“I think you have told me enough, Nella,” said Marietta wearily. “I am very tired.”
“You cannot go to bed till I have plaited your hair,” answered Nella mercilessly, but at the same time laying down the comb. “Just before you came in, I was looking out of the window. It was just an accident, for I was very busy with your things, of course. Well, as I was saying, in passing I happened to glance out of the window, and I saw—guess what I saw, my pretty lady!”
Marietta trembled, thinking that Nella had seen her, and perhaps recognised her, and was about to bring her garrulous tale to a dramatic climax by telling her so.
“Perhaps you saw a woman,” she suggested desperately.
“A woman indeed!” cried Nella. “That must be a nice woman who would be seen in the street at such a time of night, and the Governor’s archers there, too! Woman? I would not look at such a woman, I tell you! No. What I saw was this, since you cannot guess. There came two big men, running fast, and they were carrying a dead body between them! Eh! They were at no good, I tell you. One could see that.”
Marietta could bear no more, now. She bent her head and bit her finger to keep herself from crying out.
“If you will not be still, how in the world am I to plait your hair?” asked Nella querulously.
“Do it quickly, please,” Marietta succeeded in saying. “I am so very tired to-night.”
Her head bent still further forward.
“Indeed,” said Nella, much annoyed that her tale should not have been received with more interest, “you seem to be half asleep already.”
But Nella was much too truly attached to her mistress not to feel some anxiety when she saw her white face and noticed how uncertainly she walked. Nella had her in bed at last, however, and gave her more of the soothing drink, smoothed the cool pillow under her head, looked round the room to see that all was in order before going away, then took the lamp and at last went out.
“Good night, my pretty lady,” said Nella cheerfully from the door, “good rest and pleasant dreams!”
She was gone at last, and she would not come back before morning.
Marietta sat up in bed in the dark and pressed her hands to her temples in utter despair.
“I shall go mad! I shall go mad!” she whispered to herself.
She remembered that she had left her light silk mantle in the laboratory, on the great chair.
CHAPTER XVIII
Aristarchi’s interference to rescue Zorzi had not been disinterested, and so far as justice was concerned he was quite ready to believe that the Dalmatian had done all the things of which he was accused. The fact was not of the slightest importance in the situation. It was much more to the point that in the complicated and dangerous plan which the Greek captain and Arisa were carrying out, Zorzi could be of use to them, without his own knowledge. As has been told, the two had decided that he was in love with Marietta, and she with him. The rest followed naturally.