“Will you come and spend twenty-four hours with me at the castle of San Nicolo? Your gathering this evening does not require your presence. To-morrow morning, at San Nicolo, we can walk about; that will calm your agitation and give you all the coolness that you need at such an important juncture.”
Pietro consented.
Vanina left him to make preparations for the journey, locking, as usual, the little room in which she hid him.
She hastened to a former waiting-woman of hers, who had left her to get married and set up a small business at Forli. On arriving at this woman’s, she hurriedly wrote on the margin of a book of hours, which she found in her room, an exact indication of the place where the lodge of carbonari was to meet that same night. She concluded her denunciation with these words: “This lodge consists of nineteen members; here are their names and addresses.” After writing this list, very exact, except that Missirilli’s name was omitted, she said to the woman, whom she could depend on:
“Take this book to the Cardinal Legate; let him read what is written and give you back the book. Here are ten sequins; if ever the legate pronounces your name, your death is assured; but you will save my life if you get the legate to read the page I have just written.”
Everything succeeded perfectly. The legate’s fears prevented him from behaving like a great lord. He let the woman of the people who asked to speak with him appear in his presence masked, but on condition that she had her hands tied. In this state the shopwoman was brought into the presence of the great person, whom she found entrenched behind an immense table covered with a green cloth.
The legate read the page of the book of hours, holding it well away from him, for fear of some subtle poison. He gave it back to the shopwoman, and did not have her followed. In less than forty minutes after leaving her lover, Vanina, who had seen her former waiting-woman’s return, appeared once more to Missirilli, convinced that thenceforth he was entirely hers. She told him that there was an extraordinary commotion in the town; patrols of carabineers were to be seen in streets where they never used to go.
“If you’ll take my advice,” she added, “we’ll start for San Nicolo at once.”
Missirilli consented to do so. They walked to the young princess’s carriage, which, with her companion, a discreet and well-paid confidante, was waiting for her half a league outside the town.
On arriving at the castle of San Nicolo, Vanina, who was uneasy about the strange step that she had taken, redoubled her tenderness to her lover. But it seemed to her that in talking love to him she was acting a part. The night before, when she played the traitor, she had forgotten about remorse. As she clasped her lover in her arms, she said to herself: