“A good deal. But here the very walls have ears,” was the answer. “I have come in search of you.”
“Well?” asked the Minister of War in abrupt surprise, recollecting the warning Ricci had already given him.
“Come with me. I know my way about this place,” Borselli said. “There is an anteroom at the end of the south corridor where we can talk without risk of eavesdroppers.”
Their host, Baron Riboulet, the French Ambassador, a tall, handsome, brown-bearded man, stopped and greeted the pair at that moment, while several other personages well-known in Roman society came up to pay their respects to His Excellency the Minister. Then at last the Under-Secretary managed to whisper—
“Let’s get away. I must see you without further delay. Come.”
And together they strolled through the magnificent salons with their brilliant crowds and presently entered a small, barely furnished room in a distant part of the historic old palace which is now the residence of the representative of the French Republic. As soon as they were within Borselli switched on the electric light, closed the door and locked it.
When he turned to the Minister the latter saw that his countenance had changed. He was pale and anxious, as though he had information of the highest importance to impart.
“Well?” asked Morini, wondering why he had brought him there so mysteriously.
“I have been in London again,” the other exclaimed. “The truth of the Sazarac affair is known!”
Camillo Morini held his breath, his brows knit themselves, and his teeth were set hard. If this were a fact, then Borselli himself must have revealed the truth, for he alone knew it. What Ricci had told him had opened his eyes to this fellow’s secret intentions. This was, no doubt, part of the vile, despicable conspiracy to secure the downfall of the Ministry. He knew that Angelo Borselli, the ambitious schemer with the rank of general, who owed everything to him, was his bitterest opponent, and he now saw an opportunity of fathoming the ingenious ramifications of the plot that was to effect his ruin. He was, however, too well versed in statesmanship to betray in his face the inner workings of his mind, and Borselli, notwithstanding that consummate craft which was his most prominent characteristic, had no suspicion that his chief was aware of the conspiracy.