The Passport

It was evident that Silvio was making the best of his opportunities to learn from Concetta all that she might be able to tell him concerning Bianca, and also as to how she had acquired her information concerning the understanding between the Abbé Roux and Monsieur d'Antin. It was evident, also, that Concetta was readily imparting all the information she had to give on the subject, for the pair were so engrossed in their conversation that they were unaware of Don Agostino's approach.

"The princess wishes to see you," Don Agostino said to Silvio. "I have come to take you to her."

Concetta clapped her hands.

"Vittoria!" she exclaimed. "What have I been telling the signorino? That once her excellency's eyes were opened, there would be no more difficulties."

Don Agostino smiled. He thought to himself that if her excellency were to look at Silvio through Concetta's eyes, difficulties would in all probability quickly be smoothed away. But the question yet remained to be proved whether she would do so.

"Come, Silvio," he said, briefly, "you will find the princess alone."

"And Monsieur d'Antin?" asked Silvio.

Don Agostino took his arm and turned into the court-yard. "Monsieur d'Antin?" he repeated. "Ah, Monsieur d'Antin's nerves are upset; he has gone to his room. For the rest, he will not interfere with you. No, indeed; he will probably give you his blessing! Do you know, Silvio, that I cannot make up my mind as to which is the greater scoundrel of the two, Monsieur le Abbé or Monsieur le Baron. But there can be no question as to which has the better head – oh, none at all! The Abbé Roux put all his eggs in one basket; but Monsieur d'Antin divided his with admirable judgment. All the same, with it all, Monsieur d'Antin is a gentleman in his villanies, and a man of courage. The abbé is neither the one nor the other. Moreover, Monsieur d'Antin has a decided sense of humor; and humor, like charity, covers many sins. No, you need not fear Monsieur d'Antin. And now, Silvio, before we go to the princess, tell me what you have heard from Fontana's daughter. Everything, I suppose?"

"Sicuro! everything. She repeated to me the conversation between the abbé and Monsieur d'Antin she had overheard while standing in the secret passage, and also some of those between the abbé and the princess – so far as she was able to follow those last."

Don Agostino nodded. "It is as well that you should know of them," he said. "But, Silvio," he added, "do not say anything to the princess further to shake her confidence in what she believes to be her brother's generosity. She must suffer enough, poor woman, from the discovery of the abbé's treachery, and it would be cruel to give her another disillusion. You and Donna Bianca can afford to pretend that you both realize Monsieur d'Antin's disinterested conduct."

Silvio laughed. "I could, perhaps," he replied, "but Bianca – Concetta Fontana says that Bianca has declared she will never speak to him again; and when Bianca has made up her mind to do a thing – "

"She will do it," concluded Don Agostino. "One sees that very plainly," and then he paused and sighed. "Silvio," he said, suddenly, "there is one other thing I wish to say to you. It may be that the princess will ask you how it has come about that I have pleaded your cause with her. If she does so, tell her that I have pleaded it in the name of her whose name she bears. She will know what I mean. And show her this – as my credentials," and, drawing the little case containing the miniature of Bianca Acorari's mother from beneath his soutane, he placed it in Silvio's hand.

"You will bring it back to me," he said. "Yes, I took it with me to-day, thinking that if anything happened – if the soldiers had fired on the people – it would have been with me at the last – for they would have had to fire through me. There would have been a scandal afterwards, I suppose," he added, "when the portrait was found upon me; but by that time I should have been nearer to her – far away from the judgments of men. Come, Silvio mio," he continued, with a smile. "It is your passport, I hope – and it is not I only who give it to you, but one who has a better right than I to do so, and whose envoy I am."

Silvio took the case, and as he did so he kissed Don Agostino's hand.

"If somebody had done by you as you have done by me!" he burst out, passionately.

Don Agostino smiled. "Ragazzo mio," he interrupted, "the whole of life is an 'if.' Come." And mounting the steps together, they entered the vestibule of the piano nobile, where the maggior-domo advanced towards them, saying that he had orders to conduct them to the princess's private sitting-room.

Princess Montefiano, as Don Agostino had told Silvio she would be, was alone. She received Silvio with a distant courtesy, which, nevertheless, was not unkindly, as he was presented to her.

"My friend, Silvio Rossano, will tell you his own story, principessa," Don Agostino observed. "With your permission I will wait for him in the drawing-room, for he will return with me to my house," and he left them together. The princess did not speak for a few moments. She appeared to be thinking deeply, and every now and then Silvio felt that her eyes were fixed upon him, while, as he met her glance, he saw an inquiring and almost surprised expression in them. A more embarrassing situation it would certainly have been hard to conceive; but Silvio, who was accustomed to being interviewed by all sorts and conditions of people, comforted himself with the reflection that if he were ill at ease, Princess Montefiano could scarcely be less so. At length the princess broke the silence.

"Signor Rossano," she said, "we need not waste words in coming to our point. I have consented to receive you because – you must pardon me if I speak plainly you have placed my step-daughter, Donna Bianca Acorari, in an intolerable position for a young girl – a position which exposes her to the mercy of any malicious gossip who may choose to make free with her name."

Silvio started to his feet from the chair to which Princess Montefiano had motioned him.

"Signora Principessa," he exclaimed, "you forget that your consent was asked in the usual way."

"No, I do not forget," interrupted the princess. "It was asked after you had spoken to my step-daughter spoken to her alone – a thing unheard of, signore."

Silvio was silent for a moment. The princess was certainly right, and he could not deny it.

"Had I not spoken to Donna Bianca," he said, presently, "I could never have been certain that she returned my love. From the instant that I knew she did so, I never attempted to see her again until my father had made a formal offer on my behalf."

"Which offer was declined by me," returned the princess.

"By you, Signora Principessa, yes – "

"And should not that have been sufficient?"

In spite of himself, Silvio's eyes twinkled. "Well, no!" he replied. "It was sufficient neither for Donna Bianca nor for me."

"Signor Rossano!" exclaimed the princess, in amazement.

"Neither for Donna Bianca nor for me," repeated Silvio, tranquilly; "because, princess, we love each other, and we mean to marry – oh, not this year, or next year, perhaps – but when Donna Bianca is of an age to do as she chooses. Until that time arrives we are quite content to wait, if necessary. It will make no difference in the end."

Princess Montefiano tapped her foot impatiently on the floor. Bianca had said the very same words to her more than once.

"But surely," she began, "you must see for yourself the drawbacks – the difficulties! It is a delicate subject, and I do not wish to offend you, Signor Rossano, but – "

"But I am not noble? I understand that," interrupted Silvio. "It is doubtless a drawback in your eyes," he continued, quickly; "but as to difficulties, I have never been afraid of those. One can always surmount them. And I am not here to make excuses for not having a title," he added, a little haughtily. "We Rossanos have no need to be ashamed of our blood; and, if it comes to that, my mother was of a noble family. I have no need of Donna Bianca's money. My father is not a poor man, and I can earn money if I choose."

"Ah, your mother was noble?" asked Princess Montefiano. "I did not know that – "

"Oh, not of the alta nobiltà," said Silvio, "but of a noble family of the Romagna, of older descent than most of the Roman houses. But, Signora Principessa, as you said a few minutes ago, we need not waste words in discussion. Donna Bianca Acorari has done me the honor to say that she will marry me, and I am content to wait until she is in a position to do so. I thank you for having received me, if only because you have given me the opportunity of saying to you that under no circumstances will I seek to make Donna Bianca act against your consent and authority. We both recognize that authority, princess, and while it exists I shall certainly not be the one to dispute it. I should not, it is true, have promised as much twelve hours ago."

Princess Montefiano looked at him quickly, and there was an expression of approval in her glance. Had Silvio Rossano known it, he could not have uttered words more likely to ingratiate himself with her than those in which he expressed his recognition of her authority.

"And why not?" she asked.

Silvio hesitated. "Because I knew that Donna Bianca was the object of an intrigue – that an arrangement had been made whereby she was to marry a man much older than herself whom she could not love – "

"You allude to my brother, signore," the princess said, hastily. "But there was no intrigue on his part. He has behaved throughout this painful affair with a marvellous generosity and unselfishness. I must be frank with you, Signor Rossano, and tell you that my brother's primary object was to save Donna Bianca from the possible consequences of the false position in which your thoughtlessness – for I do you the justice, now that I have seen you and spoken with you, to believe it was nothing more had placed her."

Silvio bowed. "The fact remains," he said, "that Donna Bianca rejected Baron d'Antin's offer, knowing that she was already engaged to me. It is not a matter which I need discuss – the more so, as Don Agostino informs me that the baron has declared his determination to withdraw his suit. It is sufficient for me, Signora Principessa, to know that you no longer regard me as an adventurer, as a man whose birth and character do not permit of his aspiring to be the husband of Donna Bianca Acorari. For the rest, there is no more to be said. Time will prove that I do not seek Donna Bianca because she is heiress to lands and titles, but because I love her, and I know that she loves me. Signora Principessa, I have the honor to salute you, and with your permission I will rejoin Don Agostino."

"Wait, signore!" exclaimed the princess, suddenly, as, with a low bow, Silvio moved towards the door. "There are certain things I wish to ask you."

"Ask me anything," Silvio replied. "I am entirely at your service."

"What brings you here – to Montefiano – at this moment?" she continued, looking at him keenly. "It has been said that this disturbance of the peasantry has been largely fomented by you, for obvious reasons – that you wished to enlist public sympathy on your behalf."

"It has been said so, yes," returned Silvio, "by the Abbé Roux. But the Abbé Roux has said many things which will not bear investigation."

The princess winced. "But why are you here – at such a time?" she insisted.

"Because I knew from Donna Bianca that there were threatenings of a rising on the part of the peasants, and yesterday evening I read in a newspaper in Rome that troops had been asked for, to proceed to Montefiano. When I saw that, I determined to come by the first available train, lest there should be danger to her."

"You heard from my step-daughter!" repeated the princess in amazement. "But she knew nothing. Besides, how could she communicate with you, or you with her? There is some fresh mystery here, some new deception that I do not yet understand. Will you be so good as to explain yourself, signore?"

"Donna Bianca knew everything," said Silvio, "except that the troops had been summoned. This she did not know. When the mob burst into the court-yard of the castle, your fattore's daughter went to Donna Bianca's room by the secret passage, in order to implore her to come out and speak to the people – "

The princess stared at him. "By the secret passage!" she repeated. "Signor Rossano, what fables are these?"

"Ah – you do not know – they have not explained to you yet?" asked Silvio, quickly. "Sicuro– by the secret passage which leads into Donna Bianca's room – where the portrait of the cardinal is – "