“The ten carbonari of Missirilli’s lodge are going to be transferred to Rome on the understanding that they are to be executed in Romagna after they have been condemned. That is what my uncle has got the Pope to sanction this evening. You and I are the only persons in Rome who know this secret. Are you satisfied!”
“You are becoming a man,” Vanina replied; “make me a present of your portrait.”
The day before Missirilli was due to arrive at Rome Vanina found a pretext for going to Città-Castellana. The prison of that town is where the carbonari spend the night when they are transferred from Romagna to Rome. She saw Missirilli in the morning as he came out of prison. He was chained by himself to a cart; he seemed to her to be pale, but by no means downhearted. An old woman threw a bunch of violets to him; Missirilli smiled her his thanks.
Vanina had seen her lover; all her thoughts seemed renewed; she had fresh courage. A long time ago she had procured a good preferment to the Abbate Cari, the chaplain of the castle of Sant’ Angelo, in which her lover was to be confined; she had made this good priest her confessor. At Rome it is no small thing to be confessor of a princess who is niece to the governor.
The trial of the Forli carbonari did not last long. In revenge for their arrival in Rome, which it had been unable to prevent, the extreme party so contrived that the commission which was to try them was composed of the most ambitious prelates. This commission was presided over by the minister of police.
The law against carbonari is clear; those from Forli could cherish no hope; none the less they defended their lives by every possible subterfuge. Not only did their judges condemn them to death, but several declared for atrocious tortures, that their hands should be cut off, and such like. The minister of police, whose fortune was made (for no one leaves that position except to take a red hat), had no use for cut-off hands: when he referred the sentence to the Pope he had the punishment of all the condemned men commuted to several years’ imprisonment. Pietro Missirilli alone was excepted. The minister regarded that young man as a dangerous fanatic, and besides he had already been condemned to death as guilty of the murder of the two carabineers already mentioned. Vanina knew about the sentence and its commutation a few minutes after the minister had returned from his audience of the Pope.
Next day Monsignore Catanzara returned to his palace about midnight and found no sign of his valet in his room; the minister, astonished, rang several times; at last an old, imbecile servant appeared: the minister, out of all patience, decided to undress unaided. He locked his door; it was very warm; he took his gown and threw it in a heap on a chair. The gown, thrown too hard, went over the chair and struck the muslin curtain at the window, and showed the form of a man. The minister quickly rushed to his bed and seized a pistol. As he was returning to the window a very young man, in his livery, came towards him pistol in hand. At this sight the minister raised his pistol and took aim; he was about to fire; the young man said to him, laughing:
“What, Monsignore, do you not recognize Vanina Vanini?”
“What is the meaning of this unseemly pleasantry?” the Minister retorted angrily.
“Let us discuss things coolly,” said the young woman. “To begin with, your pistol is not loaded.”