This was as unpleasant a piece of news as I could well receive, and though I could not quarrel with it, I at least could resent the manner of its conveyance, so I turned upon my informant at once: "Perhaps this is an example of your 'suaviter in modo,' Father O'Rourke; if so, I'll be obliged if you'll put things in plain, sensible English, as between gentlemen."
"Oh, very well, Mr. John McDonell of Scottos—do you think it sounds better to say that his Royal Highness has not ordinary common taste in choosing his companions, and if you follow him, you must be hail-fellow-well-met with a blackguard like Creach, who happens just now to be in his favour?"
"'Pon my soul, Father O'Rourke, you are the most provoking man I ever met! If you wore a sword, I'd make you answer for this!" I roared, beside myself with anger.
"Oh, I can waggle a sword, if need be," he answered, very cool, "but I was thankful it wasn't a sword but a calabash of good chianti I had strapped on me the night I fell in with you after Velletri. There, there, Giovannini; 'tis nothing to make such a pother about, only you and I are too old friends to quarrel over such gentry as Mr. Creach."
"But it wasn't Mr. Creach, Father. I never would have lost my temper over him; I thought you were poking fun at me."
"Ah, Mr. Lieutenant, in humour, like in file-firing, a sense of direction is a great thing."
And so we made it all up again, and with Angus we had the chanti and fruit which the Rector had thoughtfully provided in my chamber.
At four o'clock I took my way to the secret entrance of the Santi Apostoli, found the familiar passage and a lackey awaiting me in the garden to conduct me to the Duke.
He was then about nineteen, though I did not think he appeared much my elder save in his manner, which was that of a Prince, though most lively and engaging. He soon opened the reason of the visit.
"Mr. McDonell," he said, "I am sure you are faithful and can be trusted."