Nobili starts.
"What do you mean?" he asks, hastily.
The color has left his cheeks; his blue eyes grow dark.
"There has been some foolish gossip from persons who know nothing," Orsetti answers, advancing to the front. "About some engagement with another gentleman, whom she had accepted—"
"Nonsense! Don't listen to him, my good fellow," breaks in Ruspoli. "These lads have nothing to do but to breed scandal. They would slander the Virgin; not for wickedness, but for idleness. I mean to make them hunt. Hunting is the cure."
Nobili stands as if turned to stone.
"But I must listen," replies Nobili, fiercely, fire flaming in his eyes. "This lady's honor is my own. Who has dared to couple her name with any other man? Orsetti—Ruspoli"—and he turns to them in great excitement—"you are my friends. What does this mean?"
"Nothing," said Orsetti, trying to smile, but not succeeding. "I hear, Nobili, you have behaved with extraordinary generosity," he adds, fencing the question.
"Yes, by Jove!" adds Prince Ruspoli. Ruspoli was leaning up against a pillar, watching Orazio as he would a mischievous cur. "A most suitable marriage. Not that I care a button for blood, except in horses."
Nobili has not moved, but, as each speaks, his eye shifts rapidly from one to the other. His face from pale grows livid, and there is a throb about his temples that sounds in his ears like a thousand hammers.