“Ah!” he cried, his face lighting with joy, “your search must have been a careless one, my dear Paola! Here is news for the Emperor, at last.”
He hurried from the room, and Paola, still smiling, rose and faced us.
“It is a great pity,” said he, pleasantly, with his eyes on my face, “that God permits any man to be a fool.”
Before I could reply he had followed Valcour from the room, and Piexoto, regarding me with a sullen frown, exclaimed:
“I can say amen to that! Why did you not tell me you had the ring?”
I did not reply. The taunts and the loss of the ring had dazed me and I sank into a chair and covered my eyes with my hands.
Pacing the room with furious energy, Piexoto growled a string of laments and reproaches into my unwilling ears.
“My poor comrades! It is their death-warrant. These records will condemn to punishment half the great families of Brazil. And now when the battle is almost won, to have them fall into the Emperor’s hands. Thank God, de Pintra is dead! This blow would be worse to him than death itself.”
“However,” said I, somewhat recovering myself, “we shall now secure his body from that grim vault. That is one satisfaction, at least.”
He did not see fit to reply to this, but paced the floor in as great agitation as before.