"I must risk it. Show me the way."
They went together down the almost dark corridor. Fay's heart sickened at the thought that a belated servant might see them. But all was quiet. At the head of the staircase they both peered over the balustrade. At its foot in a narrow circle of light stood the duke and Lord John, and a man with a tri-coloured sash. Even as they looked, the three turned and began slowly to mount the staircase.
Fay and Michael were back in her boudoir in a moment.
"There is a way out here," he said, indicating the door into her bedroom.
"It leads into my bedroom, and then through to Andrea's rooms. There is no passage, and he has a dog in his room. It would bark."
"I must go back to the garden again," he said, and instantly moved to the window. Both saw two carabinieri standing with a lantern at the foot of the balcony steps.
"If you go down now," said Fay hoarsely, "my reputation goes with you."
He looked at her.
It was as if his whole life were focussed on one burning point; how to save her from suspicion. If he could have shrivelled into ashes at her feet he would have done it. She saw her frightful predicament, and almost hated him.
The animal panic of being trapped caught them both simultaneously. He overcame it instantly, while she shook helplessly as in a palsy.