Barbagallo was already threatening, under his breath, to call for help to overcome his resistance. The persons who were nearest them glanced with an expression of satirical surprise at this strange young man at odds with the majordomo of the palace. The ladies gathered up their skirts and drew back into the crowd, to be farther away from him. They thought that he might be a pickpocket who had found his way into the ball-room, or some insolent intriguer who was about to cause a scandal.
But just as poor Michel was on the point of swooning with wrath and shame, for the blood was already roaring in his ears, and his legs were giving way, a faint cry, not two yards away, drove all the blood back to his heart. It seemed to him that he had heard that cry before, a cry of grief, surprise and affection, all in one, in the midst of his sleep on the evening of his arrival at the palace. Obeying an instinctive impulse of confidence and hope, which he could not explain to himself, he turned in the direction of that friendly voice and darted forward at random, as if to seek refuge on the breast from which it issued. Suddenly he found himself close beside the princess, with his hand in hers, which pressed it tremblingly but warmly. That movement and that expression of their mutual emotion were as rapid as the lightning flash. The amazed spectators opened a passage for the princess, who walked across the hall, leaning upon Michel, leaving her partner in the middle of his final bow, the majordomo in utter dismay, wishing that he could sink through the floor, and the spectators laughing at the good man's discomfiture, and concluding that Michel was some young foreigner of distinction recently arrived at Catania, to whom the princess made haste to atone, with graceful tact and without useless words, for her majordomo's blunder.
THE BALL AT THE PALMAROSA PALACE.
When Signora Agatha reached the foot of the great staircase, where there were few people, she had recovered her tranquillity; but Michel was trembling more than ever.
When Signora Agatha reached the foot of the great staircase, where there were few people, she had recovered her tranquillity; but Michel was trembling more than ever.
"Doubtless she is going to show me the door herself," he thought, "without allowing anyone to divine her purpose. She is too great and too kind not to rescue me from the insults of her servants and the contempt of her guests; but the advice she is going to give me will be none the less deadly. This probably means the ruin of all my future prospects, and the wreck of the life I have dreamed of will lie here on the threshold of her palace."
"Michelangelo Lavoratori," said the princess, putting her bouquet to her face to deaden the sound of her voice, which might have reached some ear on the alert with curiosity, "I have discovered to-day that you are a genuine artist, and that a noble career lies open before you. A few more years of earnest work, and you may become a master. Then the world will receive you, as you deserve to be received to-day, for the man who has nothing more than well-founded hopes of his personal glory is at least the equal of those who have only the memory of the glory of their ancestors. But tell me if you are in haste to make your appearance in this society which you have seen to-night, and whose spirit you can already divine? If you wish it, I have but to say a word, to raise my hand. All the connoisseurs here noticed your figures, and asked me your name, your age, and your antecedents. I have only to present you to my friends, to declare that you are an artist, and from this day you will be so considered, and practically emancipated from your present social position. Your father's humble profession, far from injuring you, will be an added source of interest; for the world is always surprised to see a poor man born with genius, as if artistic genius had not always sprung from the common people, and as if our caste were still fruitful in superior men. Answer me, Michel; do you wish to sup to-night at my table, by my side, or do you prefer to sup in the buttery, beside your father?"
This last question was put so concisely that Michel thought that he could read his sentence in it. "This is either a delicately administered but most severe lesson that I am receiving," he thought, "or else it is a test. I will come forth pure!"—And at once recovering his wits, which had been violently agitated a moment before, he replied proudly: