The words seemed to be driven out on her quick breathing, and the blood came and went in her cheek like a hurried messenger.  She caught up her riding-hat and turned to put it on before the Venice mirror.

Odo, stepping up behind her, looked over her shoulder to catch the reflection of her blush.  Their eyes met for a laughing instant; then he drew back deadly pale, for in the depths of the dim mirror he had seen another face.

The Duchess cried out and glanced behind her.  “Who was it?  Did you see her?” she said trembling.

Odo mastered himself instantly.

“I saw nothing,” he returned quietly.  “What can your Highness mean?”

She covered her eyes with her hands.  “A girl’s face,” she shuddered—­“there in the mirror—­behind mine—­a pale face with a black travelling hood over it—­”

He gathered up her gloves and riding-whip and threw open the door of the pavilion.

“Your Highness is weary and the air here insalubrious.  Shall we not ride?” he said.

Maria Clementina heard him with a blank stare.  Suddenly she roused herself and made as though to pass out; but on the threshold she snatched her whip from him and, turning, flung it full at the mirror.  Her aim was good and the chiselled handle of the whip shattered the glass to fragments.

She caught up her long skirt and stepped into the open.

“I brook no rivals!” said she with a white-lipped smile.  “And now, cousin,” she added gaily, “to horse!”

2.15.

Odo, as in duty bound, waited the next morning on the Duchess; but word was brought that her Highness was indisposed, and could not receive him till evening.

He passed a drifting and distracted day.  The fear lay much upon him that danger threatened Gamba and his associates; yet to seek them out in the present conjuncture might be to play the stalking-horse to their enemies.  Moreover, he fancied the Duchess not incapable of using political rumours to further her private caprice; and scenting no immediate danger he resolved to wait upon events.

On rising from dinner he was surprised by a summons from the Duke.  The message, an unusual one at that hour, was brought by a slender pale lad, not in his Highness’s service, but in that of the German physician Heiligenstern.  The boy, who was said to be a Georgian rescued from the Grand Signior’s galleys, and whose small oval face was as smooth as a girl’s, accosted Odo in one of the remoter garden alleys with the request to follow him at once to the Duke’s apartment.  Odo complied, and his guide loitered ahead with an air of unconcern, as though not wishing to have his errand guessed.  As they passed through the tapestry gallery preceding the gentlemen’s antechamber, footsteps and voices were heard within.  Instantly the boy was by Odo’s side and had drawn him into the embrasure of a window.  A moment later Trescorre left the antechamber and walked rapidly past their hiding-place.  As soon as he was out of sight the Georgian led Odo from his concealment and introduced him by a private way to the Duke’s closet.