“For some days and nights I blindly worshiped this dazzling star from a distance,” Paul continued, having vainly waited for some remark from his mother. “At last I was introduced to her. She lived with some elderly female relative, who accompanied her to the theater every night. By degrees—very rapid degrees, for Italian girls are very unlike their English sisters—she made me her confidant. She did with me as she chose. For all I knew of her real nature, she might as well have worn a waxen mask. Through the dishonesty of the man who had trained her, she had been sold into a species of slavery to the manager. Unaware of her own value, she had bound herself to this fellow’s exclusive service for the term of ten years, at a salary which the most subordinate performer would have refused with scorn.”
“Go on,” said his mother, on whom the truth began to force itself.
“Infatuated as I was, she easily interested me in her story, although I had at that time no intentions of any kind beyond——”
“Beyond flirting with the girl?”
“I floated with the current. I was incapable of reasoning, as much so as any one bereft of their natural senses. One night I was behind the scenes; the house took fire. There was a fearful panic, and hundreds were injured—many killed. This young girl clung to me, and somehow I carried her out of the theater by the stage-door—I believe so, for I remembered nothing from the time I caught her up in my arms until a moment of amazed weakness, when I woke up to find myself lying in a strange room, this girl sitting by me. I then learned that, as I rushed out, bearing her in my arms, a blazing beam of timber had fallen, and dangerously wounded me.”
An exclamation escaped Mrs. Desfrayne, and she half-rose from her seat.
“What am I to hear?” she cried, as if in anguish. “And you never told me of this illness!”
“Let me finish, now that I have begun. I had been ill for weeks in the old home on the outskirts of Florence, where this girl lived, with her aged attendant or relative. Unhappily—most unhappily—they both imagined I was an English milord. I believe that my servant had deceived them by bragging of my wealth and importance.”
“How did he dare to permit you to remain in that place instead of having you carried to your own lodgings?” demanded Mrs. Desfrayne.
“When I fell, the girl and I were put into some kind of vehicle, and she took me to her own home. Her object was, I believe, to have me under the immediate pressure of her influence. When Reynolds, my servant, heard of what had occurred, he flew to my side; but the physician who attended me would not, or could not, hear of my removal. Reynolds, poor soul, was seized, a day or two after, with a fever, from which he did not recover for months.”