Lady Marshfield, a few minutes later, rose and passed into the small inner room—a signal for her guests to follow. Then, when they had entered, the door was locked, Romanelli alone remaining outside in the drawing-room to guard against the possibility of any of the servants acting as eavesdropper. A table had been placed in the centre of the apartment, and around this they at once assembled, while Nenci, opening the lady’s dressing-bag which he carried, took therefrom a small oblong box of polished oak, which he set upon the table, afterwards displaying the exquisite replica of the bust of the reigning sovereign of Italy.
“Beautiful!” they all cried with one accord. “Nothing could be better!”
“Its action is marvellous,” Malvano explained. “We have already tried it. The effect is frightful. When set, it contains explosives enough to reduce every house in this street to ruins.”
They looked at one another and shuddered.
“It’s really very inoffensive-looking,” her ladyship remarked, raising her glasses, deeply interested. “I hope it isn’t charged!”
“Oh dear, no,” Nenci laughed, taking it in his hand. “I’ve brought it here to show how the mechanism is contrived;” and bending towards her, he opened its malachite base, showing the empty receptacle for the explosive compound, the hole for the tiny tube of acid, and the small clockwork mechanism no larger than a watch imbedded deeply in cotton-wool, so as to be noiseless. Standing at the table, he glanced keenly from one to the other as he explained its working. As he handled the bust tenderly, his keen black eyes seemed to shine with an evil light.
When he had concluded, he replaced the mechanical portions he had removed, and put the bust back into the dressing-bag beside him.
“No, no,” Malvano said, smiling grimly, some minutes later. “Don’t hide it away, Lionello. It’s well worth our admiration, and does you credit. This is the last time we shall have an opportunity of seeing it, so let it remain on the table.”
All joined in a chorus of laughter and approbation, and Nenci, fumbling in the bag at his side, reproduced it and placed it upon the table in full view of their gaze. At that moment Gemma, deep in conversation with her ladyship, did not notice that the bust was before them, and not until Nenci and Malvano had left the room together in order to consult with the foppishly dressed young man outside in the drawing-room, did she detect its presence.
Then, with a sudden scream of wild alarm, she dashed forward, her bare arms raised in despair, crying—