RANDAL.—“Does that thought suggest no danger to the child of the kinsman?”
Riccabocca recoiled, and gasped forth, “The child! You do not mean to imply that this man, infamous though he be, can contemplate the crime of an assassin?”
Randal paused perplexed. His ground was delicate. He knew not what causes of resentment the exile entertained against the count. He knew not whether Riccabocca would not assent to an alliance that might restore him to his country,—and he resolved to feel his way with precaution.
“I did not,” said he, smiling gravely, “mean to insinuate so horrible a charge against a man whom I have never seen. He seeks you,—that is all I know. I imagine, from his general character, that in this search he consults his interest. Perhaps all matters might be conciliated by an interview!”
“An interview!” exclaimed Riccabocca; “there is but one way we should meet,—foot to foot, and hand to hand.”
“Is it so? Then you would not listen to the count if he proposed some amicable compromise,—if, for instance, he was a candidate for the hand of your daughter?”
The poor Italian, so wise and so subtle in his talk, was as rash and blind when it came to action as if he had been born in Ireland and nourished on potatoes and Repeal. He bared his whole soul to the merciless eye of Randal.
“My daughter!” he exclaimed. “Sir, your very question is an insult.”
Randal’s way became clear at once. “Forgive me,” he said mildly; “I will tell you frankly all that I know. I am acquainted with the count’s sister. I have some little influence over her. It was she who informed me that the count had come here, bent upon discovering your refuge, and resolved to wed your daughter. This is the danger of which I spoke. And when I asked your permission to aid in forestalling it, I only intended to suggest that it might be wise to find some securer home, and that I, if permitted to know that home, and to visit you, could apprise you from time to time of the count’s plans and movements.”
“Sir, I thank you sincerely,” said Riccabocca, with emotion; “but am I not safe here?”