He gave a long whistle of contempt.
"But," said he, with a smile, "it is a little bit different if you have to look forward to your death on a certain fixed day. Then you begin to overvalue things—a single hour of life becomes something."
He added, in a tone of affected condolence—
"Then one wouldn't wish to cause any poor creature to say his last adieux without some preparation. And in the case of a cardinal, is a year too little for repentance? Oh, he will put it to excellent use."
"Very well, very well," said Ferdinand Lind, with an impatient frown gathering over the shaggy eyebrows. "But I want to know what I have to do with all this?"
"Brother Lind," said the other, mildly, "if the Secretary Granaglia, knowing that I am a friend of yours, is so kind as to give me some hints of what is under discussion, I listen, but I ask no questions. And you—I presume you are here not to protest, but to obey."
"Understand me, Calabressa: it was only to you as a friend that I spoke," said Lind, gravely. And then he added, "The Council will not find, at all events, that I am recusant."
A few minutes afterward the bell rung, and Calabressa jumped to his feet; while Lind, in spite of himself, started. Presently the portiere was drawn aside, and the little sallow-complexioned man whom he had seen on the previous evening entered the room. On this occasion, however, Calabressa was motioned to withdraw, and immediately did so. Lind and the stranger were left together.
"I need scarcely inform you, Brother Lind," said he, in a slow and matter-of-fact way, "that I am the authorized spokesman of the Council."
As he said this, for a moment he rested his hand on the table. There was on the forefinger a large ring, with a red stone in it, engraved. Lind bowed acquiescence.
"Calabressa has no doubt informed you of the matter before the Council. That is now decided; the decree has been signed. Zaccatelli dies within a year from this day. The motives which have led to this decision may hereafter be explained to you, even if they have not already occurred to you; they are motives of policy, as regards ourselves and the progress of our work, as well as of justice."
Ferdinand Lind listened, without response.
"It has further been decided that the blow be struck from England."
"England!" was the involuntary exclamation.
"Yes," said the other, calmly. "To give full effect to such a warning it must be clear to the world that it has nothing to do with any private revenge or low intrigue. Assassination has been too frequent in Italy of late. The doubting throughout the world must be convinced that we have agents everywhere; and that we are no mere local society for the revenging of private wrongs."
Lind again bowed assent.
"Further," said the other, regarding him, "the Council charge you with the execution of the decree."
Lind had almost expected this: he did not flinch.
"After twelve months' grace granted, you will be prepared with a sure and competent agent who will give effect to the decree of the Council; failing such a one, the duty will devolve on your own shoulders."
"On mine!" he was forced to exclaim. "Surely—"
"Do you forget," said the other, calmly, "that sixteen years ago your life was forfeited, and given back to you by the Council?"
"So I understood," said Lind. "But it was not my life that was given me then!—only the lease of it till the Council should claim it again. However!"
He drew himself up, and the powerful face was full of decision.
"It is well," said he. "I do not complain. If I exact obedience from others, I, too, obey. The Council shall be served."
"Further instructions shall be given you. Meanwhile, the Council once more thank you for your attendance. Farewell, brother!"
"Farewell, brother!"
When he had gone, and the bell again rung, Calabressa reappeared. Lind was too proud a man to betray any concern.
"It is as you told me, Calabressa," said he, carelessly, as his friend proceeded to light him down the narrow staircase. "And I am charged with the execution of their vengeance. Well; I wish I had been present at their deliberations, that is all. This deed may answer so far as the continental countries are concerned; but, so far as England is concerned, it will undo the work of years."
"What!—England!" exclaimed Calabressa, lightly—"where they blow up a man's house with gunpowder, or dash vitriol in his face, if he works for a shilling a day less wages?—where they shoot landlords from behind hedges if the rent is raised?—where they murder policemen in the open street, to release political prisoners? No, no, friend Lind; I cannot believe that."
"However, that is not my business, Calabressa. The Council shall be obeyed. I am glad to know you are again at liberty; when you come to England you will see how your little friend Natalie has grown."
"Give a kiss from me to the little Natalushka," said he, cheerfully; and then the two parted.
CHAPTER XII.
JACTA EST ALEA.
"Natalie," said her father, entering the breakfast-room, "I have news for you to-day. This evening Mr. Brand is to be initiated."
The beautiful, calm face betrayed no surprise.
"That is always the way," she answered, almost absently. "One after the other they go in; and I only am left out, alone."
"What," he said, patting her shoulder as he passed, "are you still dreaming of reviving the Giardiniere? Well, it was a pretty idea to call each sister in the lodge by the name of a flower. But nowadays, and in England especially, if women intermeddled in such things, do you know what they would be called? Petroleuses!"
"Names do not hurt," said the girl, proudly.
"No, no. Rest content, Natalie. You are initiated far enough. You know all that needs to be known; and you can work with us, and associate with us like the rest. But about Brand; are you not pleased?"
"I am indeed pleased, papa."
"And I am more than pleased," said Lind, thoughtfully. "He will be the most important accession we have had for many a day. Ah, you women have sharp eyes; but there are some things you cannot see—there are some men whose character you cannot read."
Natalie glanced up quickly; and her father noticed that surprised look.
"Well," said he, with a smile, "what now is your opinion of Mr. Brand?"
Instantly the soft eyes were cast down again, and a faint tinge of color appeared in her face.
"Oh, my opinion, papa?" said she, as if to gain time to choose her words. "Well, I should call him manly, straightforward—and—and very kind—and—and very English—"
"I understand you perfectly, Natalie," her father said, with a laugh. "You and Lord Evelyn are quite in accord. Yes, and you are both thoroughly mistaken. You mean, by his being so English, that he is cold,