The Abbé Roux frowned angrily.
"Permitted, monsieur!" he repeated. "I do not understand you. The princess stands in no need of permission to act as she thinks fit and as may be advantageous to Donna Bianca's future interests. Nor do I understand why you assume Donna Bianca Acorari to have any voice in what the princess may choose to do as her guardian. You must surely be well aware that, until she is of age, Donna Bianca has absolutely nothing to say in the management of her properties. It is, therefore, absurd to drag her name into any question arising in connection with that management."
Don Agostino looked at him steadily. "I am aware that Donna Bianca does not enter into the full possession of her estates until she is of age—or until she marries," he said. "Nevertheless, the fact does not prevent her from being regarded by the people in and round Montefiano as their mistress—as the only child of and successor to the late Prince of Montefiano. And the people will insist on regarding her as such, and upon being permitted access to her.
"It is not for me, Monsieur l'Abbé, to discuss what may be your motives for advising the princess to pursue a course which is not only unjust to the people, but injurious to her step-daughter's true interests. I have come here this afternoon to warn the princess that the people intend to insist upon being heard, not by her only, but by Donna Bianca Acorari. They are loyal to Donna Bianca—but—you must pardon me for my plain speaking—they look upon the princess as a foreigner who allows foreign influence to interfere between them and their lawful padrona. At any moment, Monsieur l'Abbé, unless you advise the princess to adopt a more conciliatory course, you may hear this from the people themselves. They will tell it you more roughly than I have told it you."
The Abbé Roux laughed disagreeably. "You are very disinterested, monsignore," he remarked, "but I regret that I cannot accept your views upon business matters—and this affair of the peasants is purely a business—a financial—matter. You may very possibly be mistaken in your judgment, monsignore. It would not be the first time, I think, that you were mistaken in your estimate of sound finance. No, Madame la Princesse will not, I imagine, be disposed to accept your advice on such matters."
The sneer and the insinuation contained in the abbé's words were patent enough, and for a moment Don Agostino reddened with anger. He restrained himself with an effort, however. It was very evident that the Abbé Roux was losing his temper; and time, valuable time, was passing.
Don Agostino shrugged his shoulders, and then, turning his back upon the abbé, he addressed Monsieur d'Antin, whose face he had noticed with some surprise had worn a sudden but unmistakable look of disgust and contempt while the Abbé Roux was speaking.
"Monsieur le Baron," he said, quietly, "I appeal to you as to one who is not a professional man of business in the employ of Madame la Princesse, but who is her brother, and who may therefore not be altogether influenced by pecuniary considerations. I entreat you to take my warning to the princess, and to persuade her to allow me to return, while there is yet time, to the people, with the news that I have spoken with her and with Donna Bianca, and that she is prepared to make some concessions. I entreat you, also, to recall, in her name, the application which has been made for military aid—"
The abbé and Monsieur d'Antin both started. "How, monsieur?" exclaimed the abbé. "Military aid! What folly is this? Who talks of military aid having been applied for?"
Don Agostino drew Silvio's Tribuna from his soutane and gave it to Monsieur d'Antin.