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Updated: June 28, 2025
The position was actually maddening, and I had never dreamed until then that even a woman who was bent on revenging what she conceived to be a gross injury to one of her own sex could be so utterly unreasonable and deaf to argument. "I repeat, madame," I declared, "that the Count Ruffiano has been betrayed to the enemy by this woman whose lies you accept as if they were gospel.
There were moderates and immoderates among them, men to whom the name of Carlo Alberto was an oriflamme, and others to whom it was the very signal of scorn and loathing. The count was calling the extremists of both schools together, and Ruffiano expostulated. "This is a time," said the count, addressing me, "at which we must sink all divisions.
It was not because I did not offer him my hand on this occasion, but he seemed not to see it, and I took it back again, resolved in my own mind not to be angry with him, and thinking it probable that he had some attack of his old infirmity of temper. "Ah, you are here!" cried Ruffiano, rising and half embracing him. "It is a pity you were not here earlier.
"You hear," said Brunow, turning, and Ruffiano, dragging his gaunt length out of the cab and stumbling with some difficulty to the rough, dark pavement, called out for a boat by all means. "I will see him but for a minute," he said; "but it will be better than nothing. I should be loath to make such a journey without result." "Find us a boat," said Brunow.
Quorn," he added, "is assured of our bona fides, and will be ready to start at any hour I may indicate." One or two of our number, I remember, endeavored to dissuade him from his plan, on the ground that we had need of his leadership in England, and that there were many things to be done there which could not be intrusted to hands of less authority. Ruffiano combated this opinion.
I could not understand the subject of discussion, for Ruffiano had immediately gone back to his native language, and there was something about Brunow's look which could hardly be accounted for by so trifling a misadventure as that which had just occurred. The instinct of the eye told him that I was looking at him, and he glanced at me and then suddenly averted his face.
The discussion did not last long, and it was so plainly to be seen from the beginning that the count was bent upon carrying out his own plan, and Brunow, Ruffiano, and I were so strongly of opinion that he had chosen the most useful course, that opposition vanished very early.
At a signal from Ruffiano he crossed over to us, and the droll old Quixote, with superabundant gesture, began to question him in Italian, the man answering, of course, in the same tongue. When they had talked together for four or five minutes Ruffiano turned upon me with his hands spread wide, and his face beaming with triumph. "You see," he said.
"Action," I retorted, "well matured and sane!" "Ah! yes, yes," cried Ruffiano; "again, dear sir, you correct me. That is why I am here. But do not think because I have no patience do not think because I am an old an old " He searched in his mind for a simile, and burst out with "gas-balloon" with a laugh of childish amusement at his own impetuosity.
"Well, Mascari," said the Prince, looking up towards his parasite, who stood by the embrasure of the deep-set barricaded window, "well, you cannot even guess who this insolent meddler was? A pretty person you to act the part of a Prince's Ruffiano!"
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