As Don Agostino proceeded with his arguments, the faces of his audience gradually became more lowering, and more than once murmurs of disapproval and impatience were audible. Sor Stefano himself looked at first disconcerted, and then suspicious.
"Your reverence appears to be very anxious to defend the princess," he said, "but we Montefianesi want no foreigners. If her excellency has evil counsellors round her, it is because she listens to strangers in preference to trusting her husband's people. No, reverendo, we do not forget that she is, as you say, the late prince's wife—but she is not the principessina's mother. And by all accounts she is not acting by the principessina as a mother would act by her child. We have approached her excellency with fair words, and in a respectful and legitimate manner. She has thought fit to answer us—in the way she has answered us."
Sor Stefano stopped abruptly; then, turning from Don Agostino to the crowd, ever growing more and more dense in the street, he raised his voice yet louder.
"His reverence," he exclaimed, "does not quite understand us, my friends! Oh, it is natural; for, after all, he is a priest, and it is a priest who is at the bottom of the whole business! Si capisce! the Church must support the Church. But Don Agostino does not understand us. He thinks that we are considering our interests only—that our only object in going to the castle is to insist on the rents remaining as they were, and on Sor Beppe being recalled to his post. If that were all, reverendo, we should not take the trouble to go to the castle—niente affato! The rents would not be paid—and as to the new fattore whom the foreign priest has appointed—well, he would be a brave man to remain long in Montefiano. He would receive hints—oh, that the air of Montefiano was unhealthy for strangers. And if he did not take the hints and remove himself, the air would no doubt prove fatal. No, we go to the castle because we wish to see and to speak with the principessina—because we wish to know what truth there is in certain stories we have heard—that the principessina is, as it were, a prisoner here at Montefiano until she gives herself up to the lust of an old foreigner instead of to the love of a Roman youth she wants to marry. We wish to learn if it is true that the Abbé Roux is in reality the lessee of the rents on the Montefiano latifondo, and that he means to force the principessina to marry her uncle for reasons of his own. These are our reasons, reverendo, for insisting on seeing the principessina herself, and for being determined to force our way into the castle, if we are compelled to do so. Have I spoken well, or ill?"
A shout from the crowd answered Sor Stefano's speech.
"Al castello—andiamo al castello! Fuori gli stranieri—evviva la Principessina Bianca!"
Sor Stefano looked at Don Agostino. "You hear, reverendo?" he asked.
"I hear," Don Agostino replied, quietly, and then, drawing himself up to his full height, he added, "And I repeat, with you, 'Evviva la Principessina Donna Bianca Acorari!' You, Signor Mazza, have spoken, and much that you have said is just. But you have also said what is not just. If I defend the princess, it is because I believe that lady to be innocent of the conduct towards her step-daughter which you impute to her. I believe her to be influenced by dishonest persons who have succeeded in gaining her entire confidence, and in persuading her that she is doing her duty by Donna Bianca. It makes no difference to me that one of these dishonest persons—the chief among them—happens to be a priest. I have not defended his conduct, but merely that of the princess, who has, I believe, been deceived by his advice. It is true, Signor Mazza, that the Church must support the Church; and concerning the Abbé Roux as a priest, I have nothing to say. It is with the Abbé Roux as a man of business that I am concerned—and I have already expressed my opinion of him in that respect. But these things are beside the point. I came here to learn your intentions, my friends, as regards the action of the deputation of which I consented to be a member. I speak frankly. If that action is to be such as you seem to be bent upon, I will not be a party to it. To give my approval to a course which must almost inevitably lead to disorder, if not to worse, would not be consistent with my duty either to you as my parishioners or to myself as a priest. I tell you that you will gain nothing by threats and demonstrations, and the position of the principessina will certainly not be improved by any interference of such a character. All that will happen will be that the princess—who, remember, is within her rights and has the law behind her—will call upon the authorities to assist her and to maintain order at Montefiano. You, Signor Mazza, know as well as I do what would be the result of continued resistance under such circumstances. They are not results which any one who wishes well to Montefiano cares to contemplate, and certainly not results which I, a priest, can assist in bringing about. No, my friends, let us be reasonable! You have done me the honor to say that you trust me. Well, I am going to ask you to trust me a little longer—for a few hours longer. I told you that I had one or two suggestions to make to you, and I should like to make my second suggestion."
Don Agostino's audience was apparently undecided. The younger and more excited among the crowd seemed eager for instant action, but the older heads were evidently ready to listen to the parroco's advice.
At this juncture no less a person than the sindaco intervened. The avvocato Ricci had taken no part in the proceedings, though he had been present when Don Agostino entered the caffè. He was, indeed, in a lamentable position of embarrassment and difficulty, what with his fear of offending Sor Stefano on the one hand, and his anxiety lest he should be compromised in the eyes of the authorities on the other. Don Agostino's last sentences, however, had given him the courage to open his lips and to join the parroco in dissociating himself from a movement which threatened to become prolific of disorder. Don Agostino's allusion to the danger of so acting as to oblige the princess and her advisers to seek the aid of the authorities had finally decided the sindaco of Montefiano to brave the resentment of the man who held so much of his paper locked away in his strong-box.