Part 28

"Monsieur le Baron, I think there is no necessity to waste words, and this is not the moment to discuss the rights and the wrongs of the questions which are agitating the minds of the people here at Montefiano. I have come to ask--nay, to implore the princess to reconsider her refusal to receive the deputation suggested by the peasants, and to allow me to tell the people that she and Donna Bianca will listen to their representatives. The people are within their rights, monsieur, and it is I, their priest, who tell you so. They have been treated unjustly in the name of Casa Acorari, and they appeal to the princess and to Donna Bianca Acorari for permission personally to represent their grievances."

Monsieur d'Antin nodded gravely. "I quite understand your view of the matter, Monsieur le Cure," he said. "It is natural that the sympathies of a priest should be with his people; but you must remember that my sister has to regard the question from a business, and not from the sentimental, point of view. Her position obliges her to think, first of all, of her step-daughter, Donna Bianca's, interests. Those in whom my sister confides to advise her in business matters connected with the Montefiano property, do not share your view as to any injustice having been committed."

"Because, monsieur," returned Don Agostino, bluntly, "Madame la Princesse confides in individuals who are ignorant as to the condition in which the people live, and who are, therefore, incompetent to advise her--"

At this moment the door opened, and the Abbe Roux entered the room. The greeting between him and Monsignor Lelli, if courteous, was certainly not cordial. It was some years since they had last beheld each other, but no allusion was made by either to their past acquaintance.

Monsieur d'Antin looked quickly at the abbe as he came into the room, and Don Agostino fancied that, as he returned the glance, the Abbe Roux shook his head almost imperceptibly.

"Monsignor Lelli," Monsieur d'Antin observed airily, "has come this afternoon as an ambassador from--what shall we call them, Monsieur l'Abbe--the rebels, eh? He wishes my sister to reconsider her refusal to receive their deputation."

"It would seem scarcely necessary for madame to do so," said the abbe, coldly. "Monsignor Lelli," he continued, "has apparently taken upon himself the functions of the deputation."

"Precisely, monsieur," observed Don Agostino, tranquilly. "It seemed to me not impossible that the princess and Donna Bianca Acorari might listen to my representations as _parroco_ of Montefiano, even though the reception of a deputation might not be permitted by their advisers."

The Abbe Roux frowned angrily.

"Permitted, monsieur!" he repeated. "I do not understand you. The princess stands in no need of permission to act as she thinks fit and as may be advantageous to Donna Bianca's future interests. Nor do I understand why you assume Donna Bianca Acorari to have any voice in what the princess may choose to do as her guardian. You must surely be well aware that, until she is of age, Donna Bianca has absolutely nothing to say in the management of her properties. It is, therefore, absurd to drag her name into any question arising in connection with that management."

Don Agostino looked at him steadily. "I am aware that Donna Bianca does not enter into the full possession of her estates until she is of age--or until she marries," he said. "Nevertheless, the fact does not prevent her from being regarded by the people in and round Montefiano as their mistress--as the only child of and successor to the late Prince of Montefiano. And the people will insist on regarding her as such, and upon being permitted access to her.

"It is not for me, Monsieur l'Abbe, to discuss what may be your motives for advising the princess to pursue a course which is not only unjust to the people, but injurious to her step-daughter's true interests. I have come here this afternoon to warn the princess that the people intend to insist upon being heard, not by her only, but by Donna Bianca Acorari. They are loyal to Donna Bianca--but--you must pardon me for my plain speaking--they look upon the princess as a foreigner who allows foreign influence to interfere between them and their lawful _padrona_. At any moment, Monsieur l'Abbe, unless you advise the princess to adopt a more conciliatory course, you may hear this from the people themselves. They will tell it you more roughly than I have told it you."

The Abbe Roux laughed disagreeably. "You are very disinterested, _monsignore_," he remarked, "but I regret that I cannot accept your views upon business matters--and this affair of the peasants is purely a business--a financial--matter. You may very possibly be mistaken in your judgment, _monsignore_. It would not be the first time, I think, that you were mistaken in your estimate of sound finance. No, Madame la Princesse will not, I imagine, be disposed to accept your advice on such matters."

The sneer and the insinuation contained in the abbe's words were patent enough, and for a moment Don Agostino reddened with anger. He restrained himself with an effort, however. It was very evident that the Abbe Roux was losing his temper; and time, valuable time, was passing.

Don Agostino shrugged his shoulders, and then, turning his back upon the abbe, he addressed Monsieur d'Antin, whose face he had noticed with some surprise had worn a sudden but unmistakable look of disgust and contempt while the Abbe Roux was speaking.

"Monsieur le Baron," he said, quietly, "I appeal to you as to one who is not a professional man of business in the employ of Madame la Princesse, but who is her brother, and who may therefore not be altogether influenced by pecuniary considerations. I entreat you to take my warning to the princess, and to persuade her to allow me to return, while there is yet time, to the people, with the news that I have spoken with her and with Donna Bianca, and that she is prepared to make some concessions. I entreat you, also, to recall, in her name, the application which has been made for military aid--"

The abbe and Monsieur d'Antin both started. "How, monsieur?" exclaimed the abbe. "Military aid! What folly is this? Who talks of military aid having been applied for?"

Don Agostino drew Silvio's _Tribuna_ from his _soutane_ and gave it to Monsieur d'Antin.

"If it has not been actually applied for," he said, pointing to the telegram from Montefiano, "its requisition is threatened. That newspaper arrives in Montefiano every afternoon from Rome," he added, "and by this time the telegram will have been read by everybody in the _paese_."

The Abbe Roux muttered something very like an oath under his breath. Then he looked furtively, almost apologetically, at Don Agostino.

"Absurd!" he exclaimed. "A mere canard! Probably some occasional correspondent to the _Tribuna_, in Montefiano thought he would be very clever and anticipate events."

Don Agostino looked at him narrowly. It was clear that, whoever had sent the telegram to the _Tribuna_, the abbe was disagreeably surprised by its publication. He looked, indeed, both taken aback and ill at ease. Don Agostino, always watching him, saw him take out his watch and look at it, glancing at Monsieur d'Antin as he did so.

"_Enfin_, monsieur," said Don Agostino, again addressing Monsieur d'Antin, "once more I appeal to you as the brother of Madame la Princesse. Am I to go back to the people and tell them that I have obtained nothing, and that I have not been permitted to see either the princess or Donna Bianca? Monsieur," he added, earnestly, "let me beg of you to consider. So little is demanded of the princess--so much bitterness and misery will be the result of not giving way. At least send a telegram to countermand any despatch of troops to Montefiano, and authorize me to tell the people that the telegram in the _Tribuna_ was communicated without there being any foundation for it."

Monsieur d'Antin rose from the arm-chair in which he had been smoking cigarettes unremittingly.

"One moment, my dear monsieur," he said to Don Agostino; "believe me, if the matter rested with me, you should go back to your peasants with hands full of concessions. But I have no influence with my sister in these matters. I do not think she understands them; that is true. But unfortunately she knows that I understand them even less than she does. After all, it is natural. We are not Italians, as you pointed out to Monsieur l'Abbe just now."

"It is not necessary to be Italian, monsieur, in order to understand when injustices are being committed. A little common sympathy and a little common-sense are all that is required in this instance; and these qualities are not the exclusive attribute of my compatriots," said Don Agostino, dryly.

The Abbe Roux came forward and placed himself between Don Agostino and Monsieur d'Antin.

"Monsieur le Baron," he said, casting an angry glance at Don Agostino, "it seems to me that we are wasting time. Monsignor Lelli has come here, apparently, with the object of attempting to induce the princess to give way to the insolent demands of these ignorant peasants, and to dictate to her what she should and should not do. Well, I, Monsieur le Baron, as you well know, am honored by the princess's confidence; and, as you also know, I am deputed by her excellency to give Monsignor Lelli her final and definite answer to his representations on behalf of the peasants and their friends."

Don Agostino interrupted him.

"How did the princess know that I was coming here to-day on behalf of the peasants?" he asked, abruptly.

The Abbe Roux looked suddenly perplexed; and Monsieur d'Antin joined the tips of his fingers together and laughed softly to himself. Don Agostino glanced at him keenly. Baron d'Antin's manner puzzled him. It was the manner that an amused spectator of a comedy might display, but it was certainly not fitting to one of the characters on the stage.

The abbe scowled. "_Parbleu!_" he exclaimed, roughly, "we are not all imbeciles here; and we are better informed as to what has been going on than Monsignor Lelli is aware! We know, for instance, that he did not hesitate to compromise his position as _parroco_ by encouraging with his presence a meeting held this morning in a _caffe_ by the leaders of this agitation, and that he took upon himself the responsibility of being their spokesman. Ah, yes, _monsignore_, the princess expected your visit this afternoon; but, as you see, she altogether declines to receive you in person."

Don Agostino turned to him with quiet dignity.

"So be it, Monsieur l'Abbe," he said, tranquilly. "The princess must take the responsibility of declining to receive me in person, and to allow me access to Donna Bianca Acorari. Nevertheless, I am here as the representative of Donna Bianca's people, and I will discharge my duty. I shall say, boldly--"

"To the princess and Donna Bianca? No, _monsignore_, you will not have the opportunity. It would be well that you should understand this finally."

"No, not to the princess and Donna Bianca, but to you!" continued Don Agostino. "You tell me that you are honored with the princess's entire confidence. I hope that she equally enjoys your own, Monsieur l'Abbe. If so, you will repeat to her what I say. As you are aware that I attended the meeting held this morning in the principal _caffe_ of Montefiano, you are, no doubt, also aware of the attitude of the people towards the princess, towards Monsieur le Baron d'Antin, and towards yourself. You no doubt know that they regard you, Monsieur l'Abbe Roux, as a foreigner who has abused the confidence the princess has had in you as a priest, in order by degrees to fill your own pockets out of Donna Bianca Acorari's possessions and at the expense of the people. You doubtless know that they accuse you of being the real lessee of the rents paid by the tenants on this estate, and believe that the recent raising of those rents and the dismissal of the _fattore_ Fontana, for having protested against any increase in the rent, was due to you. You will have heard, also, that you are credited with having devised a scheme whereby Donna Bianca Acorari is to marry Monsieur le Baron d'Antin in order to keep her patrimony in the family--so to speak--and enable you to continue to administer the properties for some years to come. Of course, Monsieur l'Abbe, you know all this, since you are well informed of what is being said and done in Montefiano."

The Abbe Roux's face while Don Agostino was speaking presented a study in some of the various feelings capable of being reflected on the human countenance. Anger, mortification, dismay--all these displayed themselves in turn as he listened to Don Agostino's words, each one of which was delivered with a calm incisiveness which added to the force of his speech.

"_Monsignore!_" he exclaimed, furiously. "Are you aware of what you are saying? Monsieur le Baron," he added, turning to Monsieur d'Antin, "this is an insult--not to me only, but to the princess and to yourself--"

Monsieur d'Antin looked from one to the other curiously, almost as if he enjoyed the situation.

"I think not, Monsieur l'Abbe," he said, with a little smile, and rubbing his white hands gently together. "I think not, my dear friend. Monsignor Lelli is merely stating the opinion that others hold concerning you--or concerning us, perhaps I should say. He does not, I am convinced, mean us to suppose that he shares this opinion."

Don Agostino was silent.

"In any case," continued Monsieur d'Antin, with a slight shrug of the shoulders as the silence became markedly prolonged, "it is not worth your while to be angry, my dear abbe, for Monsignor Lelli might regard your anger as a proof that the peasants at Montefiano are a very shrewd race--ha, ha, ha!" and he broke into a gentle laugh which sounded genuine enough, but certainly did not tend to allay the abbe's fury.

"No," he continued. "Let us remain calm, I beg of you, and let us hear what else Monsignor Lelli has to tell us from these admirable peasants."

"I have little else to add to what I have already said," observed Don Agostino, "and I make no apologies for the words I have used. They are plain words, and even the Abbe Roux will not, I think, misunderstand them. As to my own opinion--well, I agree with you, Monsieur le Baron, that the people of Montefiano are shrewd, and I believe their accusations to be just."

The Abbe Roux made a step forward, and, purple with rage, shook his clinched fist in Don Agostino's face.

"And you," he exclaimed, "you, whom the Holy Father sent to minister to these pigs of peasants in order to avoid the scandal of proceeding against you for fraudulent speculation with money intrusted to you, you dare to bring these accusations against me! Liar, hypocrite, pig--like the peasants you represent!"

"My dear friend," remonstrated Monsieur d'Antin, laying his hand on the abbe's arm, "let me implore you to be calm. Recollect that you and Monsignor Lelli are priests--that you both wear the _soutane_. You cannot demand satisfaction of each other in the usual way--you cannot challenge each other to a duel. It would be--excessively funny," and Monsieur d'Antin laughed again, in evident enjoyment of the idea. "Besides," he continued, "Monsignor Lelli has, no doubt, more to tell us. We have not yet heard what it is that the peasants require of my sister."

"Monsieur," said Don Agostino, "I can answer for the peasants that, if they are allowed to see and speak with Donna Bianca Acorari, they will certainly not proceed to any excesses. They will probably return quietly to their occupations."

"And you," interrupted the Abbe Roux, in a voice that was hoarse and trembling with anger, "can take back to the peasants the princess's answer which I am commissioned to give in her name. The answer is, that they will not be permitted to see Donna Bianca Acorari, who has nothing to say in the matter of the administration of these lands, or to approach her with any story of their grievances. The princess, _monsignore_, is perfectly well aware of all that underlies this agitation, and that it is directed chiefly against myself. She will not be intimidated into recalling Giuseppe Fontana, or into lowering the rents. She--"

He stopped abruptly. A confused sound of voices came from the gallery outside, and a moment afterwards the door was flung hastily open and the old _maggior-domo_ burst into the room, followed by several of the servants, who stood in a frightened group on the threshold.

"The _contadini_!" he exclaimed. "There is a crowd of three hundred or more outside the entrance-gates, and they declare that if the gates are not opened, they will break them down, Signor Abate! Ah, _Madonna mia_! It is a _repubblica_--a revolution--listen!" and rushing across the gallery, he threw open one of the windows looking into the court-yard.

The thick walls of the castle had effectually prevented any sound from penetrating to the apartments on the other side of the gallery, all of which were situated in the portion of the building added to the mediaeval fortress by Cardinal Acorari, and overlooked the terrace and open country beneath it. From the gallery, however, the angry roar of an excited mob could distinctly be heard; and, when the windows were opened by the old _maggior-domo_, shouts of "Down with the foreigners! Long live the Principessina Bianca!" became plainly audible.

Don Agostino looked at the abbe and Monsieur d'Antin. "You see, monsieur," he said, quietly, to the latter, "I did not exaggerate matters. But even now it is not too late. If the princess and Donna Bianca will show themselves to the peasants, and allow me to address the people in their name, I am confident that order will quickly be restored. Hark!" he added. "They are attempting to break open the gates." And even as he spoke, the noise of heavy blows falling on wood-work re-echoed through the court-yard.

Monsieur d'Antin, to do him justice, appeared to be far more composed than the Abbe Roux. He listened for a moment or two almost impassively to the shouts and the uproar which were growing ever louder and more violent. The abbe, on the contrary, was trembling with an excitement that might have proceeded either from fear or from rage, and probably, as Don Agostino thought, from both. He had his watch in his hand, and looked at it repeatedly, as though counting every minute that passed. Don Agostino noticed his action, and as he did so a sudden suspicion dawned upon him.

Monsieur d'Antin drew the abbe aside, and spoke with him for a minute or so in an undertone. The Abbe Roux, it was evident, dissented energetically from his remarks, and finally, with a shrug of the shoulders, Monsieur d'Antin left him and advanced to Don Agostino.

"Monsieur le Cure," he said, "as I have already told you, my sister does not take advice from me as to the management of her affairs, and I frankly confess to you that I do not understand the situation sufficiently to make interference on my part warrantable. The Abbe Roux is my sister's adviser in all that concerns her affairs. I must refer you to him."

Monsieur d'Antin approached the window again; and then, taking his cigarette-case from his pocket, he proceeded to light a cigarette with quiet deliberation. Don Agostino glanced at him almost with approval. At any rate, he reflected, Baron d'Antin, whatever else he might be, was no coward, and knew how to _se tirer d'affaires_ like a gentleman.

"Yes," exclaimed the Abbe Roux, "you, Monsieur le Cure, have to refer to me in this matter. And I tell you again that it is useless that you and the _canaille_ attempt to intimidate the princess--absolutely useless. What did I say to you a few minutes ago? We are not imbeciles here--certainly not imbeciles, monsieur; as you and your friends outside will find out--if they dare to continue this violence much longer. No; go to these insolent peasants, and tell them that your mission has failed."

Don Agostino looked the abbe steadily in the face for a moment, and then, without a word, turned his back upon him for the second time that afternoon.

"Monsieur le Baron," he said, coldly, "it would be well that you should inform the princess what is taking place, and you will doubtless know how to prevent her and Donna Bianca Acorari from being unduly alarmed. I have done my office here, and it is not my fault if I have failed. My place now is with my people."

Don Agostino was about to pass Monsieur d'Antin with a formal bow, when the latter suddenly held out his hand.

"_Monsignore_," he said, "you came as a peacemaker; and, believe me, I regret that you do not take away with you terms of peace. I regret it, I repeat, and I am not responsible for what has occurred, or for what may occur."

Don Agostino scarcely heard him. He hurried down the gallery and across the entrance-hall, followed by two trembling domestics, who unbarred the doors opening on to the court-yard.

By this time the fury of the crowd at finding itself prevented from entering the castle had passed all bounds of control. Blow after blow rained upon the wooden gates leading into the court; and suddenly, while Don Agostino was in the act of crossing the court-yard, the gates burst open with a crash, having given way before the impetus of a mad rush from the mob without.

For a moment the peasants stood undecided--surprised, perhaps, at the sudden yielding of the gates.

Don Agostino, seeing their indecision, advanced towards them.

"My friends--" he began.

A great shout drowned his voice.

"_Traditore! Vigliacco d'un prete!_"

Then a stone struck him, and, with a hoarse roar like that of an angry beast, the crowd surged into the court-yard.

*XXXII*

The stone hurled at Don Agostino had fortunately only hit him on the body, for, owing to the violence with which it had been thrown, it certainly would have stunned him had it struck him on the head. As it was, however, the folds of his _soutane_ somewhat broke the force of the blow. Don Agostino was scarcely conscious that he had been struck, so great was his amazement at the savage reception he had met with at the hands of his parishioners. Looking round on the angry faces and threatening gestures of the mob of peasants in front of him, Don Agostino speedily realized that neither Sor Stefano nor any of the more prominent supporters of the peasantry were among those who had forced their way into the court-yard. A feeling of anger and indignation took possession of him as he noted the fact. It was the usual thing, he thought bitterly--the invariable system of the incitement of the poor and the ignorant to do the dirty work by those who would instantly desert them in the hour of danger.

Disgust at what he believed to be treachery on the part of those who had been mainly instrumental in instigating the peasants to their present action quickly took the place of the surprise and indignation that Don Agostino had felt at the way in which the people had suddenly turned against him.