A melancholy smile came over Silva's face. The expression of his eyes told as plainly as possible that he had no delusions on the score of his recovery. Then he went through the motion of writing with an imaginary pencil upon an invisible paper. Countess Flavio turned impulsively to the nurse.
"Is it quite safe?" she asked. "I don't think the poor fellow will rest till he makes me understand; and you see, being Italian myself, anything he may write----"
"I think it will be a very good thing," the nurse replied.
She came to the bedside with a sheet of paper and a pencil, which she placed in Silva's hand. His unsteady fingers began to trace certain signs on the paper. The marks were feeble and straggling enough, but a little care on the part of the Countess enabled her to make out what the characters represented.
"It is quite plain to me now," she said, looking down into Silva's eager face. "You want me to find the diary, do you not? You mean the Count's diary, which was not produced at the trial?"
Silva nodded feebly. Evidently he was fast lapsing into unconsciousness again. But with an effort he managed to concentrate his mind upon what the Countess was saying.
"The diary is locked up in a little desk in your bedroom," the Countess went on. "I am to find it and give it to Mr. Walter Lance to read. My good Silva, this is most extraordinary! What possible interest could Mr. Lance take in that diary? Are you quite sure that I have not made a mistake?"
Again Silva opened his eyes and nodded almost vigorously.
"Very well," the Countess said reluctantly. "I see you are in earnest. I will get the diary at once, and Mr. Lance shall have it without delay. If there is anything more----"
It was idle to speak to Silva any longer. Just for an instant a smile flickered over his face, and then he was completely lost to the world and his surroundings. Puzzled and mystified, the Countess crept from the room. Silva had made this request on what was practically his dying bed, and he must be obeyed. What good it would do at this moment the Countess was quite at a loss to see. She found the little desk presently and broke it open. Inside lay a small parchment-covered volume with gilt lettering on the outside. With this in her hand the Countess Flavio walked out on to the lawn where Walter was strolling up and down and accosted him.