Doing the thing nicely, isn't it?"
For a minute or two the Marchese was utterly unable to answer him a
word. His head swam round. He felt sick. A cold perspiration broke
out all over him; and he feared that he should have fallen from his
seat.
"He is a great fool for his pains," he said at last, mastering
himself by a great effort, sufficiently to enable himself to utter
the words in an ordinary voice and manner.
"Well, it seemed to me a mad scheme, considering all things. And the
truth is, that I thought your lordship would very likely think it
well to put a stop to it. And that is why I have bored your lordship
by mentioning it to you."
"At six o'clock, you say?" asked the Marchese.
"Yes; that was the hour they fixed. Then he is to drive her to a
farm-house on the border of the forest, leave the bagarino there,
and go into the wood for a stroll. Not a bad idea for a wind-up of
the Carnival, upon my word!"
"I think you have done very wisely and kindly in telling me this,
Signor Conte," said the Marchese, in as quiet tones as he could
command; "and if you will complete your kindness by saying no word
of it to anybody else, I shall esteem myself much obliged to you."
"Oh! for that you may depend on me, Signor Marchese. I should never
have thought of mentioning it to you, but for thinking that it would
be a real kindness to Ludovico to put a stop to it.
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