For Marianne's sake, however, Jolival forced himself to speak calmly.
"Well, what are you crying for, my dear?" he said, folding the letter and laying it aside. "There is nothing here but what you yourself have agreed to and desired."
She turned her great green eyes on him, filled with an immense surprise.
"But, Arcadius," she said in a small voice, "don't you understand? He has gone… they have all gone… and my son with them."
She was trembling like a leaf in the wind. He went to her and took her gently by the arm to lead her back to bed. Her skin was icy cold.
"But, my dear," he reproached her tenderly, "isn't that what you wanted? Think back. You wanted to go to Jason, to become his wife and begin a new life with him, have other children…"
She passed her hand across her forehead as though waking from a dream.
"Perhaps… yes, I think I did want that, and even nothing else. But that was before."
He made no attempt to elicit a fuller explanation. Indeed, that was before. Before she had held a tiny body in her arms, a little thing that was soft and tender with a tiny fist that had closed imperiously on her finger as though to take possession.
"The prince cannot have gone far," he ventured, helpless in the face of such unhappiness. "Would you like us to try and catch him? Osman—"
"Osman doesn't know where his master has gone. I sent for him when they gave me that dreadful letter after I woke. He knows nothing of his intentions and never asks questions. Turhan Bey is absent frequently and often for long periods. To please me, he promised to go to the harbor and see what he could discover, but I have no great hopes. The prince may be already far out to sea."
"In this weather, with a newborn babe? Nothing of the sort!"
"Then he is hiding and it is a waste of time to look for him. He told me himself that after the birth he would vanish with the child. He has kept his word and I have no right to blame him."
"Did no one tell him last night that you had taken to the child after all? I gather from this letter that you did not see him again after we left?"
"No. Oh, Arcadius, I was so wretched that I didn't think I wanted to see anyone, not even Donna Lavinia. I must have cried half the night."
She was shivering more and more, from a combination of cold and nerves. Jolival went quickly to a chair and fetched her favorite big red cashmere shawl and wrapped it around her. Then he hunted for slippers for her bare feet. Bending to put them on, he saw that the thing which he had taken for a small glittering snake, lying like the serpent's head beneath the foot of the Virgin, was in fact a magnificent emerald and diamond necklace. He took it up and let it hang for a moment between his fingers.
Guessing that it was the final princely gift from her husband, he would have forborne to question her about it, but Marianne moved suddenly and snatched it from him with a sudden blaze of anger and hurled it under a chest.
"Let it lie! It's my payment! I don't want it."
"Are you mad? I'm very sure the prince had no such idea."
"What else? To him I am only a foolish woman to be bought. From there it is only a step to thinking that a handful of jewels will easily compensate me for the loss of my child. Oh, I hate him, I hate him! I hate all men! All they know how to do is follow their own blind, senseless desires and fight and make idiotic wars which they all rush to join in as if they were glorious treats, without a thought for those they leave behind them! Why do they have to have sons only to bring them up the same way?"
"Marianne, calm yourself! You can't change the world and you will only make yourself ill…"
"What does it matter? What does it matter even if I die? Who would care—except you, perhaps? Jason is no better than the rest. He has bullied and misused me to make me forget my duty and my country, he has treated me worse than one of the slaves on his family's plantation and now he leaves me here, abandons me to go running off to a war that is not even declared yet and may never take place. Do you think he cares for my tears and my unhappiness, or even for the simple fact of how I am to accomplish the immense journey across half the world to join him? Who is to say that the ship that carries us won't fall into the hands of pirates like the Kouloughis? But all that is nothing to Jason Beaufort compared to his beloved battles! At this very minute he is sailing off to America without a care in his heart—"
Jolival seized on this as his opportunity to shake Marianne out of her despairing mood. He knew the ups and downs of her volatile temperament in which the French and Italian elements predominated over the English, too well not to be sure that Jason's present danger would sweep away all her anger against him in an instant. For even if the privateer had taken second place in her memory just then to the newer attractions of the baby, Marianne's true feelings could not have undergone a change in that short time. She loved him still and even her immediate anger was only another proof of it.
"I'd not be too sure of that," he said. "Indeed, to be quite honest he's not sailing toward America at all. Quite the opposite, in fact."
As he had expected, Marianne's rage collapsed at once, like the sails of a ship in dead calm. In its place there came the old, anxious look which was certainly by far her most familiar sensation when she thought of her difficult love. But Jolival embarked at once on an account of what had taken place by the Tower of the Maiden, giving her no time to ask questions.
Almost before he had finished, Marianne had rushed from the room, forgetting her weak state and the fact that she was not supposed to be out of her bed yet, and was hurrying in the direction of the tandour, without even pausing to try her strength.
She did not get very far. Out in the covered way she was forcibly reminded of her weakness. She swayed and would have fallen but for Jolival, who had hastened after and was there to catch her.
"Don't be silly. Let me take you back to your room."
Her eyes flashed dangerously.
"If you don't take me to the tandour this instant, Jolival, I will never set eyes on you again as long as I live."
He was obliged to do as she asked. Half-supporting and half-carrying her, the wretched Arcadius succeeded in getting Marianne as far as her favorite lookout place, where they were just in time to see the Sea Witch, light as a seagull, driving under full sail past the gilded lattices of the palace where they stood.
"Oh, God," Marianne groaned, "if they open fire now it will be murder! Look at the towers of Rumeli Hissar! They are crowded with janissaries!"
"If only—" Jolival began. But before he could finish, as if Jason had divined the thought in his mind, the impudent stars were descending swiftly from the masthead. A moment later another flag was creeping up to take their place. With unspeakable relief Marianne and Jolival recognized the lion and the flaming T which had protected the Sea Witch while she lay in harbor.
"Thank God!" Marianne breathed, sinking back onto the cushions. "He had the sense to pocket his pride and do the one thing that could save him from the Turkish guns."
The guns fired nonetheless, but it was only a friendly salute to a vessel of Turhan Bey's. The tiny puffs of white smoke bloomed above the ancient ramparts of Mehmet the Conqueror like waving handkerchiefs held in friendly hands.
The Sea Witch passed on and dwindled. Soon she had vanished into the mist and Admiral Maxwell's squadron hove into sight. But the pursuit seemed to have lost its enthusiasm. With a sigh of relief, Jolival crossed to a small table on which stood coffee things and a pair of decanters. He poured himself a full glass of raki and swallowed it at a gulp.