'Moy trembled, and his glance avoided the other's gimlet eye.
You may publish my official assurance that the officer in question will be... shot when taken." "General, I thank you. My country thanks you. You may be confident of this issue." He bowed gravely to O'Moy and then to Tremayne. "Your Excellencies, I have the honour to wish you good-day."
But other things had happened since to revive his bitter doubts. Daily, constantly, had he been coming upon Tremayne and Lady O'Moy alone together in intimate, confidential talk which was ever silenced on his approach.
Words followed, and then some one Lady O'Moy, I think, and as I imagine with intent to soothe the feelings of Count Samoval, which appeared to be ruffled appealed to his vanity by mentioning the fact that he was himself a famous swordsman. To this Captain Tremayne's observation was a rather unfortunate one, although I must confess that I was fully in sympathy with it at the time.
"I think Samoval is becoming too attentive and too assiduous." "He is a dear," said Lady O'Moy. "That is what I mean," replied Sir Terence grimly. "He has undertaken that if there should be any trouble with the Portuguese Government about Dick's silly affair he will put it right." "Oh!" said O'Moy, "that was it?" And out of his tender consideration for her said no more.
O'Moy thought of them as he had seen them in the garden on the night of Redondo's ball, remembered the air of transparent honesty by which that damned hypocrite when discovered had deflected his just resentment. Oh, there was no doubt that the treacherous blackguard had been subtle. But by God! subtlety should be repaid with subtlety!
Complacently she discoursed upon the perfection of her own endowments, appealing ever and anon to her husband for confirmation, and O'Moy, who loved her with all the passionate reverence which Nature working inscrutably to her ends so often inspires in just such strong, essentially masculine men for just such fragile and excessively feminine women, afforded this confirmation with all the enthusiasm of sincere conviction.
"When I have settled other accounts, and put all my affairs in order, I shall save the provost-marshal the trouble of further seeking the slayer. And you didn't know then, Sylvia, when you lied so glibly to the court, that your future husband was innocent of that?" "I was always sure of it," she answered, and looked at Tremayne for explanation. O'Moy laughed again. "But he had not told you so.
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