Part 27

The mayor of Montefiano shrugged his shoulders. "_Caro signore_," he observed, "the sight of a few bayonets soon changes public opinion. I believe that the peasants will very quickly turn round and disown their own supporters, if they once realize that her excellency will not give way to their demands. In any case, you can rely upon my doing my duty in safeguarding the public order in this commune. Her excellency has only to request the aid of the authorities in the event of the _contadini_ proceeding to any excesses, and a telegram to the military authorities at Civitacastellana will do the rest. In the space of three or four hours troops could be on the spot."

"Ah!" repeated the Abbe Roux, thoughtfully; "in the space of three or four hours, you say?"

"_Sicuro!_ perhaps less. In my opinion there would be nothing to fear. The sight of the soldiers would soon reduce the peasants to reason."

The abbe looked at him quickly. "The princess has already decided to refuse to receive this deputation," he said. "She has written a very abrupt refusal. I have persuaded her to delay its despatch for a few hours. It appears, however, that there is no reason why it should not be sent to-morrow."

"It will increase the ill-feeling, no doubt," said the _sindaco_--"very seriously increase it, I fear. Still, if her excellency has the courage to stand firm, there can be but one issue. In the end the _contadini_ will have to give way, and then they will infallibly turn against those who have encouraged them to create disturbances. It is always like that."

The Abbe Roux did not reply for a moment or two. Then he said, suddenly: "There is one thing I do not quite understand, Signor Ricci. Why does this deputation insist upon seeing Donna Bianca Acorari? The people must surely know that Donna Bianca, being a minor, has no voice in matters connected with the administration of her property. This insistence on speaking with her is scarcely respectful to the princess, who alone has any authority in the matter. As you were to be a member of the deputation, no doubt you can explain the meaning of this request to interview Donna Bianca?"

The _sindaco_ hesitated. Then, having made up his mind to lie, he lied soundly but plausibly, as only an Italian official of the bureaucracy can lie.

"It is very simple," he said, with a laugh. "The peasants have got an idea into their heads that Donna Bianca would take their part and intercede for them, because--well, because she is an Acorari, and her excellency the princess is, after all, a stranger. It is mere sentiment, of course, with a certain amount of shrewdness at the back of it. No doubt the _parroco_, Don Agostino, has put the idea into their heads. But there is nothing in it but sentiment--nothing at all, Signor Abate, I can assure you. I objected to the introduction of Donna Bianca's name into the business, but it was better to let the _contadini_ have their own way about what is, after all, a mere trifle. They do not realize that the _principessina_ has, as you say, no voice in such matters, being a minor."

The abbe nodded. "I quite understand," he said, pleasantly. "No doubt it has been part of the scheme of these agitators to work upon the sentiment of the peasantry for Donna Bianca, as being their future _padrona_. But, luckily for her, she has those about her who know how to protect her interests and to guard her against being imposed upon. Well, Signor Sindaco, to-morrow morning the princess will send her answer. It is, as I have already told you, a refusal to receive the deputation, or to discuss its objects. You may be sure that her excellency will not give way, no matter what attitude the people may assume. If that attitude should become threatening, we may have to seek the aid of the authorities through you. _A proposito_, would it not be as well to warn the military authorities that a handful of soldiers might be required to keep order at Montefiano? On the receipt of a telegram they could then be despatched without delay. You can doubtless arrange to do this without the matter becoming known; and then, should it be necessary, we would request you to send the telegram regarding the immediate presence of the troops. By these means we could give the idiots the unpleasant surprise of finding that we were prepared for any folly they might attempt to commit. At least the display of a little force could do no harm, and would probably have an excellent moral effect. But not a word, _caro signore_, of our conference to-night. I trust that your visit to the castle will not have been observed by any of the people. By-the-way, should there be any fresh development in the situation to-morrow morning, after the tenor of the princess's reply has become known, I must beg that you will communicate with me."

The _sindaco_ of Montefiano took his leave, assuring the Abbe Roux that all should be done as he had suggested. The evening was dark and rainy, and he encountered nobody on the steep road leading up to the castle from the town below. At any rate, the _avvocato_ Ricci thought to himself, he had secured himself against any misrepresentation at Rome of his conduct. If Sor Stefano and the peasantry insisted upon continuing the agitation, there would infallibly be mischief, and in that case it was as well to be on the winning side, which side must inevitably be supported by the authorities. It was certainly no affair of his to enlighten the _abate_ as to the real object of the deputation in having insisted upon seeing Donna Bianca Acorari. His affair was to avoid compromising himself in the eyes of the authorities in Rome, and the Abate Roux would have to weather the storm he had created as best he could. The lawyer was not a little struck by the Abbe Roux's caution in providing for a speedy and unexpected appearance on the scene of military force, should its presence be desirable. "Even Sor Stefano," he said to himself, with a chuckle, "would talk less loudly if he were suddenly to find himself confronted by a company of infantry with fixed bayonets, and he, Augusto Ricci, might earn the approval of the minister of the interior and head of the government in Rome for his promptitude in suppressing threatened disorder in the commune of which he was _sindaco_."

*XXXI*

After leaving the Caffe Garibaldi, Don Agostino returned to his house in a very thoughtful frame of mind. He had promised to go himself to Princess Montefiano and put the peasants' case before her. He had promised, also, that he would speak with Donna Bianca Acorari personally. The question now arose how he was to accomplish what he had undertaken. The princess, it was true, could scarcely refuse to receive him without that refusal being a marked rudeness to him as _parroco_ of Montefiano; at the same time, Don Agostino was perfectly aware that she had certainly not displayed any desire to make his personal acquaintance. He had duly left his card, as politeness required, after her arrival at the castle, and had received no invitation to repeat his visit. The fact had not surprised or annoyed him. He had been tolerably well acquainted with the Abbe Roux in the days when that ecclesiastic was the secretary to a cardinal who had always been his bitter enemy, and who, he well knew, had been more active than any one else at the Vatican in clamoring for his removal and disgrace. The acquaintance had not been a pleasant one, and certain details in the abbe's career which happened to have come to his knowledge had not made Don Agostino desirous of improving it.

It was not likely, therefore, that the Abbe Roux would welcome his presence at the castle of Montefiano, and he would doubtless have used his influence with the princess to prevent her from knowing him in any way than as a priest on Acorari property, who might sometimes have occasion to address a letter to her concerning the needs of his parishioners.

It was certainly from no personal motives that Don Agostino, as he walked back to his house that morning, felt almost nervously anxious lest he should be refused admittance to Princess Montefiano's presence. When he had sought to defend her against the accusations which he was well aware had been made against her of unmotherly conduct towards her step-daughter, he had done so because he believed these accusations to be, if not altogether unfounded, at least erroneous. He had always felt confident that the princess was a victim to her own religious enthusiasm; she had fallen an easy prey to a type of ecclesiastic with which his experience in Rome had brought him into contact on several occasions, and of which the Abbe Roux was no uncommon example. He was convinced that the moment had arrived when the Princess Montefiano's eyes might be opened, and when it might be demonstrated to her, beyond any possibility of doubt, that the counsellor in whom she had trusted had never been worthy of her confidence.

At the same time it was clear that the Abbe Roux was master of the actual situation, and that, having succeeded in getting rid of the one official at Montefiano who for thirty years had had the true interests of his employers at heart, it was not likely he would permit the princess to be approached by the _parroco_ of Montefiano, who was known to regard the agent's dismissal as both a mistake and an injustice. The position, however, was serious; and all the more so because it was quite evident that neither the princess nor the abbe realized its gravity. Any rebellious attitude that the peasants might be driven by exasperation to assume could, it was true, be ultimately suppressed by the intervention of the military at the instance of the civil authorities of the commune. But Don Agostino well knew the legacy of hatred and smouldering resentment which such intervention almost invariably left behind it. If he could save his lost Bianca's child from the enduring unpopularity which her step-mother and the Abbe Roux were certainly doing their best to bring upon her by their mistaken policy regarding the administration of her property, he would certainly do so, at whatever cost to himself. Yes, at four o'clock that afternoon he would go to the castle. By that hour the princess would certainly be visible, if she chose to be visible. He would send up his card to her with an urgent request that she would see him on a matter of grave importance. If she refused to do so, he would write to her--but such a letter as would leave her no possibility of mistaking his meaning.

The afternoon's task was certainly neither an easy nor an agreeable one; but it must in some way or another be accomplished. At least, Don Agostino reflected, he would have done his duty to his people at Montefiano, to Bianca Acorari, and to that absent Bianca who had assuredly willed that he should strive to protect her child.

Don Agostino entered his garden through the little gate by the side of the church. As he approached the house, he was surprised to hear, through the open window of his study, Ernana talking in earnest tones inside the room. His surprise was still greater, however, when at the sound of his footsteps on the gravel-path, Silvio Rossano's form appeared at the window. For a moment, indeed, Don Agostino felt something very like dismay. There were complications enough and to spare without fresh material being added to increase their number. He had purposely delayed writing again to Silvio, thinking that in a day or two the threatened disturbances would have either subsided or assumed proportions which might make his presence at Montefiano desirable in his own and Bianca Acorari's interest. Don Agostino doubted very much, however, whether this was the moment for Silvio to be seen at Montefiano. If his presence became known at the castle, it would probably be regarded by the princess as a proof that the agitation among the peasants had a further scope than merely to obtain the redress of their own and Fontana's grievances. She would not unreasonably suspect that he, Don Agostino, was using the agitation as a means whereby to help Silvio Rossano in renewing his endeavors to marry her step-daughter. As a matter of fact, Don Agostino was quite prepared so to use it, if its results were such as to encourage him to do so. But it would most certainly not further Bianca's or Silvio's interests were it to be supposed that these interests were in any way connected with the business that would take Don Agostino to the castle that afternoon.

He hurried into the house and met Silvio in the little passage outside his study.

"Am I an unwelcome guest?" Silvio said to him, quickly. "I hope not, because--"

"You are always welcome," interrupted Don Agostino, "but--well, to tell you the truth, Silvio, I am not sure that I am very pleased to see you. But if I am not pleased, it is on your own account, not on mine. May one ask what has brought you here so unexpectedly, _ragazzo mio_?"

Silvio took a crumpled newspaper out of his pocket--the number of the _Tribuna_ that his father had shown him the night before.

"That," he replied, briefly, handing the paper to Don Agostino, and pointing to the telegram dated from Montefiano.

Don Agostino read it. Then he uttered an exclamation of anger.

"Idiots!" he exclaimed; "idiots, and cowards, too! This is the Abbe Roux's doing, of course. Well, it is another blunder, an irremediable blunder. In two or three hours' time the report will be all over Montefiano that troops have been sent for. The afternoon post will bring the _Tribuna_--" He paused in evident agitation.

"I could not remain quietly in Rome after reading that," said Silvio. "So I took the morning train, and here I am. At first I could not understand what it all meant; for Bianca, though she mentioned that there was some trouble with the people because the Abbe Roux had persuaded her step-mother to dismiss the _fattore_, certainly did not write as if it was anything serious. All the same, I was uneasy, for one never knows what a small matter of this kind may not develop into. But Ernana, to whom I have been talking while waiting for you, has given me to understand that it is by no means a small matter, but that the people are really angry and threatening to force their way into the castle."

Don Agostino nodded. "Ernana is right," he said; "it is not a small thing. I fear, directly this telegram in the _Tribuna_ becomes known, that it will speedily become a very much bigger thing."

"Then I am doubly glad that I am here," observed Silvio, quietly.

Don Agostino glanced at him. "A moment ago," he said, "I wished that you had not appeared upon the scene. I did not think the time had arrived for you to do so. It was for this reason I delayed writing to you. I had hoped that, whatever might occur, no military aid would be asked for in order to settle a question which only needed to be handled with a little tact and in a conciliatory spirit. This telegram, however, alters the aspect of affairs considerably, and, on the whole, yes, Silvio, I think I am glad you have come. But for the next few hours, at any rate, you must not show yourself. Do you think your arrival here has been observed?" he added.

Silvio shook his head. "I think not," he replied. "Indeed, I hardly met a soul on my way here from Attigliano."

"The people are all in the _paese_," said Don Agostino. "The peasants have come in from miles around. No, you must certainly not be seen--at all events, till I have been to the castle."

"You are going to the castle?" Silvio asked, in some surprise.

Don Agostino briefly related to him the events of the morning, and explained how, as a last hope of bringing about a pacific solution of the situation, and of making the princess realize the danger of the policy the Abbe Roux had made her adopt, he had volunteered to ask to see her and Bianca Acorari personally.

"It was by no means easy," he said, "to persuade the more excited among the people to consent to my going to the princess. They suspected me of being in sympathy with the Abbe Roux," he added, with a smile. "Fortunately, however, the _sindaco_ supported me, and I persuaded a certain Mazza, who is practically the money-lender to all this district, and who for some reasons of his own is backing up the peasants, to advise the people to refrain from any further action until I had communicated to them the results of my interview with the princess. One thing is very certain," he continued, "I must, if possible, see Princess Montefiano before the news that troops have been asked for is known in the place. There is no saying what may not happen, in the mood the peasants are now in, should it be known that the princess has sought the intervention of the authorities rather than consent to receive a deputation."

"The telegram does not say that troops have actually been requisitioned," said Silvio; "it alludes to the probability of their being so, if the situation at Montefiano should not improve. It appears to me," he continued, "that the communication is something in the nature of a warning, or a threat, whichever you like to call it."

Don Agostino read the paragraph in the _Tribuna_ again.

"That is true," he said, "and you are right, Silvio. Whoever communicated the intelligence to the _Tribuna_ probably intended it both as a warning and as a threat. Well, as the former, it will have very little effect. As the latter, it will have a very bad effect, for it will be bitterly resented, unless I am much mistaken. In the mean time, there is no time to be lost. We must trust to the people keeping quiet for another few hours, until I have been to the castle. But you, my friend, must remain quietly here, unseen by anybody. I shall tell Ernana she must hold her tongue about your arrival. For you have become a celebrity in Montefiano, Silvio," he added, with a smile, "and everybody would know what had brought you here."

"Ah," exclaimed Silvio, "that is a thing I do not understand! How in the world have the people here got to know about Bianca and myself? Certainly the princess would not allow it to be talked about by anybody belonging to her household; and who else, except yourself, knows of it?"

Don Agostino shrugged his shoulders. "It is known by everybody that Donna Bianca has declared that she will marry nobody if she does not marry you," he replied. "Indeed," he continued, "I believe it is this love-affair of the _principessina_, as they call her, that has done more than anything else to arouse the indignation of the people against the princess and her brother and against the Abbe Roux. As yet they have not seen the young Roman whom their _padrona_ wishes for a husband instead of Baron d'Antin. When they do see him-- But do not let us waste any more time in talking, Silvio. Before we do anything else, let us have breakfast. You must be quite ready for it after your journey, and it is nearly one o'clock."

A couple of hours later Don Agostino left his house, and, choosing a lane leading through the outskirts of the town, in order to avoid the groups of peasants which would still be thronging the main street, made his way to the castle, having extracted a promise from Silvio that the latter would not go into the _paese_ until he had returned from his visit to the princess.

He could not help suspecting that his appearance at the entrance-gate of the castle was not altogether unexpected; for the two servants who, in response to his ringing the bell, drew back a lattice and surveyed him from the inside, promptly closed it, and threw open the great wooden doors studded with heavy iron nails, and as promptly closed and bolted them again as soon as he had passed into the court-yard.

Don Agostino informed them that he had come to see her excellency the princess on important business, and producing his card, asked that it might be taken to her at once, with the urgent request that she would receive him.

He was conducted across the court and up a flight of steps leading into a large hall on the first floor of the building, where he was left while the domestics went to execute their commission. In a few minutes one of the men returned. He was desired by her excellency to tell his reverence that she regretted being unable to receive him in person, but her brother, Baron d'Antin, and the Abbe Roux would be happy to see him in her place.

Don Agostino attempted to demur. It was of the greatest importance, he said, that he should see her excellency personally.

The venerable _maggior-domo_ spread out his hands with an apologetic gesture. He was grieved, he declared, to be obliged to disappoint his reverence, but her excellency had given strict orders that she was not to be disturbed--that she could receive no one. The Signor Barone and the Abbe Roux were ready to receive his reverence, if he would be pleased to follow him.

Don Agostino hesitated for a moment. Then he came to the conclusion that he had better accept the compromise that had evidently been made. Perhaps, indeed, the princess's absence might be an advantage. He could speak very plainly to Monsieur d'Antin and to the Abbe Roux if it became necessary to do so--more plainly, perhaps, than he could have done had Princess Montefiano been present. At any rate, he was inside the castle, and had been offered an opportunity of discussing the situation with those who were chiefly responsible for its existence, and this was something gained.

He had thought it more than likely that he would not be admitted within the castle walls, and that he would have to return to the _paese_ with the intelligence that he had failed in his mission.

He followed the _maggior-domo_ through the long gallery, with which the hall where he had waited communicated, and was ushered into the room used by the Abbe Roux as his study. The abbe, however, was not present, and Monsieur d'Antin came forward and introduced himself. His sister, he assured Don Agostino, much regretted her inability to receive him, but the events of the last day or two had somewhat upset her--and, after all, if he were not mistaken, Monsignor Lelli's business was more suitable for discussion by himself and Monsieur l'Abbe Roux than by ladies--was it not so? Monsieur l'Abbe would join them in a few minutes. In the mean time, anything that Monsignor Lelli might wish to say, he, Baron d'Antin, would faithfully refer to the princess. _Monsignore_ spoke French, of course? That was well, for Monsieur d'Antin's Italian was not sufficiently fluent to embark upon a business conversation. A cigarette? No? Well, if it was permitted, he would smoke one himself, and he was all attention, if _monsignore_ would proceed.

Don Agostino sat and watched the baron quietly. Monsieur d'Antin was very suave--very polite, and nothing could be more conciliatory than his attitude. It seemed, indeed, as though he were tacitly apologizing for his sister's refusal to receive the _parroco_, and that he was only anxious to do his best to remove all misunderstandings. Don Agostino recognized the diplomatic manner, and, so to speak, took Baron d'Antin's measure before he had uttered a dozen words.

"Doubtless, monsieur," he said, "you are aware of the object of my visit. The importance of that object must be my excuse for seeking to intrude myself upon Madame la Princesse. I regret that she is unable to receive me, because it is to her and to Donna Bianca Acorari that I am, as it were, accredited by the people of Montefiano. However, one cannot question a lady's right to receive or to refuse to receive a visitor, especially if that visitor comes on an unpleasant errand.