"You know the Master, then?" inquired Paul of Barbara. "What is his name?"
"Cardinal Ravenna."
"The Master is a cardinal, I believe," said Lambro. "Ravenna? Humph! I have heard him called that by—by some; but it's not the name he usually bears when here."
"You serve a very bad master, Lambro," said Barbara reproachfully.
The old Palicar shrugged his shoulders in lieu of a reply.
Paul here recalled Lambro's remark to the effect that the Master belonged to a peculiar brotherhood pledged to the repudiation of women. This misogyny was now explained. But why should the abode of a Roman ecclesiastic contain a lady's bedchamber kept in a state of preparation for an occupant? Paul glanced at Jacintha as if seeking an explanation from her, but the old Greek had set a warning eye upon his partner, and under that glittering terror Jacintha became mute.
"You have broken the Master's seal," grumbled Lambro, turning to Barbara. "He will learn that some one has been in that room. What excuse am I to make to him?"
"How did you discover the secret panel?" asked Paul of Barbara, and paying but scant respect to the Palicar's complaint.
"By accident," she replied. "Sleeping or waking that violet wax has exercised a fascination over me. Yesterday, attracted by an indefinable impulse, I stole into the bedchamber. Conjecturing that the panel might be a movable one, I began to search for the spring. Fortune favored my endeavors; I discovered the hidden corridor, but did not venture within. To-day when I heard you relate the story of Ginevra, I thought it would be a piece of fun to hide behind the panel and get you to search for me. While standing there in concealment the impulse came upon me to go forward and explore. I ascended the two staircases, and entered the upper room by a panel which I found open. Till that moment curiosity had been my only feeling, but as soon as I entered the gray twilight of that room I found myself trembling; the place seemed like a haunted chamber. And yet frightened though I was I could not retreat. Some strange power drew me on to the centre of the apartment, and there I stood looking around for—I know not what. I could hear your far-off cries, but I hesitated to answer lest the sound of my voice should call forth something terrible from this silent chamber.
"Then suddenly the sight of a lady's portrait hanging on the wall impelled me forward and almost made me forget my fears. The portrait was so like me that at first I thought it must be mine, but I know it cannot be."