to bribe the men of influence from seeking toexpose their thefts.
Surely poor strangled Italy under the regime of his lamented MajestyKing Umberto was in very evil case!
"I have trusted in you, Vito," the Minister said simply, when he againfound tongue, for the ugly truth had utterly staggered him.
"And I have done my best, your Excellency," was the other's reply. "Inthe Camera and out of it, I have worked unceasingly in order to try andwin you back into favour, but Borselli is far too strong. He hasinfluential friends, who believe they will obtain appointments and moneyif he is in office as Minister of War. Hence they are working by everymeans to place him in power."
"And to cause my downfall and ruin!" murmured the unhappy man, staringblankly down at the piazza, still dazzlingly white in the hot sun-glare.
The adventurer sighed. To Camillo Morini he owed everything, and wasconscious of the fact. He had no words to express his regret at hisfailure, for he knew too well all that it meant to the man before him.
"The success of the French secret service upon the Alpine frontier isthe chief capital of the Opposition," Ricci explained. "They say youhave connived at it, and that Solaro was assisted by your daughter, theSignorina Mary."
"Solaro assisted by her! How?"
"They have discovered that he was her friend. They were noticedtogether in Rome a year ago, when they allege that she gave him certaininformation gathered from your papers, which, in due course, reached theFrench Ministry of War!"
"Impossible?" declared the Minister. "They are acquainted, I know. Butmy daughter would never assist a traitor. It is infamous?"
"I quite agree with you. I cannot believe the signorina guilty of anysuch action. Yet the truth remains that the secrets of the Tresenta areactually in the hands of France."
"I know," groaned the unhappy man. "I know, Vito. But Solaro isdisgraced and imprisoned. Surely that is enough for them?"
"No. You misunderstand. They are raising the cry everywhere that Italyis in danger--that you personally are culpable."
"They will say next that I myself have sold the plans to France!" hecried bitterly.
"Ah! you know the kind of men Borselli has behind him--the mostunscrupulous set of office-seekers in Italy. They will hesitate atnothing in order to arouse the public indignation against you. The fireis already kindled, and they are now fanning it into a flame. I triedto extinguish it. I offered a dozen bribes in various quarters, knowingthat you would willingly pay to secure safety--but all were rejectedbecause of Borselli's promise to them of fat emoluments in the future."
"Italy!" cried the Minister. "Oh, Italy! Must you fall into the handsof such a gang of thieves? I have done my best. Dishonesty has beenforced upon me by this very man who now seeks to hound me out of officeand take my place. I have been blind, Vito," he added, "utterly blind."
"Yes," sighed the other, "I fear you have. Borselli has laid his planstoo well, and arranged the conspiracy with too deep a cunning, to fail.I naturally believed that he could be fought with his own weapons, but Ihave found myself mistaken. We must, alas! face the worst! To-morrowthe Socialists are to raise the question of Tresenta in the Camera; thevote will be taken, the Government defeated, and the whole blame willfall upon yourself. Borselli's organs of the Press all have theirorders to shriek and scream at you, to demand a searching inquiryregarding the disposal of certain sums set apart for the army--even tothe giving of contracts to German contractors."
Morini started, and his grave face went paler.
"Then Borselli has betrayed me--he, who is equally guilty with myself?"
"To his friends who intend to obtain Government appointments at highsalaries he is innocent, while you alone are guilty," Ricci pointed out.Then, sighing again, he added in a sympathetic voice,--for although apolitical adventurer he was nevertheless a firm personal friend of theMinister's,--"I declare to you, Camillo, I have done my very utmost.But the weak point in our armour is the Tresenta affair, and thesignorina's acquaintance with the traitor Solaro. The naturalconclusion, of course, is that she assisted him."
"But what do they say of his friendship for her?"
"They allege that she was in love with him, but that, being only anofficer with little else but his pay, he feared to approach you toobtain your permission to pay court to her, and that she, in order thathe might obtain money from the French War Intelligence Department, gavehim copies of certain secret documents which were in your possession."
"But I have no plans of the Tresenta," he declared quickly.
"There are other matters of which they allege the French have gainedknowledge--details of the new mobilisation scheme."
"Those papers are safely locked up at the Ministry," he answered. "Maryhas no knowledge of their existence."
"If France obtained copies of them, would they be of service to her?"
"Of course. They would reveal our vulnerable points, and would showwhere she might strike us in order to destroy the concentration of ourtroops upon the frontier. Those papers are the most important of any wepossess. The commanders of the various military districts have theirsecret orders, but they would be useless without the key to the completescheme, which is kept safely from prying eyes in the Ministry. TheFrench have surely not obtained a copy of that!" he gasped.
"It seems that they have--through your daughter, it is alleged." Thenhe added, with a sigh, "They have all their facts ready to launchagainst you."
"Their untruths--their lies!" he cried desperately, clenching his fist."Ah, it is cruel! It is infamous! They even go so far as to brand mydaughter--my dear Mary--as a traitress!"
And the strong man of Italy--the ruler of a European army--covered hisface with his hands and sobbed aloud.
Vito Ricci had failed, yet was it any wonder that Morini's enemiessought to attack his honour by making false and ignominious allegationsagainst his daughter?
The unhappy man looked into the future of ruin, disgrace, perhapsprosecution by those very men who had been his friends, and saw but oneway open from that shame--death.
And yet was not such a thought irreligious and cowardly? If theyintended to attack his daughter, was it not his duty to defend her andvindicate her good name?
Ricci, unscrupulous as he had been through years of political life,sometimes holding by his intrigues the very fate of Italy in his hands,stood by in silence, his chin sunk upon his breast, for he knew too wellthat the ill-judged man to whom he was indebted for so much was to bemade the scapegoat of the corrupt Ministry--he knew that the man beforehim was doomed, and yet he was utterly powerless to save him, eventhough he was prepared to go to any length to attain that end.
Then, a moment later, when Camillo Morini thought of that degradedofficer, silent and suffering in the gloom of his prison, his mouthhardened, he held his breath, and his jaws became hard set. Heremembered how that accused man had broken his sword before him and castthe pieces at his feet as guage of his innocence.
Yet the die was cast. To-day he, Camillo Morini, was Italian Ministerof War, and the trusted adviser of his sovereign, King Umberto. Butto-morrow--to-morrow? Ah! would that the morrow could not come.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
THE EAR OF THE MINISTER.
After luncheon Camillo Morini left his wife, Mary, and the three youngEnglish girls, Anna and Eva Fry and Violet Walters, and retired as usualto his study. He had been silent and thoughtful at table, and his wife,ignorant of the crisis, attributed it to worry over state affairs, aswas so often the case. A Minister's life is never a happy one, andalways full of grave responsibilities.
Her Excellency had seen her husband, to whom she was so devoted, agebefore his time, and in the years gone by she had greatly assisted himby her wise counsels and womanly help.
He looked at her in silence from where he sat at the head of the table,and sighed bitterly to himself. If he told her all, the shock would betoo great for her. It might, indeed, have serious consequences.Therefore he was com
pelled to keep his secret from everyone save Mary.
The long green sun-shutters were closed, and the great, high, oldfrescoed room in which he sat alone was in half-darkness. He had toldthe liveried servant Francesco that he did not wish to be disturbed, andon entering had locked the door behind him. It was a dull, depressingroom at any time, for the ponderous cases of old vellum-bound booksbreathed an atmosphere of a glorious but forgotten past. Gerino'sfrescoed angels looked down upon him from the ceiling, and the ponderousbeams still bore traces of bright colouring and faded gilt. Closedagainst the stifling heat outside, only a few rays of light struckacross the big writing-table where His Excellency was sittingdejectedly, his head buried in his hands. From without came themonotonous hum of the insects and