D'Esmonde now rose to take his leave, but there was a reluctance in his manner that showed he was unwilling to go. At last he said, “Does your Highness intend to return to the camp?”
“The day after to-morrow.”
“I ask,” said the Abbé, “inasmuch as I am hourly in expectation of hearing from Cardinal Maraffa with reference to a certain decoration which you should long since have received——”
“Indeed! has his Holiness been pleased to consider me amongst his most ardent well-wishers?” cried the Prince, interrupting.
“I may be in a position to assure your Highness on that score before another day elapses. May I hope that you will receive me, even at some inconvenience, for my time is much occupied just now?”
“Whenever you call, Monsieur l'Abbé,” was the prompt reply. “If you will deign to accept this ring as a souvenir of me, it will also serve to admit you at all hours and in all places to me.”
“Your costly gift, Prince,” said D'Esmonde, flushing, “has a greater value in my eyes than all its lustre can express.” And with a most affectionate leave-taking they parted.
“At what hour is the Prince's carriage ordered?” said the Abbé, as he passed through the hall.
“For two o'clock precisely, Monsignore. He is to have an audience at the Pitti.”
“To Florence——and with speed!” said D'Esmonde to his coachman; and away they drove.