The baron and his confidant continued their conversation, but in such low tones that the walls themselves could not have overheard them. The baron was agitated; Johan shrugged his shoulders.
“Well,” said the latter, when his master concluded, “it’s a story that would put you to sleep standing up. This blackguard of a Tebaldo has forged it from the reports that are circulating through the country, so as to make money out of you.”
“He says that he never put foot in Sweden before yesterday, and that he came direct from Holland by way of Drontheim.”
“Possibly; but what of that? He may have picked up his information accidentally somewhere in the neighborhood. So many stories are told about you! And perhaps, in some of his travels, he really did meet this old Manasses, who knew all about them before.”
“Well, what shall we do about it?”
“You must frighten M. Italian, and not allow yourself to be black-mailed. You must promise him—”
“How much?”
“Two or three hours in our chamber of roses.”
“He will think it a mere threat. He has heard, no doubt, that racks and wheels were abolished in Sweden, under the old bishop.”
“Do you suppose the captain of the great tower needs any such old rubbish to help him find a tongue in a man of flesh and bones?”