Michel soon realized that the Capuchin had in no wise exaggerated his pupil's varied knowledge and great talents. In the matter of the dead languages and classical subjects, Michel was quite unable to hold his own, for he had had neither the means nor the leisure to go to college before embracing an artistic career. The Piccinino, seeing that he was familiar only with translations of the texts which he quoted with an unfailing accuracy of memory, fell back upon history, modern literature, Italian poetry, novels, and the stage. Although Michel had read very extensively for one of his years, and although he had, as he himself put it, polished and sharpened his mind, hastily, by assimilating everything that came within his reach, he found that the peasant of Nicolosi, in the intervals between his hazardous expeditions, in the solitude of his shady garden, had made even better use of his time than he. It was wonderful to see a man who could not walk in boots, or breathe in a cravat, who had never been down to Catania ten times in his life, who lived in retirement on his mountain, and had never seen the world or come in contact with cultivated minds, but who had acquired by reading, reasoning, or the divination of a keen intellect, full knowledge of the modern world in its most trivial details, as he had acquired in the cloister knowledge of the ancient world. No subject was unfamiliar to him; he had learned all by himself several living languages, and he ostentatiously talked with Michel in pure Tuscan, to show him that no one at Rome could speak or pronounce it more correctly and melodiously.
Michel took so much pleasure in listening and replying to him, that he forgot for a moment the distrust which so complicated a mind and a character so difficult to define naturally inspired in him. He made the rest of the journey almost unconsciously, for they were then following a smooth and safe road; and when they arrived at the park of Palmarosa, he started with surprise at the thought of finding himself so soon in Princess Agatha's presence.
Thereupon all that had happened to him during and after the ball passed through his memory like a series of strange dreams. A delicious emotion stole over him, and he no longer felt very indignant or very much horrified at the pretensions of his companion, as he reflected upon those which he himself cherished.
XXVI
AGATHA
Michel himself opened the little gate at which the path which they had followed came to an end, and, having crossed the park diagonally, stood at the foot of the staircase cut in the steep rock. The reader will not have forgotten that the Palmarosa palace was built against a precipitous slope, and formed three distinct buildings, which ascended the mountain backward, so to speak; that the topmost floor, called the Casino, being more isolated and cooler than the others, was occupied, according to the invariable custom of the country, by the most distinguished person in the family; that is to say, the mistress's apartments were on a level with the summit of the cliff, which was transformed into a garden, of small extent but most charming, at a great height, and on the opposite side from the main façade of the lower floors. There the princess lived in retirement, as in a luxurious hermitage, having no need to descend the staircase of her palace, or to be seen by her servants, when she chose to take a walk in the fresh air.
Michel had previously seen this sanctuary, but very hurriedly, as we know; and when he was sitting there with Magnani during the ball, he was so excited and talking so earnestly that he had not observed its arrangement and its surroundings.
When he came out upon that terrace with the Piccinino, after scaling the cliff, he obtained a better idea of its location, and observed that it was so disposed that it was in fact a little fortress. The staircase cut in the rock was much better adapted for a means of exit than of entrance; it was so crowded between two walls of lava, and so steep, that a woman's hand could easily have hurled back an insolent or dangerous visitor. Moreover, there was on the last stair, with nothing in the way of a landing between, a small gilt gate, unusually high and narrow, hung between two slender marble columns as smooth as the masts of a ship. On the outer side of both these columns was the sheer precipice, with nothing to grasp except heavy iron scroll-work in the style of the seventeenth century, fashioned to represent fantastic dragons, bristling with spikes in every direction; a decoration that served a double purpose, and was very difficult to surmount when one had no purchase and a precipice under his feet.
This fortification, if we may so describe it, was not without its utility in a region where brigands from the mountain carried on their operations in the valleys and the plain, even to the very gates of the cities. Michel observed the defences with the satisfaction of a jealous lover, but the Piccinino glanced at them with an air of contempt, and even went so far as to say, while they were ascending the staircase, that it was a sugar-plum citadel, which would be very effective at a dessert.
Michel rang the prescribed number of times, and the gate was immediately opened. A veiled woman stood there, impatiently awaiting them. In the darkness, she seized Michel's hand as he entered the garden, and the young artist, recognizing the Princess Agatha by that gentle pressure, trembled and lost his head, so that the Piccinino, who did not lose his, quietly removed the key which Michel had placed in the lock as he rang the bell. The bandit placed it in his belt after closing the gate, and when Michel remembered his oversight, it was too late to repair it. They had all three entered the princess's boudoir, and that was not the moment to seek a quarrel with a man so entirely free from timidity as the Destatore's son.
Agatha had been warned and as fully advised as possible of the character and habits of the man with whom it was necessary for her to enter into relations; she was too much of a Sicilian to have any serious prejudices against the profession of bandit, and she was determined to make the greatest pecuniary sacrifices in order to make certain of the Piccinino's services. Nevertheless, she felt, at sight of him, a painful emotion which she had difficulty in concealing from him; and when he kissed her hand, gazing at her with his bold and mocking eyes, she was conscious of a painful feeling of discomfort, and her face changed perceptibly, although she was able to maintain an affable and courteous demeanor.