CHAPTER XVIII
Two days later Maria received a letter from Naples, addressed in a round, commercial handwriting. It came with two or three others, of which she guessed the contents, and she opened it first from mere curiosity. No one had ever written her a business letter from Naples.
The envelope contained two sheets of paper. She spread out one of them to read, but at the first glance she uttered an exclamation of horror; what she saw was a photographed copy of one of Castiglione’s letters to her. Her fingers relaxed and the first sheet fluttered to the floor.
The second lay on the writing-table, and when she could collect her senses she saw that it was a typewritten communication demanding the immediate payment of one hundred and fifty thousand francs, failing which, the photographed copies of seven letters written to her by the Conte del Castiglione would be reproduced and published simultaneously in two newspapers, in Rome and in Naples. The money was to be forthcoming within exactly eight days in the form of a cheque to the bearer from the National Bank, to be addressed to Signor Carlo Pozzi at the General Post Office in Palermo, not registered. If it was not received within eight days, the Countess would be informed of the fact, and a duplicate of the cheque was to be sent, not registered, to Signor Paolo Pizzuti at the General Post Office in Messina. If this were not received, the writer would take it for granted that the money had not been sent, and the letters would appear. The photographs were in safe hands, and would inevitably be published at once if any attempt were made to arrest the persons who applied for the letters at the two post offices named, or if, subsequently, any steps were taken to trace the writer, either through the police or otherwise.
Maria’s first impulse was to send the money at once. She had been alone in the world so long that she was used to keeping her own accounts, and she knew that she possessed more than the sum demanded, in the form of Government bonds. To take these to the National Bank and get a duplicate cheque in exchange for them would be a simple matter, and the affair would be at an end. For her, the amount was a large one, but since she had come back to her husband she had little use for her own fortune, and did not spend her income. She would certainly not miss the sum. Immediate surrender would save Montalto all anxiety and annoyance.
But two objections to this course presented themselves almost immediately, the one of a moral nature, the other practical. Since she had told her husband everything, he had a right to be consulted. The original letters were in his possession, and no longer in hers; he had trusted her, and she must now go to him for advice, even if it troubled him, as it would, for if she did not consult him he would be justified in resenting her want of confidence in him.
The second consideration was that Leone might some day need her money, for she had not the least idea of the contents of her husband’s will. Under Italian law he could not altogether disinherit a child born in wedlock, and even that moiety of his fortune which must come to Leone would be very large. But Maria felt sure that he was aware of the truth, and that many others suspected it; and there were several collateral heirs to the Montalto estates, who would not hesitate to claim much more than the law would ever give them. Besides, there was Leone himself; who could tell by what ill chance he might some day learn the story of his birth? If he ever did, she guessed the man from the boy, and guessed that her son would not keep an hour what was not universally admitted to be his. He would have nothing, then, but what she could leave him.
Yet, if only this second reason had influenced her, she would not have hesitated to pay blackmail and be free. In the course of a few years, by spending little on herself, her fortune would recover from the sudden demand on it. On the other hand, if she hid the truth from her husband, even to save him, and if he ever discovered it, he might resent the concealment bitterly.