"Madame," Don Agostino said, returning her look and making a slight gesture of apology, "I mean that your encouraging Donna Bianca Acorari to take her rightful position before the people of Montefiano will remove many misunderstandings and stop much idle gossip."
The princess gazed inquiringly at him for a moment, then she turned to Bianca. "Speak to them, figlia mia," she said, quietly.
Bianca shook her head. "No," she replied; "now that you are here, it is for you to speak to them. I came because I knew—"
"You knew what?" interrupted Princess Montefiano.
"Oh, that Monsieur l'Abbé had told you nothing—that you did not even know the soldiers had been sent for."
"La principessina!" shouted the crowd, impatient with a colloquy in a language it could not understand. "Vogliamo sentire la principessina!"
Princess Montefiano took her step-daughter by the hand and led her forward. "Speak to them," she repeated, in Italian; and as she spoke, she drew back, leaving Bianca standing in front of her.
The words and the action accompanying them met with an immediate response from the peasants. "Evviva la principessa!" they cried, and then pressed forward until Bianca was almost surrounded.
"Go," she said, in a quiet, clear voice—"go back to your homes, now you know that neither my step-mother nor I will allow any injustice to be done to our people. Signori," she added, addressing the delegate and the officer in command of the granatieri, "you will order the troops to retire, is it not true? You see well that we are in no danger here at Montefiano."
An outburst of approval drowned the remainder of her words, and with a shrug of the shoulders the civil official turned to the officer in command and bade him give the order to his men to leave the court-yard.