Time had no meaning in the stifling darkness. It might have been an hour later, or ten minutes, or a century, before I forced the slab open once again.
The worst of the storm had passed, but rain was still falling steadily. I waited for some time, listening, till I was sure the soldiers had gone. Then I crept out. I was careful to be sure the catch was wedged before I pushed the slab back into place, so that it could be opened from the inside—just in case.
I had not gone twenty feet before my soaked skirts were clinging to me, making every step an effort. I had removed my hoops before leaving the tomb. I wondered morbidly what excavators of a future generation would make of those peculiar objects, supposing that they found them centuries from now.
I knew the way back to the castello, but this was the first time I had traversed it on foot. I had not realized it was so far. Nor had I been fully cognizant of the difficulty of the terrain. Running water turned every slope into a stream of mud. My fragile slippers gave no traction; I slipped back two feet for every foot I gained, and my hands were soon scored and bleeding from the branches I grasped in order to pull myself up. It was a nightmare journey, and the need for haste made it seem even longer.
How long could an injured man survive in that dank, airless chamber, without food or medical aid? I had to leave him there, I had no choice. All my efforts to revive him had been in vain. I knew where the candles were, but I was afraid to light one. The slab seemed tight, but a slit of light might betray his presence to searchers. He was safe from capture there, but he needed help and I was the only one who could bring it. Blankets, I thought, inching my way up a brambly slope. Blankets and hot soup; fresh bandages, food…. How I would get these things to him I could not imagine, but I would have to do it somehow. I could trust no one—except Miss Perkins.
I believe her name was my last coherent thought. After that it was a delirium of rain and mud and thorny branches.
When I reached the lowest terrace of the gardens, the rain had stopped and a single star was visible through the rent clouds to the west. I stood there swaying with fatigue, and stared stupidly at the brilliant point of light. Then I saw that the castle was illuminated like a building on a festal day. Every window was ablaze.
So numbed was I by worry and physical discomfort that I might have failed to understand the significance of this unusual illumination. By a stroke of luck, the man in the shadow of the clipped yew moved so that I saw him before he saw me. The shape of his cap silhouetted against the sky told me all I needed to know. I dropped down behind a tree, my heart racing.
The castello had been invaded and occupied. All very suavely and courteously, no doubt; De Merode could not arouse Grandfather’s open hostility. His excuse would be that he wanted to protect the inhabitants against the dangerous criminal still at large. How much did he know? I wondered. How much was only suspicion? And—more to the point—how many men were there hiding in the gardens? The Captain seemed to have an endless number of soldiers at his disposal; a ridiculous number to employ in the capture of a single local rebel. Of course De Merode was obsessed. His elusive adversary had become a personal threat. But he must have powerful connections in Rome to have acquired so many reinforcements.
Avoiding graveled paths and paved surfaces, I crawled on hands and knees through the wet grass. I had no plan in mind, only an instinctive need to avoid capture until I had time to decide what to do.
Below, and to my right, I saw the curious little towers of the garden house—Stefano’s retreat. Stefano…. Surely he would help if he knew the seriousness of the situation. If I could reach him, I would sound him out, test him…I suspected there was some antagonism in his feelings toward Andrea, but family honor, if not affection, would surely dictate that he come to his brother’s aid. It was worth a try. It was the only scheme I could think of.
I was shivering violently by then with terror and cold. The night air was cool after the rain, and it chilled my drenched body. My teeth began to chatter. I clapped my hand over my mouth to stop the sound, but it was too late. A dark form leaped over the wall and enveloped me in a crushing embrace.
“Signorina!” The whisper came just in time to stop me from screaming. “Signorina, sono io, sono Piero—non gridare, per l’amore de Dio—i soldati…”
“Piero.” I clung to him, gasping for breath. “I must see the Count—take me to him.”
He shook me till the coils of my wet hair smothered my breath.
“Dov’ è lui? Where is he? Quickly, signorina, tell me!”
“In the tomb.” I whispered. “La tomba della principessa.
The bruising hands left my shoulders and I dropped panting to the ground. Piero was gone as silently as he had come.
He had not given me time to think; but if I had had time, I still would not have known what to do. It was done now. Either I had saved the Falcon or I had betrayed him, and only time would tell which.
II
An hour later I was beginning to hope that I had done the right thing after all. If Piero meant to betray Andrea, he would have gone straight to the Captain; and obviously De Merode was still waiting for news. I could hear him storming up and down outside the door of my sitting room.
I had walked straight into the house after Piero left me. If I had wanted to avoid the soldiers, I probably would have been caught at once. As it was, I managed to reach the terrace before anyone saw me. Then two of them converged on me with shouts and brandished muskets. I let out a piercing shriek and sank to the ground.
The pretended faint gave me time to think. Even after I had been “restored to consciousness,” I continued to babble and sob hysterically. As a footman carried me upstairs, dripping water all over his neat uniform, I heard Grandfather shouting at the soldiers, and their protestations. They had not touched me, they had not even recognized me at first. And no wonder. Miss Perkins let out a cry of horror when she saw me. As she told me later, she had never seen a more wretched-looked creature.
She and Teresa flew into action. Gallons of hot water, warm clothing, brandy, medicines internal and external. As soon as I was tucked into bed, Grandfather burst in and bent over me.
“My child! What happened? Can she speak?” he demanded, turning to Miss Perkins. “Is she…. Has she…?”
I knew what he meant. Most girls know, although they are supposed to be ignorant of such things, and I had had one especially illuminating experience. The idea enraged me—not the idea of being ravished, but the fact that this was the foremost worry in Grandfather’s mind. Men act as if we are pieces of property, I thought disgustedly. If the vase is cracked or the diamond flawed, it loses its value.
Miss Perkins tried to reassure the agitated old man, telling him that my injuries were superficial.
“But we—I must know what has happened to her!”
“No, no, she cannot speak, she is too badly hurt,” said Miss Perkins, with magnificent inconsistency.
“I think I can talk a little,” I mumbled, trying at the same time to look exhausted and to reassure Miss Perkins, by a meaningful look, that I knew what I was doing. “Is—is it the Captain I hear outside?”
“He cannot come in here,” cried Miss Perkins. “You are in bed, in your nightgown.”
She was right. I dared not face De Merode’s cutting intelligence just then. But there was something I wanted to say; one last thing that might help.
“Tell him,” I whispered. I held out a frail, trembling hand to Grandfather. “Tell him….”
“Yes, my dear child.” He pressed my hand. His eyes were wet.
“He captured me…. The Falcon….”
Grandfather gritted his teeth.
“If he dared to lay hands upon you…!”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I began angrily, and then remembered that I was supposed to be weak with shock. “No; no, he did not…. But he made me go with him—as a hostage. He released me near the quarry, on the road to Parezzo. It took me so long to get here, I was afraid, and it was raining…”
I began to sob noisily. Grandfather squeezed my hand till I wanted to shriek with pain. Then he ran out. I heard him talking to someone in the outer room; both of them rushed out and the door slammed.
The place I had mentioned was as far to the north of the castle as the Etruscan cemetery was to the south. I had made my story as vague as possible, since I didn’t know what my unfortunate groom had told the authorities; but if De Merode believed me he would send his men in the wrong direction, and Piero would have a chance to reach his leader.
There were too many imponderables in the plan, but it was the best I could do. I had flung my arm over my face to conceal the fact that my sobs were not accompanied by tears; I was far too anxious to cry just then. Now I peered out from under my sleeve and saw Galiana standing at the foot of the bed. I had not noticed her before, but it was not surprising that she should be there. She was attracted by excitement as a moth is by light.
