'They can go home. Really, it is very urgent.'
Girolamo's eyes moved about here and there, never resting a moment, from Checco to me, from me to Matteo, and on to his wife, and then on again, with extraordinary rapidity--it was quite terrifying.
'One would think you were afraid of leaving Checco in our hands,' said the Countess, smiling.
'No,' returned Matteo; 'but I look forward to having some of your attention now that Checco is otherwise occupied. Will you let me languish?'
She laughed, and a rapid glance passed between her and the Count.
'I shall be only too pleased,' she said, 'come and sit by me, one on each side.'
'Well, good-night, my friend,' he said. 'Good-night!'
Ercole left us, and Girolamo, taking Checco's arm, walked up and down the room, speaking. The Countess and Matteo commenced a gay conversation. Although I was close to them I was left alone, and I watched the Count. His eyes fascinated me, moving ceaselessly. What could be behind them? What could be the man's thoughts that his eyes should never rest? They enveloped the person they looked at--his head, every feature of his face, his body, his clothes; one imagined there was no detail they had not caught; it was as if they ate into the very soul of the man.
The two men tramped up and down, talking earnestly; I wondered what they were saying. At last Girolamo stopped.
'Ah, well, I must have mercy on you; I shall tire you to death. And you know I do not wish to do anything to harm you.'
'Whatever difficulty there has been between us, Checco, you know that there has never on my part been any ill-feeling towards you. I have always had for you a very sincere and affectionate friendship.'
And as he said the words an extraordinary change came over him. The eyes, the mobile eyes, stopped still at last; for the first time I saw them perfectly steady, motionless, like glass; they looked fixedly into Checco's eyes, without winking, and their immobility was as strange as their perpetual movement, and to me it was more terrifying. It was as if Girolamo was trying to see his own image in Checco's soul.
We bade them farewell, and together issued out into the silence of the night; and I felt that behind us the motionless eyes, like glass, were following us into the darkness.