What her father had told her of the incident in the Chamber that afternoon revealed the truth. Dubard had, by his clever scheming, succeeded in postponing the blow until after she had become his wife. She knew well his intimate friendship with Angelo Borselli, and felt assured that it was in the interests of the Under-Secretary that he had opened that safe which His Excellency had believed to be closed so effectively to everyone.
“You will seek to retaliate, will you not?” she asked her father suddenly. “You will surely not allow Borselli another opportunity of conspiring against you! He should be removed from office upon some pretext or other.”
Her father smiled at her words, and replied—
“It would be easy to retaliate, my dear, but it would be unwise.”
“Why? If he remains in office, he may to-morrow, or on some occasion when you least expect it, level a blow that might crush you?”
“I know! I know!” he groaned. “I am not safe by any means. Until Vito discovers what has really occurred I must remain patiently inactive.”
“But why not remove Borselli from office? You could surely do that! It is your duty to yourself to do so!”
“Ah! You do not know everything, Mary,” answered her father very gravely. “To attempt his dismissal at the present moment would be a most injudicious course. By making charges against him I should also implicate myself. If I spoke a single word to his detriment, it would be suicidal. I should be seeking my own downfall.”
“Then, to speak plainly, you are unable to dismiss him?” she said in a low, distinct voice, looking her father straight in the face with a glance of reproach. “You are entirely in that man’s hands?”
His Excellency, grave and thoughtful again, nodded in the affirmative, sighed heavily, and then admitted—