She thus reproached him for a crime that he had committed at her instigation. A moment more and this great lord would have demeaned himself to brutalities worthy of a lacquey, but with a look of contempt Magdalena swept past him and left the room. And now, crushed into a large arm-chair, the Marquis sat with his eyes fixed on the floor.
"Count Fernando de Vellebri wishes to see you," a servant knocked at the door to say.
"One moment!" answered the Marquis.
He hurried to his dressing room, bathed his face in cold water and hastily brushed his fast whitening hair. He took his seat at his desk, which was covered with papers.
"Show Monsieur de Vellebri up," he said.
He shuddered as he spoke, for he had learned through Cyprien that this Fernando belonged to the society of the Jesuits. The young man entered.
He was no longer the obsequious person with the stereotyped smile, who had done the will of the Vicomte de Talizac. Dressed in black, a long single-breasted coat, Fernando was the type of the Jesuits who pervaded French society. His dark hair rendered his pallor more remarkable. His half closed eyes were brilliant in spite of their heavy lids.
Fongereues divined a contest. What new struggle would he be compelled to undergo? He pointed to a chair, but the Italian bowed and remained standing.
"You wished to see me," said the Marquis, "and I am at your service. But what is this costume? I was not aware that you belonged to any religious society, officially, at least."
"As to my claims to this dress," answered De Vellebri, coldly, "I am quite ready to explain them, if you will condescend to listen to me."