Maria Clementina seemed at first unaware of her kinsman’s presence, and he began to hope he might avoid any private talk with her; but when the automaton had been dismissed and the card-tables were preparing, one of her gentlemen summoned him to her side.  As usual, she was highly rouged in the French fashion, and her cold blue eyes had a light which set off the extraordinary fairness of her skin.

“Cousin,” said she at once, “have you your papers?” Her tone was haughty and yet eager, as though she scorned to show herself concerned, yet would not have had him believe in her indifference.  Odo bowed without speaking.

“And when do you set out?” she continued.  “My good uncle is impatient to receive you.”

“At the earliest moment, madam,” he replied with some hesitation.

The hesitation was not lost on her and he saw her flush through her rouge.

“Ah,” said she in a low voice, “the earliest moment is none too early!—­Do you go tomorrow?” she persisted; but just then Trescorre advanced toward them, and under a burst of assumed merriment she privately signed to Odo to withdraw.

He was glad to make his escape, for the sense of walking among hidden pitfalls was growing on him.  That he had acquitted himself awkwardly with the Duchess he was well aware; but Trescorre’s interruption had at least enabled him to gain time.  An increasing unwillingness to leave Pianura had replaced his former impatience to be gone.  The reluctance to desert his friends was coupled with a boyish desire to stay and see the game out; and behind all his other impulses lurked the instinctive resistance to any feminine influence save one.

The next morning he half-expected another message from the Duchess; but none came, and he judged her to be gravely offended.  Cantapresto appeared early with the rumour that some kind of magical ceremony was to be performed that evening in the palace; and toward noon the Georgian boy again came privately to Odo and requested him to wait on the Duke when his Highness rose from supper.  This increased Odo’s fears for Gamba, Andreoni and the other reformers; yet he dared neither seek them out in person nor entrust a message to Cantapresto.  As the day passed, however, he began to throw off his apprehensions.  It was not the first time since he had come to Pianura that there had been ominous talk of political disturbances, and he knew that Gamba and his friends were not without means of getting under shelter.  As to his own risk, he did not give it a thought.  He was not of an age or a temper to weigh personal danger against the excitement of conflict; and as evening drew on he found himself wondering with some impatience if after all nothing unusual would happen.