"Well? Have you decided? Shall we go?"

Hester spoke a little anxiously, reminding Marianne abruptly of her presence. She gave a little shiver and glanced around quickly, shaking her head.

"No. I can't. Whatever the danger, I must stay here."

"You're mad!"

"Possibly, but there it is. Don't be cross with me, Hester, and please don't think I don't appreciate what you have done for me. I am truly grateful to you for the warning—"

"But you don't believe a word of it! You're very much mistaken if you think Canning threatens idly. I know him too well to doubt that he will do precisely as he says—to both of us."

"I do not doubt it for a minute. I have learned to know him also. Indeed, I may have to go, but not to Egypt. There is no reason why I should, you must see that. The best, the most sensible thing, would be for me to go back to France or to Tuscany—"

Almost before the words were out of her mouth she was regretting them, for a gleam had come into Lady Hester's eyes. Surely that passionate traveler was not going to offer to go with her, perhaps disguised as a man if need be and carrying a forged passport? Much as she liked the tall Englishwoman, Marianne found the prospect less than alluring, foreseeing it as an endless source of trouble of all kinds. But the light in the gray eyes vanished as swiftly as it had come, like a lamp snuffed out.

Hester rose in her turn, unfolding her long limbs and bringing her turban within an inch of the ceiling.

"If that Latour-Maubourg of yours had not pointed out all the innumerable diplomatic complications that could result from my being in France," she said with a sigh, "I would have made you take me with you and reveled in it. But it would be asking for trouble. Only think it over again, my sweet, and ask your friends' advice. In any event, I shall not be going for another three days yet. You still have time to change your mind and decide to spend the winter in the Egyptian sunshine. And now we had better go and find poor Meryon before his patience runs out. The poor boy can't bear to let me out of his sight for a moment."

But when they reached the quayside Dr. Meryon had disappeared, and Marianne, who had some reason for not sharing Lady Hester's belief in her all-powerful charm over the young physician, could not suppress the thought that he had made the best of his opportunity to escape. Perhaps he had gone to pay a farewell visit to the Kapodan Pasha's adorable wife?

One hour later, having left her friend to carry her disappointment back in solitude to her house at Bebek, Marianne was closeted with Jolival in the Morousi drawing room pouring out the tale of all that she had just learned.

Arcadius heard her out in silence, nibbling his mustache as was his habit when he was thinking deeply, but not seeming otherwise much perturbed.

"So there we are!" Marianne concluded. "At this moment, Canning's plan is to have me expelled from the country officially and unofficially to bundle me away like an unwanted parcel."

"I'd worry more about the unofficial side," Jolival said thoughtfully. "However cool his relations with Napoleon, the sultan is going to think twice before expelling a dear friend of his. I'm inclined to think that if you had his words correctly Canning has been overestimating himself a little there."

"What do you mean: 'if I had his words correctly'? Are you trying to say that Hester might have invented it?"

"Not everything, no—but some. What I find so surprising in the whole story is that she didn't come running here to warn you a week ago when this escapade of hers had only just taken place. That would have been the action of a friend. But instead she simply waited until she happened to meet you on the waterfront and then made haste to put you on your guard as soon as she saw that you were the possessor of a much larger and more comfortable vessel than any she could hope to find here to carry her to this eastern dream of hers. Once agree to take her to Egypt and she'll have you going right around the world."

"There's no question of my going around the world or even to Egypt." Then, struck by his reasoning, she added: "Do you really think she could have made it up?"

"That," Jolival said, "is what we have to find out. But whatever happens we had better speak to Prince Corrado before we decide anything at all. He is the prime cause of your being stuck here, as well as being your lawful husband, so it is for him to settle what is to be done. I'll send word to him at once and after that I'm going in search of a friend of mine who has the entree to the British embassy. He may be able to tell me how much truth there is in what Lady Hester told you."

"Jolival, do you really have English friends? You, of all people?" Marianne asked in surprise, knowing he had little love for the country where his wife had chosen to make her home.

"I have friends wherever necessary. But don't worry. This one is not English but Russian. He started life as a page to Catherine the Great and he has more friends in diplomatic circles than anyone I know."

Her friend's quiet good sense had done much to calm Marianne. She smiled at him over the piece of embroidery she had begun to occupy herself with during the long hours she spent resting on a sofa on the orders of Dr. Meryon, as he stood at the table and scribbled a few hurried lines.

"I see how it is. If your friend is as familiar with the insides of embassies as of gaming houses, he must be a mine of information."

Jolival shrugged, adjusted the set of his well-cut pearl-gray coat, picked up his hat and stick from a chair and, bending, dropped a light kiss on the top of Marianne's head.

"The trouble with you women," he said mildly, "is that you never appreciate how much we do for you. Now, just you stay here quietly until I come back and above all don't be at home to anyone. I shan't be long."

In fact he was back again in a remarkably short time but the happy confidence he had displayed on setting out had given way to a tension that was revealed in the heavy crease between his brows and the frequency with which he sought his snuff box. His mysterious and well-informed acquaintance had confirmed the acrimonious nature of that final interview between Lady Hester Stanhope and the British ambassador and also the fact of an imminent agreement between Canning and the sultan, but he knew nothing of British intentions toward the Princess Sant'Anna or whether her expulsion from Turkey was to form part of that agreement.

"There's no reason why it should not be true," Marianne cried. "If Canning is prepared to send packing a woman of Lady Hester's quality, and a niece of the late Lord Chatham also, why should he hesitate to deal with his country's enemy?"

"For one thing, he never threatened to send Lady Hester packing. According to Count Karazine, he merely told her she would do better to leave the city and not persist in making friends with 'those damned French.' Nothing more than that. And I'm inclined to believe he's right. Canning is too much the gentleman to talk of expulsion in connection with a lady."

"That only goes to prove that I am no lady in his eyes. Do you know, Jolival, he called me a 'pinchbeck princess!' "

"I can imagine that rankled with a daughter of the Marquis d'Asselnat but, as I said before, you mustn't overdramatize. As far as our friend is concerned, I'm quite sure of one thing. She'd rather leave the city of her own accord than wait for the results of the letter she wrote to Lord Wellesley in the first flush of her anger after her quarrel with Canning, making cruel fun of the ambassador. Read it for yourself."

Like a conjuror, Jolival suddenly produced a sheet of writing paper and held it out to Marianne. She took it automatically but with unconcealed amazement.

"But how do you come to have the letter?"

"Count Karazine again. He really is a most efficient fellow. This is only a copy, of course, and none too difficult to come by. Lady Hester was so angry that she could not resist the pleasure of reading her vindictive epistle to a few friends. Karazine was one of them and since he possesses an amazing memory… I must say, it's a remarkable document."

Marianne began to read the letter. The very first words made her smile.

"Mr. Canning," Hester had written, "is young and inexperienced, very zealous, but full of prejudice…" There followed a lively account of their differences and the masterly epistle ended: "In conclusion, I would entreat your lordship not to receive Mr. Canning with a mere stiff bow and a forbidding countenance or to permit the ladies to make fun of him. The best reward for all the services he has rendered would be to appoint him to be commander in chief and ambassador extraordinary to those peoples having the greatest need of the suppression of vice and the cultivation of patriotism: this last consisting in tying oneself in more knots than dervishes at the mere mention of the name of Bonaparte…"

Marianne laughed aloud.

"You shouldn't have shown me this letter, Arcadius. It's done me so much good that for a little more I'd take Hester to Alexandria after all! If Canning ever gets to hear of this—"

"But he knows already and lies awake at nights thinking about it, you may be sure. He must be haunted by hideous visions of the red dispatch box going the rounds of the Foreign Office to the general delight."

"Well, the ambassador's sleepless nights won't help me, Jolival. Far from it," Marianne said, suddenly serious again. "If he holds me responsible for Hester's pranks it will only make him hate me more than ever. So the question remains. What am I to do?"