"What do you mean: 'if I had his words correctly'? Are you trying to say that Hester might have invented it?"
"Not everything, no—but some. What I find so surprising in the whole story is that she didn't come running here to warn you a week ago when this escapade of hers had only just taken place. That would have been the action of a friend. But instead she simply waited until she happened to meet you on the waterfront and then made haste to put you on your guard as soon as she saw that you were the possessor of a much larger and more comfortable vessel than any she could hope to find here to carry her to this eastern dream of hers. Once agree to take her to Egypt and she'll have you going right around the world."
"There's no question of my going around the world or even to Egypt." Then, struck by his reasoning, she added: "Do you really think she could have made it up?"
"That," Jolival said, "is what we have to find out. But whatever happens we had better speak to Prince Corrado before we decide anything at all. He is the prime cause of your being stuck here, as well as being your lawful husband, so it is for him to settle what is to be done. I'll send word to him at once and after that I'm going in search of a friend of mine who has the entree to the British embassy. He may be able to tell me how much truth there is in what Lady Hester told you."
"Jolival, do you really have English friends? You, of all people?" Marianne asked in surprise, knowing he had little love for the country where his wife had chosen to make her home.
"I have friends wherever necessary. But don't worry. This one is not English but Russian. He started life as a page to Catherine the Great and he has more friends in diplomatic circles than anyone I know."
Her friend's quiet good sense had done much to calm Marianne. She smiled at him over the piece of embroidery she had begun to occupy herself with during the long hours she spent resting on a sofa on the orders of Dr. Meryon, as he stood at the table and scribbled a few hurried lines.
"I see how it is. If your friend is as familiar with the insides of embassies as of gaming houses, he must be a mine of information."
Jolival shrugged, adjusted the set of his well-cut pearl-gray coat, picked up his hat and stick from a chair and, bending, dropped a light kiss on the top of Marianne's head.
"The trouble with you women," he said mildly, "is that you never appreciate how much we do for you. Now, just you stay here quietly until I come back and above all don't be at home to anyone. I shan't be long."
In fact he was back again in a remarkably short time but the happy confidence he had displayed on setting out had given way to a tension that was revealed in the heavy crease between his brows and the frequency with which he sought his snuff box. His mysterious and well-informed acquaintance had confirmed the acrimonious nature of that final interview between Lady Hester Stanhope and the British ambassador and also the fact of an imminent agreement between Canning and the sultan, but he knew nothing of British intentions toward the Princess Sant'Anna or whether her expulsion from Turkey was to form part of that agreement.
"There's no reason why it should not be true," Marianne cried. "If Canning is prepared to send packing a woman of Lady Hester's quality, and a niece of the late Lord Chatham also, why should he hesitate to deal with his country's enemy?"
"For one thing, he never threatened to send Lady Hester packing. According to Count Karazine, he merely told her she would do better to leave the city and not persist in making friends with 'those damned French.' Nothing more than that. And I'm inclined to believe he's right. Canning is too much the gentleman to talk of expulsion in connection with a lady."
"That only goes to prove that I am no lady in his eyes. Do you know, Jolival, he called me a 'pinchbeck princess!' "
"I can imagine that rankled with a daughter of the Marquis d'Asselnat but, as I said before, you mustn't overdramatize. As far as our friend is concerned, I'm quite sure of one thing. She'd rather leave the city of her own accord than wait for the results of the letter she wrote to Lord Wellesley in the first flush of her anger after her quarrel with Canning, making cruel fun of the ambassador. Read it for yourself."
Like a conjuror, Jolival suddenly produced a sheet of writing paper and held it out to Marianne. She took it automatically but with unconcealed amazement.
"But how do you come to have the letter?"
"Count Karazine again. He really is a most efficient fellow. This is only a copy, of course, and none too difficult to come by. Lady Hester was so angry that she could not resist the pleasure of reading her vindictive epistle to a few friends. Karazine was one of them and since he possesses an amazing memory… I must say, it's a remarkable document."
Marianne began to read the letter. The very first words made her smile.
"Mr. Canning," Hester had written, "is young and inexperienced, very zealous, but full of prejudice…" There followed a lively account of their differences and the masterly epistle ended: "In conclusion, I would entreat your lordship not to receive Mr. Canning with a mere stiff bow and a forbidding countenance or to permit the ladies to make fun of him. The best reward for all the services he has rendered would be to appoint him to be commander in chief and ambassador extraordinary to those peoples having the greatest need of the suppression of vice and the cultivation of patriotism: this last consisting in tying oneself in more knots than dervishes at the mere mention of the name of Bonaparte…"
Marianne laughed aloud.
"You shouldn't have shown me this letter, Arcadius. It's done me so much good that for a little more I'd take Hester to Alexandria after all! If Canning ever gets to hear of this—"
"But he knows already and lies awake at nights thinking about it, you may be sure. He must be haunted by hideous visions of the red dispatch box going the rounds of the Foreign Office to the general delight."
"Well, the ambassador's sleepless nights won't help me, Jolival. Far from it," Marianne said, suddenly serious again. "If he holds me responsible for Hester's pranks it will only make him hate me more than ever. So the question remains. What am I to do?"
"Nothing for the present, I'm afraid. Wait and let your husband decide for you, because I honestly don't know what to advise."
The answer came that very evening in the person of Prince Corrado, who arrived a little before sunset while Marianne was taking a gentle stroll in the garden on Jolival's arm. The blue mosaic paths were covered now with fallen leaves that rustled with a dry, papery sound as the hem of her dress brushed over them.
Corrado bowed to Marianne with his habitual frigid politeness and then clasped Jolival's hand.
"I was at home when your letter was brought to me," he said, "and I came at once. What has happened?"
In a few words the vicomte outlined to him the gist of what had passed between Marianne and Lady Hester Stanhope and of his own subsequent investigations. Corrado listened attentively and it was soon clear to Marianne that he was not taking the matter lightly. By the time Jolival had finished, the crease between his brows was mirrored on the prince's face.
"Lady Hester may have been exaggerating a good deal," the vicomte said at the end, "but then again, she may not. We have no means of finding out and we don't know what to do for the best."
Corrado thought for a moment.
"Exaggerated or not, the threat remains," he said at last. "We are obliged to take it seriously because with a man like Canning there is never any smoke without a fire. There must be a fair amount of truth in what you have been told." He turned to Marianne. "What do you want to do?"
"I don't want to do anything, Prince, except keep out of trouble. I think it is for you to decide for me, for are you not—are you not my husband?"