Bellarion the Fortunate. Rafael Sabatini

they did not abandon their plan of murder? I was your deputy, no more. When I presented myself as Facino Cane’s adopted son I was readily believed—because the Regent cared little whether it were true or not, since in me he perceived the very agent that he needed.’

      ‘Ah, now at last we have something that does not strain belief.’

      ‘Will it strain belief that the Regent was already fully informed of this conspiracy?’

      ‘What!’

      ‘Why else should he have trusted or believed me? Of his own knowledge he knew that what I told him was true.’

      ‘He knew and he held his hand?’ Again the question was made scornful by unbelief.

      ‘Because he lacked evidence that you, and, through you, your brother, were parties to the plot. What to him are Barbaresco’s shabby crew? It is the Marquis Gian Giacomo who must be removed in such a manner as not to impair the Lord Regent’s credit. To gather evidence am I now sent.’

      She tore an ostrich-plume from her fan in her momentary passion.

      ‘You do not hesitate to confess how you betray each in turn; Barbaresco to the Regent; the Regent to me; and now, no doubt, me to the Regent.’

      ‘As for the last, madonna, to betray you I need not now be here. I could have supplied the Regent with all the evidence he needs against you at the same time that I supplied the evidence against the others.’

      She was silent, turning it over in her mind. And because her mind was acute, she saw the proof his words afforded. But because afraid, she mistrusted proof.

      ‘It may be part of the trap,’ she complained. ‘If it were not, why should you remain after denouncing my friends? The aims you pretend would have been fully served by that.’

      His answer was prompt and complete.

      ‘If I had departed, you would never have known the answer of those men whom you trust, nor would you have known that there is a Judas amongst them already. It was necessary to warn you.’

      ‘Yes,’ she said slowly. ‘I see, I think.’ And then in sudden revolt against the conviction he was forcing upon her, and in tones which if low were vehement to the point of fierceness: ‘Necessary!’ she cried, echoing the word he had used. ‘Necessary! How was it necessary? Whence this necessity of yours? A week ago you did not know me. Yet for me, who am nothing to you, whose service carries no reward, you pretend yourself prepared to labour and to take risks involving even your very life. That is what you ask me to believe. You suppose me mad, I think.’

      As she faced him now, she fancied that a smile broke upon that face so indistinctly seen. His voice, as he answered her, was very soft.

      ‘It is not mad to believe in madness. Madness exists, madonna. Set me down as suffering from it. The air of the world is proving too strong and heady, perhaps, for one bred in cloisters. It has intoxicated me, I think.’

      She laughed chillingly. ‘For once you offer an explanation that goes a little lame. Your invention is failing, sir.’

      ‘Nay, lady; my understanding,’ he answered sadly.

      She set a hand upon his arm. He felt it quivering there, which surprised him almost as much as the change in her voice, now suddenly halting and unsteady.

      ‘Messer Bellarion, if my suspicions wound you, set them down to my distraction. It is so easy, so dangerously easy, to believe what we desire to believe.’

      ‘I know,’ he said gently. ‘Yet when you’ve slept on what I’ve said, you’ll find that your safety lies in trusting me.’

      ‘Safety! Am I concerned with safety only? To-night you saw my brother . . .’

      ‘I saw. If that is Messer Castruccio’s work . . .’

      ‘Castruccio is but a tool. Come, sir. We talk in vain.’ She began to move along the terrace towards her waiting ladies. Suddenly she paused. ‘I must trust you, Ser Bellarion. I must or I shall go mad in this ugly tangle. I’ll take the risk. If you are not true, if you win my trust only to abuse it and work the evil will of the Regent, then God will surely punish you.’

      ‘I think so, too,’ he breathed.

      ‘Tell me now,’ she questioned, ‘what shall you say to my uncle?’

      ‘Why, that I have talked with you fruitlessly; that either you have no knowledge of Barbaresco or else you withheld it from me.’

      ‘Shall you come again?’

      ‘If you desire it. The way is open now. But what remains to do?’

      ‘You may discover that.’ Thus she conveyed that, having resolved to give him her trust, she gave it without stint.

      They came back into the hall, where stiff and formally Bellarion made his valedictory bow, then went to take his leave of the Regent.

      The Regent disengaged himself from the group of which he was the centre, and, taking Bellarion by the arm, drew him apart a little.

      ‘I have made a sounding,’ Bellarion informed him. ‘Either she mistrusts me, or else she knows nothing of Barbaresco.’

      ‘Be sure of the former, sir,’ said the Regent softly. ‘Procure credentials from Barbaresco, and try again. It should be easy, so.’