your Highness not be
better in the open?"

"No, no," she persisted. "Unbar the shutters and we shall have air
enough. I love a deserted house: I have always fancied that if one came
in noiselessly enough one might catch the ghosts of the people who used
to live in it."

He obeyed in silence, and the green-filtered forest noon filled the room
with a quiver of light. A chill stole upon Odo as he looked at the
dust-shrouded furniture, the painted harpsichord with green mould
creeping over its keyboard, the consoles set with empty wine flagons and
goblets of Venice glass. The place was like the abandoned corpse of
pleasure.

But Maria Clementina laughed and clapped her hands. "This is
enchanting," she cried, throwing herself into an arm-chair of threadbare
damask, "and I shall rest here while you refresh me with a glass of
Lacrima Christi from one of those dusty flagons. They are empty, you
say? Never mind, for I have a flask of cordial in my saddle-bag. Fetch
it, cousin, and wash these two glasses in the spring, that we may toast
all the dead lovers that have drunk out of them."

When Odo returned with the flask and glasses, she had brushed the dust
from a slender table of inlaid wood, and drawn a seat near her own. She
filled the two goblets with cordial and signed to Odo to seat himself
beside her.

"Why do you pull such a glum face?" she cried, leaning over to touch his
glass before she emptied hers. "Is it that you are thinking of poor
Cerveno? On my soul, I question if he needs your pity! He had his hour
of folly, and was too gallant a gentleman not to pay the shot. For my
part I would rather drink a poisoned draught than die of thirst."

The wine was rising in waves of colour over her throat and brow, and
setting her glass down she suddenly laid her ungloved hand on Odo's.

"Cousin," she said in a low voice, "I could help you if you would let
me."

"Help me?" he said, only half-aware of her words in the warm surprise of
her touch.

She drew back, but with a look that seemed to leave her hand in his.

"Are you mad," she murmured, "or do you despise your danger?"

"Am I in danger?" he echoed smiling. He was thinking how easily a man
might go under in that deep blue gaze of hers. She dropped her lids as
though aware of his thought.

"Why do you concern yourself with politics?" she went on with a new note
in her voice. "Can you find no diversion more suited to your rank and
age? Our court is a dull one,