"Very well, Signor de Castro-Reale," said Agatha, in a firm voice, looking him full in the face, "there is no doubt about the fact; but I can swear upon my mother's soul and your mother's that that young man never saw me until the day of the ball, when his father first introduced him to me, in presence of two hundred mechanics. I talked to him during the ball, on the main staircase, and the Marquis della Serra, who was escorting me, complimented him, as I did myself, upon his paintings. From that moment down to this very evening Michel had never seen me; ask himself! You are not a man whom one can deceive, captain; use your perspicacity, and I will trust it."
The Piccinino quivered with pleasure at this concise declaration, made with the assurance which truth alone can give, and he pressed Agatha's hand against his breast with such force that she detected his sentiments at last. She had a moment of terror, augmented by a ghastly reminiscence. But she realized, in a flash, the full extent of the dangers to which Michel had been exposed, and, postponing the matter of her own safety to a more favorable season, she determined to deal tenderly with Carmelo Tomabene's pride.
"What motive could Abbé Ninfo have had in telling us that extraordinary story?" he exclaimed.
Agatha fancied that she could understand that the abbé had detected the violent passion for herself by which she saw at last that the bandit was possessed, and that he had endeavored to incite him to vengeance by his tale of intrigue. "If that is so," she thought, "I will use the same weapons, vile Ninfo, since you have been kind enough to furnish me with them."
"Listen, captain," she said; "you who know men so well and read so readily the innermost folds of the conscience, must have discovered that, in addition to all his manifest vices, the abbé is an insatiable libertine? Do you suppose that he has confined himself to coveting my inheritance? did he not let you see that it was not for money alone that he would try to sell me a part of it if he should succeed in obtaining possession of it?"
"Yes!" cried the Piccinino, this time with the utmost sincerity; "I thought that I could detect revolting desires and hopes on the part of that monster of ugliness and lust. His affected incredulity concerning the possibility of resistance by a woman, in such cases, is simply an attempt to console himself when he thinks of his own physical and moral ugliness. Yes, yes, I suspected it in spite of his hypocrisy. I will not say that he loves you; that would be a profanation of the word love; but he desires you, and he is jealous. Jealous, do I say! Ah! that word again is too respectable! Jealousy is the passion of young hearts, and his is decrepit. He suspects and detests everybody about you. In fact, he has devised an infernal method of conquering you: judging rightly that the desire to ransom your inheritance would not suffice, and supposing that you loved this young artist, he has determined to use him as a hostage and to compel you to purchase at his own price the life and liberty of Michelangelo."
"I ought to have expected that," replied the princess, affecting an air of contemptuous tranquillity, although her whole body was bathed in cold perspiration. "And so he selected you, captain, as his associate in an undertaking worthy of those men who devote themselves to the most hideous of all trades, the mere name of which is so degrading that no true woman could bear to speak it in any tongue! It seems to me that that mark of confidence on the part of the excellent Abbé Ninfo merits a somewhat severe punishment at your hands!"
Agatha had touched the right chord. The abbé's execrable projects, which had previously moved the young bandit to nothing more than satirical contempt, appeared to him now in the light of a personal insult and kindled the thirst for vengeance in him. So true is it that love, even in a wild, unbridled heart, arouses the sentiment of manly dignity.
"Severe punishment!" he said, in a deep voice, with clenched teeth; "he shall have it!—But," he added, "have no further anxiety about anything, signora; deign to place your fate in my hands unreservedly."
"My fate is already in your hands, captain," replied Agatha; "my fortune, my reputation, and the lives of my friends: think you that I have an anxious air?"