I had thanked her, and accepted.
Therefore on Tuesday night, with Lola and Madame both smartly dressed, I went to the huge, old fifteenth-century palace, grim and prison-like because of its heavily barred windows of the days when every palazzo was a fortress, and within found it the acme of luxury and refinement, its great salons filled with priceless pictures and ancient statuary, and magnificent furniture of the Renaissance.
About thirty people were present, most of them the élite of Naples society, all the ladies being exquisitely dressed. My hostess expressed delight as I bowed and raised her hand to my lips, in Italian fashion, and then I introduced my two companions. A few moments after I found myself chatting with the pretty Flavia, who, to my annoyance, seemed to be very inquisitive concerning my movements.
As I stood gossiping with her, my eyes fell upon a little Florentine table of polished black marble inlaid with colored stones forming a basket of fruit, a marvel of Renaissance art, and upon it there stood a silver model of a gigantic tarantula, or spider, the body being about seven inches long by five broad, with eight long curved legs, most perfectly copied from nature.
Flavia noticed that I had seen it.
“That’s our Silver Spider!” she laughed. “It’s the ancient mascot of the Romanelli.”
I walked over and examined it, but without, of course, taking it in my hand. Then I remarked upon its beautiful workmanship, and we turned away.
It was a gay informal assembly. Among the men there were several naval and military attachés from the Embassies, as well as one or two Deputies with their wives. Once or twice I had brief chats with the Marchesa, who, of course, was the center of her guests. One man, tall, with deep-set eyes and a well-trimmed black beard, seemed to pay her particular attention, and on discreet inquiry as to who he was, I discovered him to be the well-known banker, Pietro Zuccari, who represented Orvieto in the Chamber.
Now the reason of our visit to the Marchesa’s was to see what manner of company she kept, but I detected nothing suspicious in any person in that chattering assembly. Yet I could not put away from myself what Fra Pacifico had told me in the silence of the cloisters of San Domenico.
Again I looked upon the handsome face of that gay society woman and wondered what secret could be hidden behind that happy, laughing countenance.