As he spoke he was struggling to his feet. He leaned without reserve on my shoulder, and this demonstration of confidence pleased me more than I can say. I helped him to his chair, and noticed that he walked away without any trace of a limp.
“So that was pretense too,” I said. “Was it after your accident that you got the idea of using a counterfeit infirmity to conceal the identity of the Falcon?”
“I will tell you my life history another time,” Stefano said. “At the present moment we have a more immediate problem. Can’t you do something about her appearance, Miss P.? If De Merode sees her so bedraggled, he will assume she has had another tête-à-tête with the Falcon, and he may drag her off to prison.”
So I made use of the basin and ewer in the adjoining bedchamber and straightened my hair, while I listened to the conversation going on in the next room. Though the situation was fraught with peril, I was filled with an emotion that was close to happiness. This new discovery was so right; it was like finding the proper fit for a dress that has pinched in an uncomfortable place. I returned to the next room in time to hear Miss Perkins say, “What are we to do with the Contessa?”
“There is no need to do anything with her,” Stefano replied. “Don’t you understand? In the next twenty-four hours the issue will be resolved. The uprising in Parezzo has been planned to coincide with risings in other cities—Urbino, Perugia, others. The papal mercenaries will fight, naturally; but there are not enough troops to handle a dozen different rebellions at once. That is why it is imperative that all the uprisings take place on schedule. Cavour will demand that the Pope dismiss his hired mercenaries. Pio Nono will refuse, and the Piedmontese will have the excuse they need to invade. Louis Napoleon has already agreed, secretly, not to interfere. Our people will be fighting on the side of Piedmont. At the very latest the Bersaglieri should be here within five days. But we need not wait so long to be safe. By tomorrow morning De Merode will be riding hell-for-leather toward Parezzo, and thereafter he won’t have the time or energy to worry about you here.”
Miss Perkins nodded. Her eyes were bright with excitement and admiration. Indeed, the daring, the skillful preparation of the plan was the cleverest thing I had ever heard.
“Wonderful,” I said. “But, Stefano, there is still tonight. I share Miss Perkins’ worries about the Captain. I have felt for a long time that we are underestimating him somehow. Can’t you get your men in Parezzo to strike at once?”
“Impossible. The plot depends on a dozen different people. I couldn’t reach them in time. In fact, I myself must start before midnight if I am to be there in time to lead the fighting.”
“You can’t go! You aren’t fit to ride, much less fight.”
“I must be there.” His lips set in a stubborn line.
“He is right,” Miss Perkins said reluctantly. “They rely on him and on his reputation. His presence will rally the peasants. And they need all the help they can get; De Merode’s men are the best trained, the best led in the province. Only Schmidt, in Perugia, has a greater reputation for ferocity.”
“Stefano!” A sudden thought struck me and turned me cold. “Are you sure De Merode does not know about the uprising in Parezzo?”
“I have arranged for him to receive a message from an ‘informer’ early in the morning,” Stefano replied. “I want him away from the castle as soon as possible. I share your distrust of him. But if he reaches Parezzo before the barricades are in place and the fortress is taken, our people will be in trouble.”
“What if a real informer has already told him?” I leaned across the desk and looked straight into his eyes. “What would happen to the rebellion if word got out that the Falcon had been arrested and shot?”
Miss Perkins struck the desk with her big fist.
“She is right! That is why De Merode is here today. He knows, I tell you; at least he has a strong suspicion. He means to trap you. But how did he find out?”
“The Contessa,” I said. “Oh, heavens, and it is all my fault! I told Galiana that Andrea was the Falcon. I had to tell her to keep her quiet; she knew where I had been that night. She swore she wouldn’t tell, but I suppose she would not think that oath included her mother…. But the Contessa was not deceived. I don’t know how she learned the truth…”
“I think I do,” Miss Perkins broke in. “But there isn’t time to explain now. You think the Contessa has been in touch with De Merode? Quite possible. But then he can’t act without her testimony. Perhaps we are safe after all.”
Just as she arrived at this comforting conclusion, there were sounds of a disturbance outside. Stefano snatched up his coat and struggled into it as the door of the library burst open. One of the footmen came stumbling in; he tried to speak, but was stopped by a savage blow from the soldier who had followed him. Other soldiers crowded through the doorway. Their leader—the red-haired Irishman I had seen before—saluted.
“The Captain requires your presence, Count,” he said. “And that of the ladies.”
“Was it necessary to enforce your request so violently?” Stefano inquired. It cost him an effort to speak coolly; his eyes flashed as he gazed at his servant, who was leaning against the door with his hands pressed to his face and blood trickling between his fingers.
“The man attempted to keep us out,” said the Irishman insolently. “He’ll be none the worse for a lesson in manners.”
“From you?” Stefano’s tone and his raised eyebrows turned the question into a subtle insult. He rose, leaning heavily on his cane. “Yes, I think I had better have a word with the Captain. But the ladies—”
“The Captain said everyone.”
The soldiers escorted us to the library, where two men stood guard with naked bayonets. The castle had been taken, like an enemy fortress. De Merode must be desperate, or very confident, to have given up all pretense at courtesy. That this was indeed the case I realized as soon as I saw Grandfather. His face was grayish white, with a strained, pinched look about the nostrils. He did not so much as glance at us when we entered. His eyes were fixed on his younger grandson.
Andrea stood between two soldiers who held him by the arms. His hands were bound behind his back, but he was the coolest person in the room; his head was high, his lips were curved in a smile. Never had he so closely resembled his brother.
Galiana ran to me. The tears were streaming down her cheeks.
“He knows,” she cried. “Francesca, he knows; but I did not speak, I swear—”
I put my arms around her. “Hush,” I murmured, hardly knowing what I said. “Hush, Galiana.”
De Merode turned to face us. His burning eyes passed over me and Miss Perkins as if we had been invisible. He looked directly at Stefano.
“This is a most distressing situation, Count,” he said. “I assumed you would wish to bid your brother farewell before we take him away.”
“Where are you taking him?” Stefano asked.
“To Parezzo.”
“I thought that was where he was,” Stefano said mildly. “You confuse me, Captain. My brother started out this morning in search of a doctor—”
“That is what you were told.” De Merode said. “I fear he deceived you, Count, as he deceived his honored grandfather and a good many other people. The city of Parezzo is supposed to rise in rebellion tonight, and Count Andrea is the leader of the revolt. How it grieves me to be the one to inform you of this blot on an otherwise stainless family name! Count Andrea—”
“He thinks I am the Falcon,” Andrea interrupted.
“How very naïve of him.” Stefano said.
“I don’t mind.” Andrea’s voice was quite calm. “Let the Captain concentrate his attentions on me; it will give the Falcon his chance to act. I am honored to serve, even in so small a role as this.”
“Andrea, you must learn not to be so theatrical.” Stefano said. “You are giving Captain De Merode the wrong impression. Captain, you are making a mistake.”
“Am I?”
