"I shall certainly not let you have it," he answered, with cold irritation. "It is absurd!"

If Veronica had wanted the money to spend it on herself, she might have waited until he was cool again, in the evening, before insisting. But her blood rose, for she felt that it was for her poor people, starving, sick, frozen, shelterless, in distant Muro. She knew perfectly well what her rights were, and she a.s.serted them then and there with a calm young dignity of purpose which terrified Gregorio more and more.

"This is very strange," she said. "I do not wish to say disagreeable things, Uncle Gregorio; we should both regret them. But you know that I am ent.i.tled to spend all my income as I please, and I must really beg you to get me this money at once. It is for a good purpose. The case is urgent. I am the proper judge of whether it is needed or not, and I have decided that I will give it. There is nothing more to be said."

"Except that I entirely refuse to listen to such words from my ward!"

answered Gregorio, angrily.

"I appeal to you, Aunt Matilde," said Veronica, setting down her coffee cup upon the table and turning to the countess.

But Matilde knew well enough that her husband could not get the money.

She shook her head gravely and said nothing.

By this time Veronica was thoroughly determined to have her way.

"Very well," she answered calmly. "I shall telegraph to the cardinal. I understand that he is in Rome."

Gregorio turned away, and he felt that his knees were shaking under him.

He knew well enough what the result would be if the cardinal's suspicions were aroused. Matilde saw the danger and interfered.

"I think you are pushing such a small matter to the verge of a quarrel, Gregorio," she said sweetly. "Since Veronica insists, you must give her the money. After all, it is hers, as she says."

Macomer turned and stared at his wife in amazement.

"I am going out at once," she continued. "If you like, I will go to the bank and get the money for you. Yes, dear," she added, turning to Veronica, "I shall be back before four o'clock, and you shall have it in plenty of time. Did you say four thousand or five thousand?"

"Only three," answered the young girl, rapidly pacified. "Three thousand, if you please. Thank you very much, Aunt Matilde! A woman always understands a woman in questions of charity. One wishes to act at once. Thank you."

And in order to end an unpleasant situation, she nodded and left the room. Husband and wife waited a moment after the door was closed. Then Matilde, before Gregorio could speak, went and opened it suddenly and looked out, but there was no one there.

"She would not listen at the door!" exclaimed Gregorio, with some contempt for his wife's caution.

"She? No! But I distrust that woman she has."

"And how do you propose to get this money?" asked the count.

"Have I no diamonds?" inquired Matilde. "She would have ruined us. Order the carriage, and I will go to a jeweller at once."

"Yes," said Macomer. "You are very wise. I thought there was going to be trouble. It was clever of you to restore her confidence by offering her more. But--" he lowered his voice--"something must be done at once."

"Yes," answered Matilde, looking behind her. "It shall be done at once."

He went out half an hour later, and before four o'clock Veronica despatched Elettra to Don Teodoro with three thousand francs in bank notes. But the diamonds which Matilde had left at the jeweller's were worth far more than that, and she had got more than that for them.

CHAPTER XIII.

Veronica was well satisfied, and slept peacefully, dreaming of the pleasure she had given the old priest, and of the good which he could do with her money. And then in her dream, the scene of his first visit was acted over, and suddenly Veronica started up awake in the dark. She must have uttered an unconscious exclamation, just as she awoke, for in a moment the door opened and she heard Elettra's voice asking her if she needed anything, but in a tone so anxious and changed that it seemed to Veronica to belong to her dream rather than to any reality.

"Are you there?" she asked, in the darkness, surprised that the woman should have come in so unexpectedly.

"Yes," answered Elettra, briefly, and she groped for the matches on the little table beside the bed.

She struck a light and lit a candle. Veronica saw that her face was very pale, and that she was half dressed, wearing a black skirt and a white cotton jacket. As the young girl looked at her she realized how strange it was that she should have appeared at the slightest sound.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, with a little smile. "What time is it?" She looked at the watch, holding it up to the flame of the candle.

"Three o'clock! What is the matter, Elettra? Why have you come?"

Elettra looked down, in real or pretended confusion.

"Excellency," she said in a humble tone, "my room is very cold and damp in this rainy weather. For some nights I have slept on the sofa in the dressing-room. I hope your Excellency will pardon me. And I heard you cry out, just now. Then, forgetting that I ought not to have been sleeping there, I got up and came."

"Oh! Did I cry out? Yes--I woke up suddenly. I was dreaming of Don Teodoro and of--" She checked herself. "Why did you not tell me that your room is damp? You shall have another."

"Excellency, if you will forgive me, it would give trouble at this time.

If you will allow me to sleep on the sofa until the weather is fine again. I will make no noise. You have seen--in the morning no one would know it, and I am very well there."

Veronica looked at her and hesitated a moment. In the stillness she heard a soft sound.

"What is that?" she asked quickly.

"It is the cat," answered the maid, peering down below the level of the candle-light.

"It did not sound like the cat," said Veronica, pushing her dark, brown hair back with her slim hand, and looking down over the edge of the bed.

"It was more like a footstep," she added, with a little laugh.

But at that moment she caught sight of the Maltese cat's green eyes in shadow. The creature came forward from the door, sprang instantly upon the foot of the bed and lay down, purring, its forepaws doubled under it, and its eyes shut.

"It is a heavy cat," said Elettra, thoughtfully. "It is so fat. One can hear it when it walks across the room."

She scratched its head gently, and it purred more loudly under her hand.

"Excellency, you will allow me to sleep in the dressing-room, just for these days," she said presently.

"Oh yes--if you like," answered Veronica, laying her head down upon the pillow, sleepy again.

The maid bent over her and drew the things up about her neck in a half-tender, motherly way, looking at the girl's face. Then she hesitated before putting out the light.

"Excellency," she said, "let us go to Muro. The air of this house is not good for you. It is damp, and you are pale in these days. In the mountains the colour will come back. The people will make a feast when you come. It will amuse you. Excellency, let us go."

Veronica laughed sleepily.

"You are dreaming, Elettra. Go away. I want to go to sleep."

The woman sighed softly, extinguished the light, and groped her way to the door in the dark. Veronica was very sleepy, as she said, but somehow after her maid had gone away, she became wakeful again for a time. The cat had remained on the foot of the bed, and its soft purring disturbed her a little, because she was accustomed to absolute silence. There had been a curious cross-fitting of her dream and of the little realities of Elettra's entrance. She had dreamt over again the priest's earnest warning that her life was in danger, and she had imagined that she heard a footstep of a person coming up quickly behind her. Then, somehow, in the same instant, recalling what Don Teodoro had told her about her uncle's frauds, she had seemed to know that he had refused the money in the afternoon because there was no more to take, nor to be given to her.