‘Have you found out what happened to your father?’ I asked her.
Her eyes clouded. ‘Yes — a little. He will not tell me all. He and the general letectva landed at Milan as arranged. They were met by this man Sansevino and another man. They have pistols and they tie Lemlin and my father up and then they fly to the villa where we find you this evening. They land in a vineyard of very young bushes. The next night my father is brought up to the monastery, chained to the wall in that terrible tower like a convict and then tortured. When this Sansevino learn that my father has not what he wants and that you have it, then he leave. An old man called Agostino bring them food every day. That is all. They see no one else until Maxwell and the Contessa arrive.’ The grip of her fingers tightened on my hand. ‘I think he will wish me to say he is sorry to have involve you in this business. He will tell you himself when he is recovered.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘I’m only sorry—’
‘Do not reproach yourself please. And I am sorry I was so stupid that time in Milan and again in Naples. I did not realise then. …” Her voice trailed away and she dropped her eyes. ‘You have been wonderful, Dick.’
‘You don’t understand,’ I said. ‘I was scared stiff. That man who posed as Shirer—’
‘I do understand. Max told me all about what happened to you at the Villa d’Este.’
‘I see.’
‘You do not see,’ she said angrily. ‘It makes what you have done—’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I cannot put it into words.’
The blood was suddenly singing in my veins. She believed in me. She wasn’t like Alice. She believed in me. She offered hope for the future. I gripped her hand. The grey eyes that stared up at me were suddenly full of tears. She looked away quickly and where the dust had been rubbed from her skin I saw the freckles reaching to the neat shape of her ears. I looked past her to the gaunt remains of Santo Francisco and the mountain behind it with the great belching column of smoke and the broad bands of the lava and I was glad I’d been there. It was as though I’d been cleansed by fire, as though the anger of the mountain had burned all the fear out of me and left me sure of myself again.
‘Stop! Stop!’ It was Hacket and he was shouting at Zina. She tugged on the reins and the American jumped down. … He ran back up the road and picked up something lying in the ash at the side.