The Rape of Venice (6 page)

The vases were filled with many-hued Phlox Drummondi and, pointing at the nearest, Malderini made some remark to his wife in her own language. She returned a low-voiced reply, then he said to Roger. ‘The Princess Sirisha has a great fondness for flowers. Her name, you know, is that of a particularly beautiful flower that grows in her native country.'

‘Indeed,' replied Roger. ‘Then let us go to the rose garden and the herbaceous borders. We'll visit the hot-houses too. They contain many tropical plants and the Princess may find there several with which she is familiar.'

As they strolled through the gardens to the west of the house, pausing now and then to admire a vista between box hedges, a fountain, a lead figure, or some specially lovely bed of flowers, Roger made no attempt to turn the conversation to the state of things in Italy. After a quarter of an hour it struck him that he might be shirking the job because it meant working against his own convictions, but he quickly reassured himself, as it was obviously sounder policy to endeavour first to get on terms with the Venetian. That would not be easy, for his heavy features held no trace of bonhomie, and his curious mind-probing eyes no hint of desire to make himself liked. Even so, given a little time, there was every reason to suppose that in the course of conversation he would make some remark about the war, and so provide a natural opening, it was, after all, only Saturday morning, and that strengthened Roger's feeling that there was no hurry yet to grasp the ugly nettle.

They spent a further twenty minutes in a leisurely progress round the glasshouses. Malderini proved very knowledgeable about plants and his conversation with Roger disclosed a quick, well-ordered mind—another depressing indication that, when they did get to business, he would prove a hard nut to crack. To his wife he scarcely said a word and she never spoke unless first addressed by him. Roger felt deeply sorry for her but could do no more than give her an occasional friendly smile. More and more he wished the weekend over and that, having done his best for Mr. Pitt, he would never be called on to set eyes on Rinaldo Malderini again.

It was shortly after they had entered the orchid house that they caught sight of one of Georgina's footmen, and another man, hurrying towards them. The footman pointed Roger out, then the other, who wore a plain riding livery, came through
the glass door, removed his hat and, taking a letter from a leather pouch at his waist, handed it to Roger. A glance at the seal showed him that it was from the Prime Minister. With a word of apology to his companions, he tore it open and ran his eye over the single paragraph. It read:

If you have not yet opened the business with Signor R. M. refrain from doing so. I have just learnt that, contrary to my expectations, after spending three weeks as a private person in the other camp, he accompanied his ambassador to the Foreign Office on Friday morning and presented credentials as a Plenipotentiary Extraordinary. Now that my cousin, Grenville, is in a position to put our cards on the table openly, I shall have no further need of you as intermediary. W.P.

Malderini coughed and remarked politely, ‘I trust that this urgent message does not contain bad news.'

‘The very contrary,' Roger laughed. ‘For a friend I had undertaken a most uncongenial task, and one which I was convinced would cost him a lot of money to no good purpose. He writes me now that he relieves me of it; so I could not be more delighted.'

Thrusting the letter into his pocket, he gave expression to his pleasure by dismissing the messenger with a guinea, then cutting some of Georgina's choicest orchids and, with a bow, laying them in the slim brown hands of the Princess.

But he was wrong in his belief that now he would never have cause to remember the ugly Venetian and the beautiful Indian except as the most casual acquaintances, and that he would not be called on to play any further part in the affairs of Venice. Fate, in the person of Mr. Pitt, had woven the first tenuous thread that had brought the three of them together. It was soon to coil and strengthen into a terrible bond that would alter the whole course of their lives, and a time was to come when Roger would hold the fate of the thousand-years-old Serene Republic in the hollow of his hand.

That afternoon Georgina took her guests into Guildford. The drive through the well-wooded countryside made a pleasant excursion, and it had occurred to her that with such difficult guests as the Malderinis a visit to Guildford caves would serve to while away an hour or so. The caves were a natural formation but had been occupied by primitive man from great antiquity.

Provided with a candle apiece and led by a guide, they traversed the narrow tunnels and halted in the larger chambers, a little awed by the weird effects of their shadows on the rough hewn walls and ceilings. When they were assembled in the largest cave there came a sudden sharp cry. It was uttered by Sheridan's wife as her husband, bored with the caves, had decided to lighten the solemnity which had descended on the party by pinching her bottom.

The dim light hid her blushes, but much embarrassed she stammered out, ‘I ... I thought I felt a ghostly hand touch my cheek.'

Malderini, who was standing near her, shook his head and, speaking in French as usual, declared in his rather high-pitched voice, ‘Maybe it was so, Madame. If you are psychic you may well have felt the touch of the long-dead in such a place as this. Yours was not the only cry that I have heard these past few minutes. The despairing screams of virgins being dragged to the sacrifice still echo round the walls. I have but to look at yonder archway to see the bearded priests with their long knives and the terror on the faces of their victims.'

‘I take it, Sir, that you are drawing on your imagination to supplement your theories as an antiquary about what may have
taken place here,' remarked Colonel Thursby, drily.

Malderini turned sharply upon him. ‘Not at all! Not at all! Certain people have the power to see beyond the veil, and I am one of them. Given propitious circumstances I can both look back into the past and foresee the future.'

Georgina, on her mother's side, had gipsy blood, and had inherited the gift of telling fortunes. She said to the Venetian: ‘I, too, have often secured accurate glimpses of the future, but seen outside their context such glimpses can, at times, be pestiferously misleading.'

‘More frequent practice should enable your Ladyship to assess their meaning with greater accuracy. What vehicle do you use to make contact with the unseen powers?'

‘I used to gaze into a goblet filled with pure spring water; but, some years ago, I suffered an experience with regard to my own future which was so unnerving that I decided to abandon such seeking after hidden knowledge.'

‘Few decisions could be harder to justify,' Malderini replied somewhat rudely. ‘Psychic gifts are rare and should be cherished by those who have them. You should renew your contact with the spirit-world and would be well advised to do so through a human medium. I studied in Paris under the famous Doctor Mesmer and learned from him how to turn the minds of others into far more potent vehicles than crystals, cards and such impedimenta. It is a fundamental of the Secret Art that all occult operations require the exertion of will, and you would find your powers greatly increased if you brought under your control the subconscious mind of some lesser personality.'

‘You speak as though you would have us believe you to be a magician,' Sheridan said in a slightly mocking tone.

‘If, my friend, by that designation you imply a person who by will-power can cause phenomena to occur which are ordinarily regarded as impossible, then I may certainly claim to be one.'

‘My daughter has compelled me to recognise that some people are gifted with second sight,' the Colonel remarked, ‘but I still cannot believe it possible to bring about material happenings solely through the exercise of will, even if given the help of the Devil.'

‘Then, Sir, it is high time that someone showed you to be in error,' the Venetian retorted, ‘and if you wish, on our return to Stillwaters, I will prove my point by a demonstration.'

‘You shall, Sir, by all means,' replied the Colonel quickly. ‘I have ever taken the greatest interest in all forms of science, and surely the moving of mountains, or even of molehills, without the application of physical force, must be counted a scientific triumph.'

No more was said on the subject, at the time, but they had hardly descended from the carriages before Beckford raised it again by saying, ‘I can hardly contain my impatience to witness the demonstration that Signor Malderini has promised us. When and where is it to take place?'

‘Without preparations of an involved nature, and an opportunity to refresh my memory on certain rituals, it can be no more than a simple one,' replied the Venetian, ‘but that I will give you whenever and wherever you wish.'

Georgina was loath to pursue the matter. She had an uneasy feeling that no good would come of it; but, in view of Beckford's eagerness and that others in the party were backing him up, she had little option; so she said, ‘Now that we are returned, a syllabub will shortly be served in the Orangery for our refreshment. Let us go there and drink it while Signor Malderini performs his promised marvels.'

In the lofty Orangery a semi-circle of basket chairs was set among the brass-bound tubs in which grew the bushes with their small, unripe, but decorative fruit. Malderini asked for some slips of paper to be brought, then, as they sipped from their cups of well-iced wine beaten up with thick cream, he said:

‘Four or five of you will oblige me by writing questions on these pieces of paper. They must be questions the answers to which might reasonably be supposed to come within my knowledge. I shall then mesmerise the Princess Sirisha and, when her mind has become completely under my control, put your questions to her. As you are aware, in her normal state she has the unhappiness to be deprived of the pleasure of conversing with you because she can speak no tongue other than her own. But, while she is in a state of trance, I shall imbue her with powers which she does not ordinarily possess. Having written your questions add to them the word French, English, Italian or German, and she will give you the answer in which ever language you have selected.'

There was a subdued murmuring as the papers were passed round, Colonel Thursby, Beckford, Sheridan, his wife, and Droopy Ned all wrote out questions. Malderini glanced
through them and agreed them to be reasonable ones, then he led his wife to a vacant chair at one end of the semi-circle, stepped a few paces back from her, and asked that complete silence should be observed. As the hush fell, he lifted his plump, heavily be-ringed hands, and began to make a succession of slow complicated passes in front of his wife's face.

After a few minutes her eyelids drooped and closed, her breathing became irregular, her limbs jerked spasmodically and her head rolled about on her shoulders. Suddenly she became rigid, remained so for several moments, then as suddenly relaxed. She gave a heavy sigh and sat up. Her eyes opened again but they now held only a blank stare.

Taking one of the papers from his pocket, Malderini gave her in her own language a translation of the question written upon it. There was a tense moment while the muscles of her throat contracted and her mouth opened and shut soundlessly, as though in a desperate but futile effort to speak; then the words came, slowly at first but coherently, and in Italian she gave a perfectly sensible answer to the question.

The Venetian repeated the process with the other questions and to each she replied in the language requested on the paper. Her English and German were noticeably less good than her Italian and French, but Malderini had clearly implied that the power with which he intended to imbue her came from himself; so it was natural that her vocabulary in these languages should be limited to his own.

It was a most impressive performance and, when the last question had been answered, Clarissa exclaimed, ‘How truly marvellous! Could you, Signor, perform such miracles with any of us?'

Malderini regarded her fixedly for a moment, then he shook his head. ‘Not with anyone. Signorina. I need to be in close
rapport
with my subject. But, with people who are psychic, such a bond is not difficult to form, and I can tell at a glance anyone who would prove a suitable subject.'

‘May one ask how?'

‘By their aura. It was not without reason that the old Masters always depicted the Saints with golden haloes. All of us carry with us such an indication of our basic characteristics, as auras vary in colour. Those of born warriors are bright red, those for whom all things grow readily, apple-green. A yellow aura denotes a religious nature and a magenta aura a person given over to evil.'

‘Do you really mean that you can see such auras—that we have them now, about our heads, at the present moment?'

‘Yes; with what is termed “the third eye”. That is the focal point of psychic perception, and it lies beneath the bone in the centre of the forehead. Everyone has it but in most people it is rudimentary. Very few develop it, as I have done by long training, to a state at which I can use it consciously. Both Lady Georgina's aura and yours are blue, indicating the possession of psychic qualities. Hers is the stronger but, with either of you, I could, in quite a short while, establish a
rapport.'

Clarissa's blue eyes lit up. ‘I find the subject fascinating. Would it be asking too much that before you leave Stillwaters you will experiment upon me?'

He bowed. ‘If you will later name a time and place, I shall be happy to do so, Signorina. But now I must arouse the Princess Sirisha from her trance.'

Roger had watched the proceedings with a jaundiced eye. His conviction that the Venetian had made use of his wife the previous evening to swindle them at cards filled him with a lively suspicion that this was another case of secret collaboration between the couple; yet he had to admit to himself that the whole procedure had followed the pattern of a skilled mesmerist operating on a medium. In any case, having seen exhibitions of hypnotism by disciples of Dr. Mesmer in Paris, and on one occasion a woman who, while in a trance, had made a shocking spectacle of herself by writhing about in what were obviously erotic paroxysms, he was fully determined to prevent Clarissa exposing herself to anything of that kind.