He left the room, muttering as he reached the hall, “The miserable swindler! He knows we won’t have any further scandal, no matter what it costs.” When he returned he had in his hand the emerald he and Elsie had bought at Tiffany’s. He laid it on the corner of the desk nearest the nobleman.
“This is a genuine emerald,” he said, his voice neither hot nor cold. “You may take it—if you like.”
“I thank you,” replied the nobleman with a slight bow of acknowledgment, as if a wrong to him had been righted.
He put the emerald and the ring in his waistcoat pocket; he put the box, with the false emerald in it, on the corner of the desk exactly where Senator Pope had laid the genuine stone. Then he went on, in a way that was the perfection of courtesy: “May I presume further on your kindness? This German cur has placed me in a distressing position. I wish to leave America at once, to return where a gentleman cannot be thus attacked without defence. Unfortunately——” He hesitated with a fine affectation of delicacy.
Senator Pope’s eyes were more disagreeable to look at than any human being had ever before seen them. “I shall be glad to give you any reasonable assistance,” he said with resolute self-control.
“You are most kind!” Rontivogli was almost effusive. “I shall return any advance you may make as soon as I am at home.”
“How much?” asked Pope with a trace of impatience.
“I have many obligations which must be settled before I leave. I had just cabled for a remittance, but I wish to go before it can arrive. Might I trouble you for an advance of, perhaps, five thousand—I think that will be enough.”
Senator Pope unlocked and opened a drawer, took out a flat package of bills. “Here is a thousand dollars,” he said. “I cannot advance you more. And I trust you will sail the day after to-morrow.” He looked hard at the Prince. “That will spare me the necessity of making a private appeal to the Italian Embassy through our State Department.”
“You are most kind, mon cher Senator,” replied Rontivogli.