Before he could reply, a sudden movement in the crowd beneath attracted the attention of both, and a number of persons who had filled the terrace now passed hurriedly into the salons, where, to judge from the commotion, an event of some importance had occurred. Ida lost not a moment in entering, when she was met by the words: “It is she, Nina herself is ill; some mask—a stranger, it would seem—has said something or threatened something.” In fact, she had been carried to her room in strong convulsions; and while some were in search of medical aid for her, others, not less eagerly, were endeavoring to detect the delinquent.
From the gay and brilliant picture of festivity which was presented but a few minutes back, what a change now came over the scene! Many hurried away at once, shocked at even a momentary shadow on the sunny road of their existence; others as anxiously pressed on to recount the incident elsewhere; some, again, moved by curiosity or some better prompting, exerted themselves to investigate what amounted to a gross violation of the etiquette of a carnival; and thus, in the salons, on the stairs, and in the court itself, the greatest bustle and confusion prevailed. At length some suggested that the gate of the palace should be closed, and none suffered to depart without unmasking. The motion was at once adopted, and a small knot of persons, the friends of the Countess, assumed the task of the scrutiny.
Despite complaints and remonstrances as to the inconvenience and delay thus occasioned, they examined every carriage as it passed out. None, however, but faces familiar to the Florentine world were to be met with; the well-known of every ball and fête were there, and if a stranger presented himself, he was sure to be one for whom some acquaintance could bear testimony.
At a fire in one of the smaller salons stood a small group, of which the Duc de Brignolles and Major Scaresby formed a part. Sentiments of a very different order had detained these two individuals, and while the former was deeply moved by the insult offered to the Countess, the latter felt an intense desire to probe the circumstance to the bottom.
“Devilish odd it is!” cried Scaresby; “here we have been this last hour and a half turning a whole house out of the windows, and yet there's no one to tell us what it's all for, what it 's all about!”
“Pardon, monsieur,” said the Duke, severely. “We know that a lady whose hospitality we have been accepting has retired from her company insulted. It is very clearly our duty that this should not pass unpunished.”
“Oughtn't we to have some clearer insight into what constituted the insult? It may have been a practical joke,—a mauvaise plaisanterie, Duke.”
“We have no claim to any confidence not extended to us, sir,” said the Frenchman. “To me it is quite sufficient that the Countess feels aggrieved.”
“Not but we shall cut an absurd figure to-morrow, when we own that we don't know what we were so indignant about.”
“Only so many of us as have characters for the 'latest intelligence.'”