There was a sudden convulsive movement of the girl's arm and she gave an exclamation of annoyance as the golden thread snapped in her needle; but she did not look up.
Madama di Thénouris, closely watching, saw that her fingers trembled so that she could scarcely hold her needle.
"Tell me," she pursued in her leisurely fashion, after a slight pause, while Ecciva's needle still remained unthreaded, "what method shall we take to discover the identity of this unknown 'illustrissima'—this Madama di Niuna?"
The girl's alarm grew evidently less; but it was a moment more before she answered:
"Why doth your Excellency thus honor me, in calling me in counsel? There are others whose opinion would carry more weight."
"Nevertheless, since I have asked thee, give me thy thought."
"Madama di Niuna," the young maid of honor exclaimed petulantly, forgetting her deference, "there is no Madama di Niuna!—How should I know?" The silk was hopelessly knotted and twisted about the tiny pearl she had just threaded, requiring close attention; Madama di Thénouris also seemed to watch her work with interest.
"Thou art right, my child, thou art over-young to have any knowledge of so despicable an intrigue. But the matter is naturally of deep concern for us all," she added, as Ecciva, having recovered her perfect self-control lifted her eyes to Madama di Thénouris with a smile that was intended to thank her for her trust, while assuring her that there was no possible ground for supposing that she had any knowledge of this intrigue.
But the gray-haired court-lady met her gaze searchingly and with no answering smile—she who could be so gracious.
"The Council will follow a clue upon which they have just chanced, and which may lead to the discovery. If Madama di Niuna would come forward to confess," she pursued with quiet emphasis, "it might lessen the penalty for participation in this intrigue—which some among the Council tell us can be nothing less than death."