Dennis Wheatley - The Rape Of Venice

After an uneasy few minutes, the sound of running footsteps came again. Well ahead of Clarissa, Pietro erupted into the room. He was a tall, thin, bony middle-​aged man with a shock of black hair. Showing scant ceremony as they made way for him, he ran to his master, fell on his knees before him, and began to babble excitedly in Italian. Malderini muttered something and Pietro thrust a pill into his mouth, then began to chafe his hands.

The Venetian's breathing eased and his eyes opened. For a while he remained seated, then he got to his feet. The tall Pietro stooped and drew one of his master's arms across his shoulders, so that he could support him as he walked. With no word said they crossed the room. Beneath the end of her sari, the Princess had evidently been watching them, for she rose too, and followed. Instinctively the ladies dropped her curtseys and the men bowed as she passed.

Roger, meanwhile, had gone to the dining-​room and helped himself to a glass of port. He was, for once, in an exceedingly ill humour, as he loathed being involved in quarrels; yet he saw no way but of this one, which had risen so unexpectedly, Malderini had knocked him down, and that was a matter which no gentleman could ignore with honour. Even an apology could not settle such a case. It demanded that either he must meet the Venetian with weapons or, if he proved a poltroon, horse-​whip him. Being an exceptionally fine swordsman and a first-​class pistol shot, Roger had no qualms about the outcome of such an encounter; but he felt that, owing to Malderini's now being the accredited envoy of the Serene Republic, the affair was liable to cause the most troublesome repercussions. Gloomily, he finished his wine and, anticipating that the others would by now have congregated in the large drawing-​room, decided to join them there.

As he came out into the hall, he saw Malderini being helped up the stairs by his valet. They were about a third of the way' up the flight and, their backs being towards him, neither of them caught sight of him. But the Princess, who was following them, had reached only the bottom stair. As he emerged from the dining-​room, she turned and her dark eyes held his for a moment.

He had very little doubt that her husband had forced her to play the part she had in the deception; so he felt deeply sorry for her. With a view to expressing his sympathy, he made her a much deeper bow than he would have normally, As he raised his head, he expected her to incline hers, then pass on up the stairs; but she did neither. Instead, she remained poised on the bottom stair, her glance searching his face intently.

It seemed pointless to address her, as he could not expect her to understand him; so he simply stood there returning her solemn gaze. For a few moments neither of them moved, then she looked away from him and up the stairs. Malderini and Pietro had just reached the landing; so they were now out of earshot. Her big almond shaped eyes switched back to Roger.

Suddenly she spoke in a deep low voice. And she spoke in heavily accented, but perfectly clear, English 'You will fight him. You must kill him. He is evil; utterly evil. Have care not to look in his eyes. But kill him! Kill him!'

Chapter 5

The Duel

Before Roger could reply, she had turned away and was running up the stairs as swiftly as her sari would permit. His expression of astonishment gave way to a cynical little smile. Since she spoke English he had no doubt now that she also spoke Italian, French and German. As he had thought possible in the afternoon demonstration, when Malderini had appeared to be reading out the questions, he had actually been giving her their answers. His sending Clarissa to sleep by a few passes proved him to be a competent hypnotist, but all the miracles he claimed to work were fakes.

From their recent encounter, Roger judged that Malderini's wife was his unwilling tool, and did as she was ordered only through acute fear of him or, perhaps, because she lived for the greater part of the time subject to his hypnotic domination. If the latter were the case, the inference was that his semi-​collapse had enabled her temporarily to escape from it. After a moment's thought he decided to refrain, for the time being, from disclosing that she had spoken to him. Then he crossed the hall and entered the long drawing-​room.

It was still early and Georgina, in a determined attempt to restore a normal atmosphere, had endeavoured to organise a round game. But Droopy and Sheridan had both asked to be excused and her father had gone up to his own rooms; so she had had to make the best of sitting down to a game of ombre with Beckford, Esther and Clarissa.

The first hand was being dealt as Roger came in and, giving only a glance at the group seated round the card table, he joined Droopy and Sheridan, who were talking in low voices in a corner.

'He'll fight.' Sheridan was saying, as Roger came up. 'He must; he has no alternative.'

'But is he in a fit state to do so?' Roger asked. 'I saw him a few minutes back being half carried up the staircase by his man,'

Sheridan shrugged. 'He is suffering only from a temporary indisposition. I've seen him in a similar state on two previous occasions, and on both he has re-​appeared looking as strong as a horse in the morning.'

'Then, if his health permits, he must give me satisfaction,* Roger declared firmly.

'We'll give him half-​an-​hour to recover himself; then I will go up and see him,' Sheridan volunteered, 'The odds are that he'll ask me to be his second. If so, in the circumstances, I can hardly refuse.'

'In that case it will be for you and me to make the arrangements," said Droopy. 'Mr. Brook has already asked me to act for him.'

Sheridan bowed. 'Charmed, m'Lord. I can think of no one with whom I should be happier to settle the formalities. And now, gentlemen, I suggest we leave this painful subject and kill time by taking a glass of wine together.'

The three men walked quietly through to the dining-​room, collected a decanter of wine and glasses, and took them to the library. For a good half-​hour they sat there talking mainly about Sheridan's theatrical activities; then he left them to go upstairs.

He was away for about twenty minutes and, when he rejoined them, said at once, 'Malderini is already quite recovered, and he says that if you insist upon it he will fight.'

'I do,' Roger replied, standing up. 'And I'll withdraw now so that you can discuss details. The Colonel never seeks his bed before midnight, so I'll go up to his room. You'll find me there, Ned, when you're in a position to tell me what has been settled.'

Colonel Thursby's private sitting-​room held many indications of the way in which he had made his considerable fortune. There were models of machines that he had either invented or improved, and maps of the great canal system that he had aided the Duke of Bridgewater to plan, and most of the books on his shelves were works on engineering. There was also, beside the mantel, a rack holding a row of long-​stemmed clay pipes, and the Colonel was puffing quietly at one.

Roger was not an addict of the weed, but he enjoyed an occasional pipe with Georgina's father; so, while he told him how things were moving, he took down the churchwarden that had his initials on it and began to fill it from the Colonel's tobacco jar.

The Colonel nodded. 'So Dick Sheridan and Lord Edward are arranging a meeting. Well, we can only hope that no harm comes to you from it.'

'As I am the challenger, the choice of weapons lies with him,' Roger replied. 'But either way, I don't think you need be greatly concerned about me. If it be swords I have little to fear. He must be at least fifteen years older than myself, and he is anything but an agile man; so I doubt not I'd make rings round him. With pistols, too, the odds should be in my favour. Unless he's an expert marksman, I'd wing him before he gets a bead on me.'