‘You are behaving in an improper manner with one of the maids. I cannot accept such behaviour in this household.’
Credé was dumbfounded but Pergami went on, ‘I will take all your sets of keys. I know that you have two.’
Alarmed, realizing that his affair with Annette might not be the true reason for his dismissal, Credé handed them over meekly and Pergami was about to ask why he had had the second set made, but he refrained from doing so. He would not in any case believe Credé’s explanation.
Credé stammered: ‘Is this not rather harsh to dismiss me because—’
‘Because of immorality?’ Pergami raised his eyebrows and looked Credé full in the face. ‘I do not think so. There is enough gossip about the Villa— all false tales. We have therefore to be particularly careful. I have no wish to discuss this matter further. You will leave immediately.’
With that he turned and left the bewildered Credé.
Dismissed from the Princess’s service, where could he find such opportunities again? Credé turned over the matter in his mind and decided that it was certainly not merely because of Annette that he had been turned out. There was another reason.
Could it be known that he had been working for d’Ompteda? If he made a confession of this, if he explained everything to the Princess, if he told her that he wished to be faithful to her and it was for this reason that he was confessing to her, he might be taken back.
The most important thing in the world was for him to be taken back.
He had the answer. It was confession.
He would not tell Pergami because he had a notion that Pergami would not listen so he wrote to the Chevalier Tomassia, one of the Princess’s equerries.
He was dismissed, he wrote, because of an intrigue with one of the Princess’s waiting women and he was full of remorse and hoped that the Chevalier would prevail upon the Princess to reinstate him. He deserved what had happened to him because he had been seduced from his duties by Baron d’Ompteda who was attempting to betray her. Baron d’Ompteda had asked him to procure keys which would enable a spy to be secreted in the Princess’s bedroom. He had been threatened by the Baron that if he did not obey he would be ruined and when the Baron had offered him money for his services he had given way. He knew that he had been wicked and he trusted that the chevalier would have pity on him and give him a chance to show his true repentance in his service to the Princess.
When Tomassio received this letter he took it immediately to Pergami.
So this was the answer, thought Pergami. How right he had been to dismiss the man!
Pergami went at once to Caroline and showed her Credé’s letter.
‘So Your Highness now has clear proof that we are being spied on,’ said Pergami.
‘d‘Ompteda!’ cried the Princess. ‘I should not have believed it of him. So Mrs. Fitzherbert’s husband has appointed him spy-in-chief. This makes me laugh.’
‘Perhaps Your Highness’s laughter should be tempered with caution.’
‘Dear, dear Bartolomeo, you are right as usual.’
The Baron d’Ompteda was asking for an audience with the Princess.
‘Tell the Baron,’ said Caroline to Pergami, ‘that I am having a reception to celebrate my homecoming. I shall expect him to be my guest.’
Pergami looked unhappy.
‘My dear good friend, leave this to me,’ she soothed him. ‘You know how outrageously I can behave when the need arises.’
So she had not learned the lesson, thought Pergami. She was going to receive d’Ompteda. She was going to snap her fingers at all the intrigues. ‘Where will this lead us?’ he asked his sister, Countess Oldi.
‘She is too warm-hearted, too forgiving,’ sighed the Countess.
But Caroline was on this occasion determined on revenge.
When d’Ompteda arrived at the reception, she called for Pergami to bring her a huge cardboard key and this she presented to him.
He looked bewildered. ‘My dear Baron,’ said Caroline, ‘knowing your love of keys I give you this one. I hope it will satisfy you.’
Caroline turned to Pergami who was standing by.
‘Please give the Baron one cup of coffee, and tell him that he may leave and that I do not wish to see him again.’
Publicly dismissed! Before all these people he was given the great key and a cup of coffee. What humiliation! He understood that someone had betrayed him and immediately thought of Credé. This was disaster, for he had failed in his mission. What hope had he now of secreting himself in the Princess’s bedchamber!
Captain Hownam sent a challenge to d’Ompteda. In view of certain facts which had come to light concerning his behaviour, he challenged him to a duel.
D’Ompteda was to name the place and he would inform his seconds without delay.
The wretched d’Ompteda did not reply; he had reported to Hanover and was awaiting instructions. If ever a spy had made a hash of a mission he was that spy.
Caroline meanwhile had heard about the challenge. She did not wish dear Captain Hownam to risk his life for that worthless creature, she declared, so she wrote to the governor of Naples telling him how her privacy had been invaded while she was in Italy and begged him to intervene on her behalf.
D’Ompteda was ordered to leave the country; and this he did almost gratefully and with the utmost speed.
Tragedy in England
THE Villa d’Este had lost all charm for her. Every time she went into her bedroom she wondered whether anyone was spying on her. Her conduct became even more suspicious. She could not help it. It was her nature to behave more indecorously simply because she was suspected of immorality. She walked about with scarcely any clothes on. She allowed Pergami to be in her bedroom when she was there alone. It was some mischievous spirit in her which drove her to such conduct. It was like that occasion when she had pretended to be in labour knowing perfectly well that in the future it would be believed by many people that she actually had been.
She was misunderstood. She had always been misunderstood. She was not promiscuous. She had dreamed of love and marriage and a family of children.
That was what she had wanted. If they had allowed her to marry Töbingen she would have been a happy wife and mother. But they had separated her from him; they had married her to a man who loathed her and made no secret of his loathing and her brief experience with him had not made her long for more physical relationships. But could she explain this to people when they so clearly believed the opposite?
She was affectionate towards those who served her; she was familiar; but she did not seek the ultimate familiarity. No, she had no lover in the full sense of the word, but she liked to pretend she had. It amused her to pretend, also to deceive her husband in a topsy-turvy way. Deceive him into thinking she was an unfaithful wife.
She laughed at the thought. He provides enough infidelity for one family, she told herself. What she enjoyed doing was shocking people, making them speculate about the wild and immoral life she led; let them make up fantastic stories about her and her lovers. They were now linking her name with that of Pergami. Let them! She loved Pergami in her way. He was a good chamberlain who managed her affairs with skill; he amused her; he was a very good friend.
But he was not her lover and there was no sexual relationship between them. Nor would there be with any man.
There was something she kept from people. She did not want to think too much about it herself, but there was a mysterious recurring pain in the region of her stomach which at times she found almost unendurable. Then it would pass and she would attempt to forget it. She had mentioned it to her doctor but he could not say what it was and, like her, hoped it would pass. She was fifty-two years of age. When she removed her wig and the white lead and rouge she looked like an old woman. Scarcely one to indulge in riotous behaviour with lovers of all classes.