knew that story and lived it over again, having no need to recall
it aloud in order to make certain that they had fully penetrated one
another's soul.

Pierre did not immediately answer the old man. "Oh!" he murmured at last,
"there were frightful things, yes, frightful things."

"No doubt--that is what I suspected," resumed Orlando. "You can tell us
all. In presence of death my son has freely forgiven."

The young Count's gaze again sought that of Pierre with such weight, such
ardent entreaty that the priest felt deeply stirred. He had just
remembered that man's anguish during the ball, the atrocious torture of
jealousy which he had undergone before allowing Destiny to avenge him.
And he pictured also what must have been his feelings after the terrible
outcome of it all: at first stupefaction at Destiny's harshness, at this
full vengeance which he had never desired so ferocious; then icy calmness
like that of the cool gambler who awaits events, reading the newspapers,
and feeling no other remorse than that of the general whose victory has
cost him too many men. He must have immediately realised that the
Cardinal would stifle the affair for the sake of the Church's honour; and
only retained one weight on his heart, regret possibly for that woman
whom he had never won, with perhaps a last horrible jealousy which he did
not confess to himself but from which he would always suffer, jealousy at
knowing that she lay in another's arms in the grave, for all eternity.
But behold, after that victorious effort to remain calm, after that cold
and remorseless waiting, Punishment arose, the fear that Destiny,
travelling on with its poisoned figs, might have not yet ceased its
march, and might by a rebound strike down his own father. Yet another
thunderbolt, yet another victim, the most unexpected, the being he most
adored! At that thought all his strength of resistance had in one moment
collapsed, and he was there, in terror of Destiny, more at a loss, more
trembling than a child.

"The newspapers, however," slowly said Pierre as if he were seeking his
words, "the newspapers must have told you that the Prince succumbed
first, and that the Contessina died of grief whilst embracing him for the
last time.... As for the cause of death, _mon Dieu_, you know that
doctors themselves in sudden cases scarcely dare to pronounce an exact
opinion--"

He stopped short, for within him he had suddenly heard the voice of
Benedetta giving him j