"And now they are confirmed? I am glad," said Silvio, simply.
Don Agostino smiled. "Amply," he replied, laying his hand affectionately on Silvio's shoulder. "Be guided by me, figlio mio," he continued. "Remain quietly here in Rome until I tell you to come to Montefiano. In the mean time, I will do all I can for you. It may be very little, or it may be more than you think; I cannot tell as yet. Write your letter to-night, and I will take it with me to-morrow morning. You quite understand, however, that it may be some days before I have an opportunity of conveying it safely to its destination, so you must not be impatient."
"You will see that I shall be patient," said Silvio. "It was the apparent impossibility of being able to communicate with Bianca that has made me impatient. It was natural, for the weeks were passing, and after what you told me about Baron d'Antin, I dared not leave Bianca much longer without fulfilling my promise that she should hear from me. However, now that I know that our affairs are in your hands, I will be as patient as you please."
"That is well," replied Don Agostino, briefly. "And, above all, Silvio," he added, "do not confide in anybody. Do not move from Rome until you receive a letter from me bidding you come to Montefiano, or to some other place in its neighborhood that I will name in the letter. Dunque, siamo intesi? Then let us catch up with the others. It is growing late, and I must return to my hotel. You can bring me your letter to-morrow morning. I shall leave Rome by the eight-o'clock train, and it will be wiser for you to come only to the hotel, and not accompany me to the railway station. The less we are seen together now the better. It is a strange thing, but the accident of having met those two individuals to-night has made me feel uncomfortable."
"What harm can they do?" said Silvio, carelessly. "If Monsieur d'Antin had seen us together at Montefiano, then he might well have been suspicious; but here, in Rome, we are—"
"In Rome," interrupted Don Agostino, dryly; and he said no more than might be implied by a slight shrug of the shoulders and a quick gesture with the hands.
The professor and Giacinta had halted at this moment. By this time they had reached the upper end of the Forum, and a few paces more would bring them out into the Via S. Teodoro, close to the narrow flight of steps leading up to the piazza of the Capitol.
As soon as Don Agostino and Silvio joined them, Professor Rossano begged the former to return with them to Palazzo Acorari, but Don Agostino declined. It was time for him to go back to his hotel, he declared, and Silvio, rightly guessing that he did not wish to run any risks of again being seen with them, forebore from seconding his father's invitation. After bidding the professor and Giacinta a cordial farewell, Don Agostino stopped a passing cab, and directed the driver to the Albergo Santa Chiara, a modest little hotel near the Minerva, largely frequented by foreign priests and pilgrims.
"I will be with you at seven o'clock to-morrow morning," said Silvio to him as he got into the cab. Don Agostino nodded, and, raising his broad beaver hat, drove away.
"There," said the professor, jerking his head in the direction of the disappearing botte, "is another of them."