"Dash me!" cried the colonel, who, being the least interested personally, was first to recover his speech.
The Barone drew in his breath sharply. Then he looked at Abbott.
"I suspected it," replied Abbott to the mute question. Since the episode of that morning his philosophical outlook had broadened. He had fought a duel and had come out of it with flying colors. As long as he lived he was certain that the petty affairs of the day were never again going to disturb him.
"Let him be," was the colonel's suggestion, adding a gesture in the direction of the casement door through which Courtlandt had gone. "He's as big a man as Nora is a woman. If he has returned with the determination of winning her, he will."
They did not see Courtlandt again. After a few minutes of restless to-and-froing, he proceeded down to the landing, helped himself to the colonel's motor-boat, and returned to Bellaggio. At the hotel he asked for the duke, only to be told that the duke and madame had left that morning for Paris. Courtlandt saw that he had permitted one great opportunity to slip past. He gave up the battle. One more good look at her, and he would go away. The odds had been too strong for him, and he knew that he was broken.
When the motor-boat came back, Abbott and the Barone made use of it also. They crossed in silence, heavy-hearted.
On landing Abbott said: "It is probable that I shall not see you again this year. I am leaving to-morrow for Paris. It's a great world, isn't it, where they toss us around like dice? Some throw sixes and others deuces. And in this game you and I have lost two out of three."
"I shall return to Rome," replied the Barone. "My long leave of absence is near its end."
"What in the world can have happened?" demanded Nora, showing the two notes to Celeste. "Here's Donald going to Paris to-morrow and the Barone to Rome. They will bid us good-by at tea. I don't understand. Donald was to remain until we left for America, and the Barone's leave does not end until October."
"To-morrow?" Dim-eyed, Celeste returned the notes.
"Yes. You play the fourth _ballade_ and I'll sing from _Madame_. It will be very lonesome without them." Nora gazed into the wall mirror and gave a pat or two to her hair.