“Very true; why, indeed?” said Riccabocca. “Jemima, I cannot endure the terrors I suffer on that poor child’s account. I will open myself frankly to Randal Leslie. And now, too, that which might have been a serious consideration, in case I return to Italy, will no longer stand in our way, Jemima.”
Jemima smiled faintly, and whispered something to Riccabocca, to which he replied,
“Nonsense, anima mia. I know it will be,—have not a doubt of it. I tell you it is as nine to four, according to the nicest calculations. I will speak at once to Randal. He is too young, too timid to speak himself.”
“Certainly,” interposed Giacomo; “how could he dare to speak, let him love ever so well?”
Jemima shook her head.
“Oh, never fear,” said Riccabocca, observing this gesture; “I will give him the trial. If he entertain but mercenary views, I shall soon detect them. I know human nature pretty well, I think, my love; and, Giacomo, just get me my Machiavelli;—that’s right. Now leave me, my dear; I must reflect and prepare myself.”
When Randal entered the house, Giacomo, with a smile of peculiar suavity, ushered him into the drawing-room. He found Riccabocca alone, and seated before the fireplace, leaning his face on his hand, with the great folio of Machiavelli lying open on the table.
The Italian received him as courteously as usual; but there was in his manner a certain serious and thoughtful dignity, which was perhaps the more imposing, because but rarely assumed. After a few preliminary observations, Randal remarked that Frank Hazeldean had informed him of the curiosity which the disappearance of the Riccaboccas had excited at the Hall, and inquired carelessly if the doctor had left instructions as to the forwarding of any letters that might be directed to him at the Casino.
“Letters!” said Riccabocca, simply; “I never receive any; or, at least, so rarely, that it was not worth while to take an event so little to be expected into consideration. No; if any letters do reach the Casino, there they will wait.”
“Then I can see no possibility of indiscretion; no chance of a clew to your address.”