And without waiting to offer any further explanations, he followed the princess and the others into the castle.
XXXIV
Of those who accompanied Princess Montefiano into one of the drawing-rooms on the piano nobile of the castle, Monsieur d'Antin certainly appeared to be the least embarrassed. Throughout the crisis which had just been overcome he had preserved an imperturbable air of composure, and almost, indeed, of indifference. The Abbé Roux glanced at his confederate every now and then with an expression at once of bewilderment and resentment on his countenance. Nevertheless, to judge by his demeanor, Monsieur d'Antin appeared to be completely at his ease, and even, in a quiet way, to be enjoying the situation in the development of which he found himself called upon to assist.
"If you have no objection, my dear Jeanne," he observed airily, to his sister, "I will smoke. It calms the nerves." And, producing his case, he proceeded to light a cigarette in a leisurely and deliberate manner.
Monsieur d'Antin's action seemed to break the spell of embarrassment that had fallen upon those around him. The princess, it was true, had already shown herself to be no longer the weak, pliable individual that even her brother had been accustomed to consider her. The suspicion, now almost a conviction, that she had been deceived, that her authority had been exploited and undermined by the person in whom she had placed all her confidence and reliance, appeared to have had the effect of arousing in Princess Montefiano that spirit of imperiousness which in reality was inherent in her nature, as it has almost invariably been in that of the deeply religious of both sexes and of all creeds—being, after all, but a form of intellectual vanity wearing the garb of holiness. To say the truth, Monsieur d'Antin had been not a little surprised at the change in his sister's attitude. He had expected that she would altogether decline to listen to any evidence that should tell against the Abbé Roux. He had not quite understood that great as was the glamour of the priesthood in his sister's eyes, her own authority and power were yet greater, and that she would not readily condone any action tending to infringe or diminish them.
Moreover, Baron d'Antin had not fully realized how strong was Princess Montefiano's sense of her duty towards her husband's child, or how genuine was her desire fully to act up to that sense. He had always regarded Jeanne's marriage as one of those desperate remedies which single women of a certain age were apt to take as a palliative for evils not invariably of a physical nature; and, being quite aware that his sister had very little real affection for her step-daughter, he had often wondered whether Bianca's existence must not be, as it were, something of a thorn in the flesh.
But if Monsieur d'Antin was surprised at his sister's change of attitude, he was still more astonished at the blunder committed by the Abbé Roux in basing his schemes to enrich himself at Bianca Acorari's expense on so unsound a foundation. He had always taken it for granted that the Abbé Roux was feathering his own nest, but he had never troubled himself to ascertain the details of the process adopted by that ecclesiastic, though he was convinced that in some way or another the abbé had succeeded in making money out of his position in the Montefiano household. Indeed, Monsieur l'Abbé had not attempted to deny that Donna Bianca's marriage to a stranger would not at all suit the objects he had in view. Monsieur d'Antin was perfectly aware that he was dealing with a rogue—but he had at least given the abbé the credit of being a clever rogue, though perhaps not quite as clever as himself. He certainly would not have believed that the priest would have allowed himself to be outwitted, as he evidently had been outwitted, by a bankrupt mercante di campagna, to whom he had been presumably paying a commission for the use of his name. This was a folly and an irretrievable blunder; and Monsieur d'Antin, who was certainly not lacking in astuteness, on hearing Stefano Mazza's confident assertions, had at once realized that the game had reached the stage of rien ne va plus. If he were to continue to maintain friendly relations with Jeanne—and it certainly would not be to his advantage that these relations should cease—he must walk warily. And the Abbé Roux? Well, the Abbé Roux must pay the penalty usually inflicted upon the unsuccessful—he must be disowned.
To be sure, he would have liked to possess Bianca; but, as Monsieur d'Antin had told himself more than once lately, this was obviously impossible of attainment. He was conscious of being no match for the girl's quiet, determined will, and he dared not make any second attempt to force his passion upon her. No, it would be better, more diplomatic, to retire gracefully from the contest while there was yet time; and the present moment surely afforded opportunity for a man of ready resource to do so.
In the mean while, Princess Montefiano had been the object of a keener observation than that of Monsieur d'Antin. Don Agostino had noted every expression of her countenance, every inflection of her voice, almost every movement of her person since she had descended into the court-yard. He had marked the succession of feelings called forth by the discovery that she had been deceived where she had most trusted; he had followed the struggle between her sense of justice, her wounded pride, her disgust and mortification at finding that her confidence had been abused by one whose sacred calling had been used as a means whereby to exploit it. And Don Agostino, far from blaming her former weakness, had sympathized with her in his heart, for he felt that he understood all she was suffering, every phase of her trial. Perhaps it had been some sense of this silent sympathy that had made Princess Montefiano more than once turn to him as though intuitively seeking the aid of the man she had so short a time before refused to receive. If Monsieur d'Antin had found his sister's attitude when brought face to face with her difficulties superb, as he had expressed it, Don Agostino had been scarcely less struck by her courage and unexpected assumption of dignity; and he was fully able to appreciate both the one and the other. It was clear to him that there was nothing mean about Princess Montefiano, and that, once persuaded that wrong had been done, she would right it at whatever cost to her own feelings. Indeed, Don Agostino was fain to admit that both the princess and Monsieur d'Antin showed sang de race in a difficult and embarrassing situation. Nevertheless, he felt himself entirely unable to account for Monsieur d'Antin's apparent composure and indifference, knowing, as he now did, of the pact existing between him and the Abbé Roux, whereby Bianca Acorari was, if possible, to be sacrificed.
Don Agostino's reflections were disturbed by the princess addressing him.