He smiled to think how well Hera had played into his hands in the wording of the message—how easy she had made it for him to give practical form to his project of withholding it from Mario and arranging with a confederate in Rome to send an answer supposably from Mario that should counsel Hera to stand by her engagement of marriage. About the day of reckoning, when his treachery should be disclosed, Tarsis was not the sort of man to worry. Time enough, he told himself to meet that difficulty when it appeared. In this moment, his crowning ambition at stake, every consideration of life dwindled to nothingness before that of making certain of performance the ceremony appointed for the following day. The telephone bell jingled.

“This is Rome?” he asked, the receiver at ear. “Quirinale, 16 A? And it is you, Signor Ulrich? Is there any one within sound of your voice? Your voice, I say. Is there any one in the room with you? Alone? Good. This is Signor Tarsis. I have a commission of great moment. You will pay strict attention to what I say, and if you have the slightest doubt that you hear aright do not hesitate to stop me, and I will repeat. You will go to the Central Railway station to-night, and await the arrival of the Roman express from the north. One of its passengers is Mario Forza. Forza. F-o-r-z-a. Yes; of the Chamber of Deputies. You know him by sight? Very good. As soon as he has left the station you will send by telegraph the message that I now will dictate. You will write it down. Are you ready?

“‘To Donna Hera dei Barbiondi, Castel-Minore, Brianza. Justice gives him first claim. Let justice be your guide. M.’

“You have that? Read it slowly. Good. You will put that message on the wire as soon as Mario Forza has left the station. Now, repeat my instructions from the beginning. All right. One thing more. When you have sent the message call me up. Yes; I am in Milan. I shall await your call in Piazza Pellico. That is all. Addio.”

Signor Ulrich was the only man in Italy to whom Tarsis would have intrusted the errand—Ulrich the Austrian, as he was known to the toilers; superintendent of all the Tarsis silk works. As a crusher of labor revolts he had proved himself a master, and Tarsis, perceiving a sound investment of capital, had made him rich while making him loyal. He knew that the little device of the telegram would remain as deep a secret as if it were known to himself alone.

“You may go and return at 11:30,” he said to Sandro, at the door, and the hungry driver sent his machine forward like an arrow. On the way to Café Cova for dinner Tarsis reflected complacently that the particulars of his scheme had been well executed. He had no concern, therefore, as to the outcome. Take care of the details and the generalities will take care of themselves, was a business adage of his own making that he had followed, to the consternation many a time of his larger-visioned rivals.

CHAPTER VII
A MESSAGE FROM ROME

Don Riccardo, from his secluded ground in the villa park, saw Tarsis’s car pass in the twilight, and guessed that the message to Rome was on its way. He thought the moment a good one, therefore, to take shelter indoors from the dewy air. Hera greeted him with a more cheerful countenance than he had seen her wear for many days, although she had made a brave effort to conceal her feelings. She told him what he already knew from the dialogue he had overheard a half-hour before. He made no concealment of his delight that Tarsis, after all, was not to be his son-in-law. Knowing that the blow was a heavy one for his sister, he went to her apartments to console her with some news he had heard that afternoon from his old friend Colonel Rosario, whose regiment of infantry was stationed at Castel-Minore. Over cognac and cigars in his quarters the commandant told Don Riccardo that Mario Forza, having inherited the large estate of his father, the Duke of Montenevica, was far from being a poor man—as yet.

“What do you mean by that ‘as yet’?” Don Riccardo had asked.

“It expresses the state of mind of certain of his heirs expectant,” the Colonel explained. “You see, Forza has contracted the helping habit—spends money for the good of others. His dreams for the betterment of the under dog are expensive, and his poor relations are alarmed lest he come to want.”