"Not for thirty years."
"Then you had better read them at once. San Giacinto is Prince
Saracinesca and you and I are nobody."
Saracinesca uttered a fierce oath and sprang from his chair.
"What do you mean?" he asked, seizing Giovanni's arm violently with one hand and taking the parchment with the other.
"Read for yourself. There—at the foot of the page, from 'eo tamen pacto.' It is plain enough. It says, 'On the understanding that if an heir be born to the aforesaid Don Leone, in lawful wedlock, the present instrument shall be wholly null, void and inefficacious.' An heir was born, and San Giacinto is that heir's grandson. You may tear up the document. It is not worth the parchment it is written upon, nor are we either."
"You are mad, Giovannino!" exclaimed the prince, hoarsely, "that is not the meaning of the words. You have forgotten your Latin."
"I will get you a dictionary—or a lawyer—whichever you prefer."
"You are not in earnest, my boy. Look here—eo tamen pacto—that means 'by this agreement'—does it not? I am not so rusty as you seem to think."
"It means 'on this understanding, however.' Go on. Quod si, that if—praedicto Domino Leoni, to the aforesaid Don Leone—ex legitimo matrimonio, from a lawful marriage—heres nasceretur, an heir should be born—hoc instrumentum, this deed—shall be null, worthless and invalid. You cannot get any other sense out of it. I have tried for a quarter of an hour. You and I are beggars. Saracinesca, Torleone, Barda, and all the rest belong to San Giacinto, the direct descendant of your great-grandfather's elder brother. You are simple Don Leone, and I am plain Don Giovanni. That is what it means."
"Good God!" cried the old man in extreme horror. "If you should be right—"