“I can’t believe it.”
“Be patient, and you will soon see whether the facts I have gathered are true. The question is to be put at five o’clock. I will telephone to you the result as soon as it occurs. I am going down to the Chamber at once, and will do my very utmost; but, as you can see, against such overwhelming opposition I am utterly powerless. If we could prevent Montebruno from putting the fatal question we might gain time and perhaps succeed, but how can we prevent Borselli carrying out his ingenious conspiracy when he is assisted in it by a hundred hungry office-seekers and adventurers of the Socialist party?”
“Try! Try!” urged Camillo in a wild, desperate voice. “Try, Vito—for the sake of my poor wife and daughter.”
“Remain firm,” came back the voice of the deputy. “Be patient, and watch the result of the attempt to wreck the Government.”
“You are hopeless. I recognise it in your voice!” wailed the desperate man. “I know too well that all the blame and opprobrium must fall upon me. They intend, as you have already told me, that I shall be the scapegoat, and that Angelo shall take my portfolio.”
The deputy returned no answer. What, indeed, could he say? His Excellency, who was a shrewd, far-seeing man, spoke the truth.
“Ah, I know!” cried the Minister. “The plot is complete. For me, the future is hopeless. Yet I am more than mystified at what you tell me regarding Dubard. Try and discover his motive. Do not fail me in this, Vito, I beg of you. My poor daughter’s future depends on that.”
“Trust me, my dear friend,” was the response. “Spinola is awaiting me outside, and we are going down to Montecitorio together. Have courage, and after five o’clock I will ring you up again. Addio!”
And a moment later the tiny bell rang, which showed that the communication had been cut off.
Then Camillo Morini, after glancing at his watch and finding that it was already three o’clock, stood immovable, his dark eyes staring across the silent room like a man in a dream.