"By the law!" exclaimed the marchesa, imperiously.
Fra Pacifico turned aside his head to conceal a smile. The law had not hitherto favored the marchesa. Her constant appeal to the law had been the principal cause of her present troubles.
"By the law," the marchesa repeated. Her sallow face glowed for a moment. "Surely, Fra Pacifico—surely you will not oppose me? You talk of the Church. The Church, indeed! Did not the wretch sign the marriage-contract in your presence? The Church must enable him to complete his contract. In your presence too, as priest and civil delegate; and you talk of sacrilege, my father! Che! che! Dio buono!" she exclaimed, losing all self-control in the conviction her own argument brought to her—"Fra Pacifico, you must be mad!"
"I only ask for Enrica's consent," answered the priest. "That given, if Count Nobili comes, I will consent to marry them."
"Count Nobili—he shall come—never fear," and the marchesa gave a short, scornful laugh. "After I have been to Lucca he will come. I shall have done my duty. It is all very well," added the marchesa, loftily, "for low people to pair like animals, from inclination. Such vulgar motives have no place in the world in which I live. Persons of my rank form alliances among themselves from more elevated considerations; from political and prudential motives; for the sake of great wealth when wealth is required; to shed fresh lustre on an historic name by adding to it the splendor of another equally illustrious. My own marriage was arranged for this end. Again I remind you, my father, that nothing but necessity would have forced me to permit a usurer's son to dare to aspire to the hand of my niece. It is a horrible degradation—the first blot on a spotless escutcheon."
"Again I warn you, my daughter, such pride is unseemly. Summon Enrica at once. Let us hear what she says."
The marchesa drew back into the shadow, and was silent. As long as she could bring her battery of arguments against Fra Pacifico, she felt safe. What Enrica might say, who could tell? One word from Enrica might overturn all her subtle combinations. That Fra Pacifico should assist her was indispensable. Another priest, less interested in Enrica, might, under the circumstances, refuse to unite them. Even if that difficulty could be got over, the marchesa was fully alive to the fact that a painful scene would probably occur—such a scene as ought not to be witnessed by a stranger. Hence her hesitation in calling Enrica.
During this pause Fra Pacifico crossed his arms upon his breast and waited in silence.
"Let Enrica come," said the marchesa at last; "I have no objection."
She threw herself back on her seat, and doggedly awaited the result.
Fra Pacifico rose and opened a door on the other side of the room, communicating with the vaulted passage which had connected the villa with the tower.