Chapter XXVI: Agatha

Michel himself opened the little gate at which the path which they had followed came to an end, and, having crossed the park diagonally, stood at the foot of the staircase cut in the steep rock. The reader will not have forgotten that the Palmarosa palace was built against a precipitous slope, and formed three distinct buildings, which ascended the mountain backward, so to speak; that the topmost floor, called the Casino, being more isolated and cooler than the others, was occupied, according to the invariable custom of the country, by the most distinguished person in the family; that is to say, the mistress's apartments were on a level with the summit of the cliff, which was transformed into a garden, of small extent but most charming, at a great height, and on the opposite side from the main façade of the lower floors. There the princess lived in retirement, as in a luxurious hermitage, having no need to descend the staircase of her palace, or to be seen by her servants, when she chose to take a walk in the fresh air.

Michel had previously seen this sanctuary, but very hurriedly, as we know; and when he was sitting there with Magnani during the ball, he was so excited and talking so earnestly that he had not observed its arrangement and its surroundings.

When he came out upon that terrace with the Piccinino, after scaling the cliff, he obtained a better idea of its location, and observed that it was so disposed that it was in fact a little fortress. The staircase cut in the rock was much better adapted for a means of exit than of entrance; it was so crowded between two walls of lava, and so steep, that a woman's hand could easily have hurled back an insolent or dangerous visitor. Moreover, there was on the last stair, with nothing in the way of a landing between, a small gilt gate, unusually high and narrow, hung between two slender marble columns as smooth as the masts of a ship. On the outer side of both these columns was the sheer precipice, with nothing to grasp except heavy iron scroll-work in the style of the seventeenth century, fashioned to represent fantastic dragons, bristling with spikes in every direction; a decoration that served a double purpose, and was very difficult to surmount when one had no purchase and a precipice under his feet.

This fortification, if we may so describe it, was not without its utility in a region where brigands from the mountain carried on their operations in the valleys and the plain, even to the very gates of the cities. Michel observed the defences with the satisfaction of a jealous lover, but the Piccinino glanced at them with an air of contempt, and even went so far as to say, while they were ascending the staircase, that it was a sugar-plum citadel, which would be very effective at a dessert.

Michel rang the prescribed number of times, and the gate was immediately opened. A veiled woman stood there, impatiently awaiting them. In the darkness, she seized Michel's hand as he entered the garden, and the young artist, recognizing the Princess Agatha by that gentle pressure, trembled and lost his head, so that the Piccinino, who did not lose his, quietly removed the key which Michel had placed in the lock as he rang the bell. The bandit placed it in his belt after closing the gate, and when Michel remembered his oversight, it was too late to repair it. They had all three entered the princess's boudoir, and that was not the moment to seek a quarrel with a man so entirely free from timidity as the _Destatore's_ son.

Agatha had been warned and as fully advised as possible of the character and habits of the man with whom it was necessary for her to enter into relations; she was too much of a Sicilian to have any serious prejudices against the profession of bandit, and she was determined to make the greatest pecuniary sacrifices in order to make certain of the Piccinino's services. Nevertheless, she felt, at sight of him, a painful emotion which she had difficulty in concealing from him; and when he kissed her hand, gazing at her with his bold and mocking eyes, she was conscious of a painful feeling of discomfort, and her face changed perceptibly, although she was able to maintain an affable and courteous demeanor.

She knew that her first care must be to flatter the adventurer's secret vanity, by showing him much consideration and calling him _captain_ to his heart's content. So she did not fail to bestow that title upon him as she invited him to sit at her right hand, while there was a more familiar kindliness in her manner of waving Michel to a chair partly behind her, near the back of her couch. Then, leaning toward him without looking at him, and resting her elbow close to his shoulder, as if to be prepared to call his attention by a movement apparently accidental, she attempted to enter upon the business before them.

But the Piccinino, noticing this manœuvre, and apparently considering that he was too far away from her, left his chair and unceremoniously seated himself beside her, on the sofa.

At that moment the Marquis della Serra, who had probably been waiting in an adjoining room for the conversation to begin, entered noiselessly, saluted the bandit with silent courtesy, and sat down near Michel, after shaking hands with him. Michel felt reassured by the presence of the man whom he could not help looking upon as his rival. He had already begun to wonder if he should not soon be tempted to throw the Piccinino out of the window; and as such an exploit might well have some serious result, he hoped that the bandit would be so far restrained by the marquis's grave face and dignified bearing, that he would not dare to overstep the limits of propriety.

The Piccinino knew that he ran no risk of being betrayed by the Marquis della Serra; indeed it pleased him to see that great nobleman offer him pledges of the alliance about to be made with him, to which the marquis must necessarily become a party.

"So the Marquis della Serra, too, is my friend and my accomplice?" he said to Agatha, in a reproachful tone.

"Signor Carmelo," replied the marquis, "you doubtless know that I was a near kinsman of the Prince of Castro-Reale, and that, consequently, I am your near kinsman. I was very young when the _Destatore's_ true name was discovered by the police of Catania, and perhaps you are aware that I rendered the outlaw some important services at that time."

"I am familiar with my father's story," replied the young bandit, "and it is enough for me to know that the Marquis della Serra has transferred to me the good-will with which he honored him."

Gratified in his vanity, resolved not to play a ridiculous rôle, and equally resolved to make everybody's will bend beneath his own, the Piccinino desired to carry out his purpose with spirit and good taste. So he speedily assumed a graceful and dignified attitude on the sofa, and imparted to his insolent and lustful glance an expression of benignant and almost respectful interest.

The princess broke the ice, and set forth the business in hand concisely, in almost the same words that Fra Angelo had used to induce the young wolf to leave his den. The Piccinino listened to her exposition, and his face did not betray the profound incredulity that lay behind his apparent attention.

But when the princess had finished, he coolly renewed his question as to the will, and declared that, in case it had already been abstracted, the kidnapping of Abbé Ninfo would seem to him a very tardy precaution, and his own intervention a source of useless trouble and _expense_.

Princess Agatha had not been horribly unhappy to no purpose. She had learned to detect the wiles of concealed passions, and her skill in that respect was not derived from her simple and straightforward mind, but acquired at her own expense in her relations with natures directly contrary to her own. So she very soon concluded that the _captain's_ scruples were feigned, and that he had some secret motive which it was most essential to discover.

"Signor captain," she said, "if you have formed that opinion of my position, we must stop here, for I have asked to see you much more for the purpose of obtaining your advice than of telling you my ideas. However, be good enough to listen to some details which it was not in Fra Angelo's power to give you.

"My uncle the cardinal has made a will in which he constitutes me his sole heir; and it was only about ten days ago that, on his way from Catania to his villa of Ficarazzi, where he now is, he made a détour in order to pay me a visit which I did not expect. I found my uncle in the same physical condition as when I saw him a little while before, at Catania; that is to say, helpless, deaf, and unable to speak distinctly enough to make himself understood without the assistance of Abbé Ninfo, who knows or guesses his desires with rare sagacity--unless he interprets or translates them to suit himself with unmeasured insolence! However, on that occasion, Abbé Ninfo seemed to me to follow my uncle's wishes in every respect; for the object of that visit was to show me the will, and to inform me that the cardinal's affairs were in perfect order."

"Who showed you the will, signora?" said the Piccinino; "for his eminence cannot move his arm or his hand at all, can he?"

"Patience, captain, I will not omit any detail. Doctor Recuperati, the cardinal's physician, had charge of the will, and I understood clearly enough, from my uncle's glances and his excitement, that he did not wish that document to leave his hands. Two or three times Abbé Ninfo came forward to take it, on the pretext of handing it to me, and my uncle glared at him with his terrible eyes and roared like a dying lion. The doctor replaced the will in his portfolio and said to me: 'I beg that your ladyship will not share his eminence's anxiety. However great the esteem and confidence inspired by Abbé Ninfo, this paper having been entrusted to my keeping, no other person than myself--not even the Pope or the king--shall touch a document of so much importance to you.' Doctor Recuperati is an honorable, incorruptible man, and as firm as a rock in emergencies."

"True, signora," said the bandit, "but he is stupid, and Abbé Ninfo is not."

"I am well aware that Abbé Ninfo is audacious enough to invent some sort of a fable and lead the excellent doctor into a commonplace trap. That is why I have requested you, captain, to remove that hateful schemer from the scene for a time."

"I will do it, if it is not too late; for I should not care to risk my bones for nothing, and especially to endanger my reputation for talent, for which I care more than for my life. Once more, signora, do you think that it is not too late to resort to this expedient?"

"If it is too late, captain, it has been so not more than two hours," replied Agatha, observing him closely; "for, two hours ago, I paid a visit to my uncle, and the doctor, at a sign from him, showed me the paper once more, in Abbé Ninfo's presence."

"And it was the same?"

"Absolutely the same."

"There was no codicil in Ninfo's favor?"

"Not a word had been changed or added. The priest himself, who blandly pretends to be interested in my behalf, and whose every sidelong glance seems to say to me: 'You will have to pay me for my zeal,' insisted on my re-reading the paper carefully."

"And you did it?"

"I did it."

The Piccinino, in view of the princess's self-possession and tranquillity, began to form a more exalted idea of her merit; for hitherto he had seen in her nothing more than a seductive and charming woman.

"I am very well satisfied with these explanations," he said; "but, before taking any steps, I must know something more. Are you quite sure, signora, that within the last two hours Abbé Ninfo has not taken Doctor Recuperati by the throat and extorted that paper from him?"

"How can I know, captain? You alone can tell me, when you have consented to begin your secret investigation. However, the doctor is a strong and brave man, and his simplicity would not go so far as to allow himself to be robbed by a weak, chicken-hearted creature like Abbé Ninfo."

"But what would prevent Ninfo, who is a scoundrel of the first order, and has relations with all the greatest villains in the country, from hiring a _bravo_, who, for an _honorable_ reward, may have lain in wait for the doctor and murdered him--or who is all ready to do it at this moment?"

The tone in which the Piccinino presented this suggestion caused the three persons who were listening to him a painful shock.

"Poor doctor!" cried the princess, turning pale; "can it be that such a crime has been planned or executed? In heaven's name, explain yourself, signor captain!"

"Never fear, signora, that crime has not been committed; but it might have been, for it was determined upon."

"In that case, signor," said the princess, seizing both the bandit's hands with a gesture of entreaty, "pray go at once. Save the life of an honorable man, and make sure of the person of a vile knave, capable of any crime."

"And suppose the will falls into my hands during the battle?" said the bandit, rising but not releasing the princess's hands, which he had seized in a firm grasp as soon as they touched his.

"The will, signor captain?" she replied, energetically. "Of what moment is half of my fortune, when it is a question of saving victims from the assassin's dagger? I care not what happens to the will. Seize the monster who covets it. Ah! if I thought that I could satisfy his resentment by giving it up to him, he might long ago have looked upon himself as its undisturbed possessor!"

"But suppose that I become its possessor?" said the adventurer, fastening his lynx eyes on Agatha's; "that would not suit Ninfo, who knows very well that his eminence is in no condition to make or even to dictate another. But would you, signora, who have been imprudent enough to tell me what I did not know, who have informed me to what a ridiculous custodian a document of so great importance has been entrusted--would you be perfectly at ease?"

The princess had understood for a long time that the bandit would do nothing unless he could see a possibility of obtaining possession of the will to his own advantage. She had powerful reasons for being ready to sacrifice it to him, and to hand over an enormous sum to him without regret, when he should come to bargain with her for the restitution of her proof of inheritance; for everybody knew, and the bandit, who seemed to have studied the affair so carefully beforehand, probably was not ignorant of the fact, that there was an earlier will in the hands of a notary, which disinherited Agatha in favor of a distant relation. In a paroxysm of hatred and resentment against his niece, the cardinal had made that first will, and had made no secret of the fact. To be sure, when he became so ill, and received from her marks of sincere respect and affection, he had made different arrangements. But he had left the previous will in existence, in case it should be his pleasure to destroy the new one. When the wicked have a good impulse, they always leave a door open for the return of their evil genius.

Agatha had already made up her mind with respect to the Piccinino's ambitions; but by the way in which he allowed them to appear, she understood that there was a large admixture of vanity in his avarice, and she had the fortunate inspiration to gratify both of the bandit's passions at the same time.

"Signor de Castro-Reale," she said, making an effort to pronounce a name that she abhorred, and to confer it upon him as a title rightfully belonging to the _Destatore's_ natural child, "the will would be so safe in your hands, that I should be glad if I could place it there myself."

Agatha had conquered. The bandit's head was completely turned, and another passion, which was contending with greed in his heart, gained the upper hand in a twinkling. He put both of the signora's trembling hands to his lips and bestowed upon them a kiss so long and so passionate that Michel and the marquis himself shuddered. Another hope than that of wealth took possession of the Piccinino's brain. A violent passion had sprung to life within him on the night of the ball, when he saw her admired and coveted by so many men whom she did not even deign to notice, himself included; for she believed that she had never seen him before this interview, although he hoped that she was simply pretending not to recognize his face.

He had been incited especially by the apparent hopelessness of such a conquest. Although somewhat disdainful and apparently chaste with the women of his own station, the Piccinino had the appetites of a wild beast; but vanity filled so large a place in all his instincts that he rarely had an opportunity to satisfy them. This time the opportunity was still uncertain, but the prospect was most intoxicating to his enterprising, obstinate nature, fruitful in expedients, and enamored of difficult exploits, reputed to be impossible.

"Well, signora," he cried at last, in a chivalrous tone, "your confidence in me proceeds from a noble heart, and I will not fail to justify it. Have no fear for Doctor Recuperati: he is in no danger whatsoever. It is quite true that Abbé Ninfo made a bargain this very day with a certain man, who promised to murder him; but, not only does the abbé propose to wait until the cardinal is on his death-bed, which is not the case as yet, but the dagger which is to strike your friend will not leave its sheath without my permission. There is no reason for such great haste, therefore, and I can safely return to my mountain for a few days. Ninfo is to come in person to advise us of the favorable moment to bury the knife in the good doctor's ample waistcoat, and, when that moment comes, instead of performing that agreeable duty, we will seize the abbé's person, begging him to enjoy the mountain air with us until it shall please your ladyship to restore his liberty."

The princess, who had been perfectly self-possessed thus far, became perturbed and replied in a quivering voice:

"I thought, captain, that you knew of another circumstance which makes us all very impatient to know that Abbé Ninfo is on the mountain. Doctor Recuperati is not the only one of my friends who is in danger, and I instructed Fra Angelo to tell you our other reasons for desiring to be rid of his presence forthwith."

The catlike Piccinino had not finished playing with the victim he coveted. He pretended not to understand or not to remember that Michel and his father were principally interested in the abbé's abduction.

"I think," he said, "that your highness exaggerates the dangers of Ninfo's presence about the cardinal. You must be aware that his eminence has the most profound contempt for that underling; that he can hardly endure his presence, although he realizes the advantage of having so zealous and quick-witted an interpreter; in short, that the cardinal, while he may need his services, will never allow him to meddle with his affairs. Your highness knows that there is a small legacy for the poor abbé in the will, and I fancy that you will not stoop to contest the payment of it."

"No, surely not!" replied the princess, surprised to find that the bandit was so familiar with the contents of the will; "but it is not the paltry fear that the abbé may obtain more or less money from the cardinal that I have in my mind at this moment, I assure you. I have already told you, captain, and Fra Angelo also must have told you, that his brother and nephew are in great danger so long as Abbé Ninfo is in a position to injure them with my uncle, the cardinal, and the Neapolitan police."

"Ah!" said the crafty Piccinino, putting his hand to his forehead, "I had forgotten that, and yet it is a matter of importance to you, princess, I agree. Indeed I have several things to tell you in that connection which you do not know. But it is a very delicate subject," he said, feigning hesitation, "and it would be difficult for me to explain myself in the presence of the two gentlemen who honor me with their attention."

"You can say anything before the Marquis della Serra and Michelangelo Lavoratori," said the princess, somewhat alarmed.

"No, signora, I know my duty too well to do so, and my respect for you is too great to allow me to forget the proprieties to that point. If your highness is disposed to listen to me without witnesses, I will inform you of what has been planned and determined upon. If not," he added, pretending to be preparing to go, "I will go and wait at Nicolosi until you deign to advise me of the day and hour when it will be agreeable to you to listen to me."

"At once, signor, at once," rejoined the princess hastily. "I am more interested and more alarmed because the lives of my friends are endangered for my sake than by any question of money. Come," she added, rising, and resolutely placing her arm in the bandit's, "we will talk in my flower-garden, and these gentlemen will await us here. Stay, stay, my friends," she said to the marquis and Michel, who would have retired, although the idea of that tête-à-tête caused them both an indefinable dread; "I really need a breath of fresh air, and Signor de Castro-Reale is kind enough to offer me his arm."

Michel and the marquis, as soon as they were alone, looked at each other as if they had had the same thought, and, hastening each to a window, stood where they would not lose sight of the princess for an instant, although they could not overhear a conversation from which she herself seemed content to exclude them.