her, revealing the nest of iron drawers within, whilesomeone was moving at the writing-table a little distance away, beyondher range of vision.
Her heart beat quickly as her eye was glued to the keyhole.
The thieves, whoever they were, had opened the safe with a key and werecalmly rifling it!
She heard a noise as of crisp papers being turned over slowly, and thena few seconds later a dark figure crossed to the safe and took a furtherpacket from one of the drawers.
As the man turned towards her his face became revealed in the dim light.Sight of it staggered her.
The man who had opened the safe, and who was methodically examining herfather's confidential papers in secret, was none other than JulesDubard!
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
THE PERIL OF A NATION.
The revelation of the truth that Jules Dubard was making a methodicalexamination of her father's private papers held Mary spellbound.
From where she bent her eye at the big old-fashioned keyhole, she sawthat the ponderous steel door had been opened by a key, for it was stillin the shining lock. Within that safe her father kept a number ofimportant state papers relating to the army, and quantities ofcorrespondence had, from time to time, been brought up from Rome byofficial secretaries and he had placed them there for safety.
Once, while she had been helping him to arrange a quantity of technicaldocuments and tie them in bundles with pink tape, he had remarked--
"These are safer here than in Rome, my dear. There are thousands wholong to get sight of them, but they would never think of looking here."
But there had been a still further curious incident, one which sherecalled vividly at that moment as she watched the man intentlyexamining the documents by the light of his candle. It had happenedback in April, when some matters connected with the estate called HisExcellency from Rome, and he had brought Mary with him up to San Donato,where they had remained only two days. The country was delightful inthe bright springtime, and Mary had desired to remain longer, but it wasimpossible, for her father's official duties took him back to theEternal City--and besides, to live in the country in spring is notconsidered fashionable.
On the second night, while they were at the villa, he being alone, shesat with him in the library after dinner watching him rearrange a seriesof papers in the safe. It was eleven o'clock when he concluded andlocked the great green door, then, carrying the key in his hand, hecrossed to where she sat, and said in a calm, earnest voice--
"Mary, I know that you will keep a secret if I reveal one to you, won'tyou?"
"Most certainly, father," was her answer, not without some surprise.
"Then put on your cloak and a shawl around your head, my dear. I wantto take you out."
Her curiosity was increased, for although it was moonlight it was lateto walk in the country. Nevertheless she obeyed, and together theypassed down the steep, narrow bypath through the dark pine woods, deeperand deeper, until before them in the silence the Arno spread shimmeringin the moonbeams.
At the river's edge His Excellency suddenly halted, saying--
"Mary, I wish you to bear witness to my action, so that if you are everquestioned you may be able to tell the truth. Recollect that to-nightis the ninth of April--is it not?"
"Yes; why?" she inquired, more puzzled than ever.
"Because I have decided that that safe in the library shall never againbe reopened while I live. See! Here is the key!" and he gave it intoher hand, urging her to examine it, which she did under the brightmoonbeams.
Then he took it from her hand, and with a sudden movement tossed it asfar as he could towards the centre of the deep stream, where it fellwith a splash.
He sighed, as though a great weight had been lifted from his mind, andas they turned to re-ascend the hill he said with a grim laugh--
"If anyone wishes to open it now, he'll have a good deal of difficulty,I think."
That was all. She had never questioned him further. She had beenwitness of the wilful concealment of the key, but the reason she knewnot. There were state secrets, she supposed, and she always regardedthem as mysterious and inexplicable.
Yet the safe had been reopened--if not by the actual key flung into theriver, then by a copy.
But what motive had Dubard in coming there on a visit during theMinister's absence, and making careful examination of the documentswhich had been so zealously hidden?
Out on the terrace that evening Dubard had, by giving her that warning,shown himself to be her father's friend. Yet surely this secret pryingwas no act of friendship?
And this was the man who had courted and flattered her--the man whommore than once she had believed that she could love!
Her heart beat quickly, for she scarce dared to breathe, lest she shouldbetray her presence. The silence was unbroken save that within the roomwas the rustle of papers as the man carefully glanced over folio afterfolio.
The writing-table stood a little to the left, beyond the range of hersight, therefore he was for a long time invisible to her. Yet in thedead silence she could distinctly hear the scratching of a pen, asthough he were making some extracts or memoranda. He had evidently litthe lamp upon the table, for his candle still stood on the floor beforethe open safe.
As she listened she heard him laugh lightly to himself, a harsh, low,mocking laugh, which echoed through the big old room, and then he roseand carried back the bundle of documents carefully retied, and placedthem in their drawer, afterwards taking out another, and looking at thedocket upon it.
From the latter he saw it was of no interest to him, therefore he tossedit back, as he did a second and a third. He seemed to be searching forsomething he could not find, and his failure caused him considerablechagrin.
His actions held her utterly dumbfounded. Although she had beenattracted by his personality and his courtesy, she had, with thatcurious intuition which women possess, regarded him with some vaguedistrust. What she now discovered made it plain that she had not beenmistaken. Her father had welcomed him to his house, had entertainedhim, and had regarded him as a man of sterling worth, notwithstandinghis Parisian elegance of manner and foppishness of attire.
In their family circle her father had, indeed, more than once expressedadmiration of the count's high qualities, which showed how completelythe man had insinuated himself into the Minister's confidence. But thetruth was now revealed, and he was unmasked.
Her natural indignation that he, a comparative stranger, should seek toinquire into her father's most carefully guarded private affairs,prompted her to burst in upon him and demand the reason of hisduplicity; but as she watched, she recognised that the most judiciouscourse would be to remain silent, and to describe to her father all thatshe had witnessed.
Therefore she remained motionless with strained eyes, set teeth, andquickly beating heart, gazing upon the man who had accepted her mother'shospitality only to make an examination of her father's secrets.
An hour passed. The deep-toned clock struck the hour of four, followedby the far-distant bell of Florence. She was cramped, chilled, and indarkness, for she had extinguished her light in order that he should notbe attracted by it shining beneath the door.
Presently, however, she saw from his dark, heavy countenance, lit by theuncertain light of the candle, that he was deeply disappointed. He hadsearched, but had evidently failed to find what he expected. Thereforehe commenced busily to rearrange the packets in the steel drawers, justas he had found them, preparatory to relocking the safe and retiring tohis room.
She recognised that he had concluded his search--for that night, at anyrate--for there still remained four or five drawers full of papersunexamined. Servants rise early in Italy, and he feared, perhaps, thathe might be discovered. The remaining papers he reserved for thefollowing night.
She watched him close the safe door and place the key in his pocket,then she rose, caught up her candle, and sped along the corridors backto her own room.
She relit her candle,
and as she did so caught the reflection of her ownface in the long mirror, and was startled to see how ghastly pale itwas.
The discovery amazed her. She realised that the man who courted her soassiduously and who flattered her so constantly was in search ofsomething which he believed to be in her father's possession. How hehad recovered that key which had been thrown deep into the Arno at thatlonely reach of the river beneath the tall cypresses, was an uttermystery.
Should she go to her mother and tell her of all she had seen? Her firstimpulse was to reveal everything, and seek her mother's counsel; yet onreflection she deemed it wiser to tell her father all she knew. Thenatural impulse of a daughter was, of course, to take her mother intoher confidence, but one fact alone prevented this--only a few dayspreviously her mother had been so loud in praise of the count, in order,it seemed, to recommend him to her daughter. Madame Morini was, withher husband, equally eager to see a formal engagement between the pair,and was surprised and disappointed