Each was conscious, no doubt, that the other was making a great effort, but neither of them referred to the matter again that night. They talked of all manner of subjects, rather nervously and resolutely at first, then naturally and easily as ever, when the deep sympathy which existed between them had a.s.serted itself. During two hours, at least, they nearly forgot what had so violently moved them both.
When Arden laid his head upon his pillow, his anger had not subsided, but he knew that his love had taken greater strength and depth than ever before. He spent a sleepless night indeed, but when he rose in the morning he did not feel tired. Something within him which was quite new seemed to sustain him and nourish him. He could not tell whether it was love for Laura, or anger against the woman who slandered her, or both acting at once, and he did not waste much time in speculating upon his mental condition. He had formed a resolution upon which he meant to act without delay.
It was a rainy morning, chilly and raw again, as the weather had been earlier in the year.
"Give me warm clothes, Donald," he said to his man. "I am going out."
"Going out, my lord! In this weather!" Donald"s face expressed the greatest anxiety.
"Never mind the weather," said Arden. "Give me warm clothes, and send for a closed carriage."
Donald obeyed, shaking his head, and muttering in detached expressions of disapproval. He was a privileged person.
CHAPTER VIII.
Arden, for the first time in his life, paid no attention to Laura"s remonstrances when she tried to prevent him from going out in the rain, and he would not hear of her accompanying him on any condition. He a.s.sured her that with his fur coat, and in a closed carriage with a foot-warmer, he was as safe as at home in the drawing-room, and he gave her to understand that he had a small surprise in store for her, of which all the effect would be spoiled if she went with him. Very reluctantly she let him go. Even after he was gone, when she heard the brougham rattling down the Via Gregoriana, she was tempted to open the window and call the driver back. Then she reflected that she was probably foolish in being so anxious, since he now seemed almost as well as ever.
When he left the house, Arden drove to a certain studio, and then and there bought a small picture which Laura had admired very much, and had been two or three times to see. To the artist"s surprise, he insisted upon carrying it away with him at once, just as it was. Then he told the coachman to drive to the Palazzo Savelli. He sent up his card and asked to see Don Francesco, and at once received an answer, begging him to go up stairs.
Francesco was very much surprised by the visit, and could not conceive what had brought Lord Herbert Arden to him at eleven o"clock in the morning. He awaited him in a vast and gloomy drawing-room in which there was no fire. The walls were hung with old portraits of the Savelli in armour, the carpet was of a sombre hue, and the furniture consisted of three superb marble tables with carved and gilt feet, and sixteen chairs of the style of Louis the Fourteenth"s reign, all precisely alike, and standing side by side against the walls. Francesco Savelli stood facing the door, his yellow hair, blue eyes, and fresh complexion contrasting strongly with the dark background. He was a fine-looking fellow, with a mild face, a quiet manner, and a good deal of old-fashioned formality, which latter, however, seemed to wear off every evening in society, coming back as soon as he returned to the dim and shadowy halls of his home.
The connexion between him and Arden was in reality so distant, that they had never a.s.sumed even the outward forms of intimacy, though their wives called each other sister. Savelli disliked Lord Herbert because he was a cripple, and chiefly because he had married Laura Carlyon. Arden, on his side, was more or less indifferent to Francesco, but treated him always with a shade more warmth than an ordinary acquaintance, as being, in a sense, a member of his wife"s family.
Savelli came forward as Arden entered. The servant allowed the heavy curtain to drop, closed the door, and went out, and the two men were left alone.
"Good morning, my dear Arden," said Savelli, taking his hand. "I hope you are quite well. Pray be seated."
"Good morning. Thanks." Both spoke in French.
They sat down, side by side, on the stiff, high-backed gilt chairs, and each looked at the other.
"I have something especial to say to you," began Arden, in his calm and even voice--a man quicker-witted than Savelli would have noticed the look of determination about the smooth-shaven lips and the prominent chin--the look of a man who will not be trifled with, and will say what he means in spite of all difficulties and all opposition.
"I am entirely at your service," answered Don Francesco, politely.
"Thanks. I have thought it best to come to you directly, because my business concerns your wife and mine, and it is better that we should settle such matters between us without the intervention of others."
Savelli opened his eyes in surprise, but said nothing, only making a slight inclination of the head in answer. Arden continued in the cool and collected manner with which he had begun.
"A number of outrageous lies," he said slowly, "are in circulation concerning my wife, and some of them concern myself. May I inquire whether you have heard them?"
"It would facilitate matters, if you would tell me something of their nature," observed Savelli, more and more astonished.
"There is no difficulty about that. I can even repeat them to you, word for word, or nearly so. It is said, in the first place, that my wife is very much in love with you--"
"With me?" cried Savelli, startled out of his formality for once.
"Yes--with you--and that she has loved you long. Secondly, it is said that I am a confirmed drunkard, and that my wife leads a most unhappy existence with me in consequence. It is further stated that she makes no secret of this supposed fact, but complains loudly to her friends, and especially selects you for her confidence in the matter."
"That is totally untrue," said Don Francesco, gravely. "She has never spoken of you to me except in terms of the highest praise."
"I am aware that it is not true, but I am much obliged to you for your very plain statement. I will go on. It is a.s.serted that my wife has given you to understand that she loves you, and that, if you would consent, she would be ready to leave me and Rome in your company. These things, it appears, are current gossip, and are confidently stated as positive truths."
"I have not heard any of them, except some vague reports about yourself, to the effect that you once took too much wine at the Gerano"s house.
But Ghisleri made a scene about it at the club, and I have heard no more of the absurd story."
"I did not know that Ghisleri had actively taken my part," answered Arden. "But the story has now reached the form in which I repeated it.
For myself, I care very little. It is on account of its connexion with the tales about my wife that I have told it to you."
"May I ask who your informant is?"
"My wife."
"And hers?"
"A reliable and truthful person, whom I shall not name at present. The affair concerns you and me. I have not come to the most important point, which will explain why I came to you."
"I supposed that you came, as to a connexion of the family, to ask advice or a.s.sistance."
"No. That is not it. I do not need either, thank you. I come to you because all these stories are distinctly traceable to Donna Adele Savelli."
Francesco started violently, and almost rose from his seat, his face flushing suddenly.
"Lord Herbert--take care!" he cried in a loud and angry voice, and with a pa.s.sionate gesture.
"Be calm," said Arden, in an unnaturally quiet tone. "If you strike me, you will be disgraced for life, because I am a cripple. But I a.s.sure you that I am not in the least afraid of you."
"You are wrong!" exclaimed Savelli, still furious, and turning upon him savagely.
"Not at all," returned the Englishman, unmoved. "I came here to settle this business, and I have not the smallest intention of going away until I have said all I meant to say. After that, if you are inclined to demand satisfaction of me, as is the custom here, you can do so. I will consider the matter. I shall probably not exchange shots with you, because I believe that duelling is wrong. But let me say that I do not in the least mean to insult you, nor, as I think, have I been lacking in civility to-day. I have given you a number of facts which I have every reason for believing to be true. You will in all likelihood have no difficulty in finding out whether they are true or not. If we, jointly, are convinced that the statements are false, I shall be happy to offer you my best apologies; if not, and if you are convinced that Donna Adele has been slandering my wife, I shall expect you to act upon your conviction, as a man of honour should, and take measures to have these reports instantly and fully denied everywhere by Donna Adele herself. I think I have stated the case plainly, and what I have said ought not to offend you, in my opinion."
"It is certainly impossible to be more plain," answered Savelli, regaining something of his outward calm. "As to what may or may not give offence, opinions may differ in England and in Italy."
"They probably do," returned Arden, coolly. "It is not my intention to offend you."
Francesco Savelli looked at the shrunken figure and the thin hands with an odd sensation of repulsion and respect. He had been very far from supposing that Herbert Arden possessed such undeniable courage and imperturbable coolness, and not being by any means a coward himself, he could not help admiring bravery in others. He was none the less angry, however, though he made a great effort to keep his temper. He did not love his wife, but he had all the Roman traditions concerning the sacredness of the family honour, which he now felt was really at stake, and he had all a Roman"s dread of a public scandal.
"I must beg you once more to tell me by whom these stories were told to Lady Herbert," he said, after a pause.
"I cannot do so, without consulting that person," answered Arden. "I do not wish to drag other people into the affair. You will be able to find out for yourself, and probably through members of your own family, how much truth there is in it all."
"You positively refuse to tell me?"
"I have said so. If you wish to be confronted with the person in question, I will consult that person, as I said before."