Don Agostino shrugged his shoulders. "It is known by everybody that Donna Bianca has declared that she will marry nobody if she does not marry you," he replied. "Indeed," he continued, "I believe it is this love-affair of the principessina, as they call her, that has done more than anything else to arouse the indignation of the people against the princess and her brother and against the Abbé Roux. As yet they have not seen the young Roman whom their padrona wishes for a husband instead of Baron d'Antin. When they do see him— But do not let us waste any more time in talking, Silvio. Before we do anything else, let us have breakfast. You must be quite ready for it after your journey, and it is nearly one o'clock."
A couple of hours later Don Agostino left his house, and, choosing a lane leading through the outskirts of the town, in order to avoid the groups of peasants which would still be thronging the main street, made his way to the castle, having extracted a promise from Silvio that the latter would not go into the paese until he had returned from his visit to the princess.
He could not help suspecting that his appearance at the entrance-gate of the castle was not altogether unexpected; for the two servants who, in response to his ringing the bell, drew back a lattice and surveyed him from the inside, promptly closed it, and threw open the great wooden doors studded with heavy iron nails, and as promptly closed and bolted them again as soon as he had passed into the court-yard.
Don Agostino informed them that he had come to see her excellency the princess on important business, and producing his card, asked that it might be taken to her at once, with the urgent request that she would receive him.
He was conducted across the court and up a flight of steps leading into a large hall on the first floor of the building, where he was left while the domestics went to execute their commission. In a few minutes one of the men returned. He was desired by her excellency to tell his reverence that she regretted being unable to receive him in person, but her brother, Baron d'Antin, and the Abbé Roux would be happy to see him in her place.
Don Agostino attempted to demur. It was of the greatest importance, he said, that he should see her excellency personally.
The venerable maggior-domo spread out his hands with an apologetic gesture. He was grieved, he declared, to be obliged to disappoint his reverence, but her excellency had given strict orders that she was not to be disturbed—that she could receive no one. The Signor Barone and the Abbé Roux were ready to receive his reverence, if he would be pleased to follow him.
Don Agostino hesitated for a moment. Then he came to the conclusion that he had better accept the compromise that had evidently been made. Perhaps, indeed, the princess's absence might be an advantage. He could speak very plainly to Monsieur d'Antin and to the Abbé Roux if it became necessary to do so—more plainly, perhaps, than he could have done had Princess Montefiano been present. At any rate, he was inside the castle, and had been offered an opportunity of discussing the situation with those who were chiefly responsible for its existence, and this was something gained.
He had thought it more than likely that he would not be admitted within the castle walls, and that he would have to return to the paese with the intelligence that he had failed in his mission.
He followed the maggior-domo through the long gallery, with which the hall where he had waited communicated, and was ushered into the room used by the Abbé Roux as his study. The abbé, however, was not present, and Monsieur d'Antin came forward and introduced himself. His sister, he assured Don Agostino, much regretted her inability to receive him, but the events of the last day or two had somewhat upset her—and, after all, if he were not mistaken, Monsignor Lelli's business was more suitable for discussion by himself and Monsieur l'Abbé Roux than by ladies—was it not so? Monsieur l'Abbé would join them in a few minutes. In the mean time, anything that Monsignor Lelli might wish to say, he, Baron d'Antin, would faithfully refer to the princess. Monsignore spoke French, of course? That was well, for Monsieur d'Antin's Italian was not sufficiently fluent to embark upon a business conversation. A cigarette? No? Well, if it was permitted, he would smoke one himself, and he was all attention, if monsignore would proceed.