“It is certainly a pity Andrea was not here instead of me,” he agreed suavely. “He would have challenged De Merode and been neatly killed in the process. It must be such a comfort to the survivors of these gallant imbeciles to know that they died honorably, defending a maiden—even an arrogant outspoken maiden like Francesca. It would have served her right if De Merode had turned her over his knee.”
Grandfather was quivering with rage. “I only regret now that I did not assist this man who calls himself the Falcon. At least he is a man, not a smooth-tongued coward!”
Clutching his gray hair in both hands, he went rushing out of the room. The others followed, Galiana leaning against her mother, Miss Rhoda with bowed head. Stefano remained seated, balancing his stick across his hands.
“He didn’t mean it,” I said. “He is frightened and angry, or he would never have said it.”
“Thank you for explaining the Prince to me,” said Stefano. “If you expect me to be equally noble—to say that I insulted you because I was distracted by worry—I am afraid you will be disappointed. I am not at all distracted, and I had excellent reasons for speaking as I did.”
“Oh. you are impossible.” I cried. “You have no heart, no feelings!”
Miss Perkins, who had been sitting quietly in a corner the whole time, rose and put out her hand, but I rushed past her. I was not going to give Stefano the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
It was a terrible day. We were like a household waiting for news from the battlefield. I tried to find Galiana, feeling that she was in need of all the verbal fortification I could render, but when I knocked at the door of the suite she and her mother occupied, Bianca would not let me in. She blocked the doorway like a black granite boulder. When I asked if she would at least tell Galiana I wanted to see her she shook her head and made the hoarse cawing sounds she used only when she was greatly agitated.
Miss Perkins was not to be found either. She and Galiana were the only ones I wanted to talk with, so I spent the rest of the day trying to find them and avoid the others. I took my meals in my room, sending word by Teresa that I was too unwell to come down. God knows I was unwell; I felt as if I were in a fever, alternately shaken by fits of shivering and by such restless impatience that I paced the floor of my room like a caged animal.
Miss Perkins finally came to me late that evening and insisted that I take a dose of laudanum to make me sleep. I agreed, on condition that she would do the same.
“You look terrible,” I said. “What have you been doing all day?”
“Worrying. A futile exercise, I agree. There is still no news. That is hopeful, I think.”
“I need more than hope, I need facts. What of Piero? I looked for him today, but could not find him. You don’t suppose De Merode has arrested him?”
“Oh, no, Piero has been at his usual duties. I tried to question him, but he pretended he did not understand my Italian.”
She looked so indignant I had to laugh feebly, and she went on, “He is a clever and loyal man; obviously he could admit nothing, he doesn’t know whether I can be trusted. Besides. Francesca, we know all we need to know. De Merode searched the tomb and the Falcon was not there. You may be sure he has found a safe hiding place, or he would have been captured by now.”
We went on reassuring one another in this way until the medicine began to take effect and I thought perhaps I could sleep. Miss Perkins stayed with me that night. I was in no mood to be alone.
IV
In any crisis one believes that life is unendurable; yet one can become accustomed to anything, even to constant uncertainty. Two days passed in the same way, and our nerves began to relax. They had to; it would have been impossible for them to remain at such a high pitch of tension.
I managed to catch up with Galiana, who swore she had not spoken. Of all of us she seemed the most affected. Her nerves were so strained she would jump at the slightest sound. Stefano stayed sulking in his house; Miss Rhoda reverted to her usual cold control; and Grandfather refused to discuss the subject.
He had enough to worry him in the political news, which continued bad—for him. Garibaldi was advancing on Naples, and the peasants in Calabria were welcoming him with open arms. At any time we expected to hear that the weak Bourbon king, Francis II, had fled the capital and that Garibaldi had entered in triumph. In our own area, rumors of rebellion were all about. De Merode’s troops were arresting every stranger on suspicion of being a Piedmontese agent. One unfortunate merchant of Turin had been detained for three days in the fortress at Parezzo before he was able to prove his innocence. The incident created a stir, since the man’s family was of some consequence, but it was evidence of De Merode’s increasing mania.
In the midst of the furor Andrea came home.
We were sitting in the drawing room after dinner and I was at the pianoforte. Stefano had joined us for the first time in several days, but he had refused to play; so, in an effort to relieve the gloomy atmosphere, I had gone to the instrument myself. I was stumbling through a Verdi aria when the doors burst open and Andrea entered.
While the others stared, he came straight to me, scooped me up in his arms and kissed me soundly on both cheeks.
“I salute the heroine of the day! You look quite healthy and blooming, Cousin, for a young lady who has faced the mighty Falcon himself!”
It was all I could do not to throw my arms around his neck and return his kisses, I was so relieved to see him. He was blooming and healthy-looking too; apparently his injury had been less serious than I had supposed. Aware of the watching eyes of the others, I said primly, “Andrea, I think you had better put me down.”
My smile and my sparkling eyes belied my words. I knew Andrea understood my real feelings—some of them, at any rate. Did he still believe me to be unwitting? If so, I was willing to continue the game; I would never initiate the subject, but would wait for him to drop the first hint. But oh, how I longed to tell him of my relief, my affection!
Andrea obeyed, with a smile and a wink. Then he went straight to Grandfather and kissed him, as is the endearing Italian custom. The Prince was too moved on this occasion to do anything but return the embrace heartily. He stood smiling and blinking while Andrea made the rounds, greeting the others. He would have embraced his brother too, but Stefano put him off with the point of his stick, and remarked calmly:
“Your exuberance is too much for an invalid like myself, Andrea. Welcome home. You missed the excitement, but I see you have heard of Francesca’s adventure. Or should I call it a misadventure?”
“But the province is ringing with it,” Andrea exclaimed. “Such wild stories! You must tell me how it really was, Cousin. Did you confront the Falcon with his own pistol until you could escape?”
He stood with his feet apart and his hands on hips, his blue eyes twinkling. It was almost impossible for me to reconcile this vision of manly health and vigor with the fallen hero whose helpless head had rested on my breast…And at that thought I began to blush so furiously that Andrea burst out laughing.
“Ah, I have offended her modesty. Forgive me. Cousin. But you are famous; the report of your adventures has gone even to Florence.”
“Then you were in Florence?” Stefano asked dryly.
Andrea’s eyes shifted.
“And other places…. I have been very dull, I promise you. Tell me what you have all been doing.”
“Andrea, I must talk to you,” Grandfather said.
“I am listening, your Excellency.”
“Come to the library. You too, Stefano. For once,” Grandfather said irritably, “I would like to have a serious discussion without a pack of women interfering.”
He stalked from the room. Andrea smiled and followed. Stefano pushed himself up out of his chair and limped after them.
“Well!” said Miss Rhoda indignantly.
V
I was unable to speak to Andrea alone next day, he was rushing around so, and in fact I felt flustered and embarrassed at the very idea. How could I speak freely when there was so much we had to conceal, even from each other? He had come to mean so much to me, yet I did not know whether he shared my feelings. He did not even owe me gratitude. After what he had done for me, the least I could do was protect his identity. I longed to be with him, and at the same time I was shy with him.
There was no need for me to warn him. Grandfather had told him of De Merode’s hints. According to Miss Perkins, who knew everything that went on—perhaps because she unabashedly gossiped with the servants—according to her, Andrea had responded to this news with a shout of laughter and a statement to the effect that De Merode did him too much honor. He only wished he could claim the credit of being the Falcon. Unfortunately he could not.
