The Abbé Roux attempted to restrain her; but, breaking away from him, Bianca rushed down the steps. The soldiers mechanically made way for her to pass between their ranks; and erect, defiant, she stood between the troops and the excited mob confronting them.
The delegate, like the majority of the officials of Italian bureaucracy, was extremely sensitive in any thing which touched his official dignity or prerogative.
"Signorina," he exclaimed, "you will have the goodness to retire. We are not here to play a comedy. Signor Capitano, order your men to dislodge the mob from the court-yard."
Bianca turned to the officer, her eyes flashing with anger.
"Signore," she said, "your men are not assassins, and you – you will not give that order! The people have come to see me – to speak with me. Who has any right, excepting myself, to turn them away? That priest" – and she pointed with a scornful gesture to the Abbé Roux standing on the steps above – "has lied!"
The officer lowered the point of his sword.
"Signor Delegato," he said, "I protest. My men shall not charge."
"You are here to obey my orders," shouted the delegato, angrily. "I shall report you to headquarters."
"I undertake the responsibility of disobeying your orders," returned the officer, coldly. "My men shall not move. Signorina," he added, "you need not be afraid. As you say, we are not assassins."
A murmur ran through the ranks of the granatieri. Every man's eyes were fixed upon Bianca Acorari.
At this moment Sor Beppe forced his way through the struggling crowd and approached Bianca.
"Excellenza," he said, quickly, "speak to the people. They will do what you tell them – you will see."
In the mean time, neither Silvio nor Don Agostino had seen Bianca's descent into the court-yard, so occupied had they been in reasoning and almost fighting with the leaders of that faction of the peasants which was in favor of trying to force a passage through the cordon of troops in front of the staircase.
In a stentorian voice Fontana shouted out that the Principessina Bianca wished to speak to the people, and Sor Stefano seconded his efforts to obtain silence. Bianca moved slowly forward, until she was within a few paces of her lover and Don Agostino.
"Evviva la nostra principessina! Speak, speak!" shouted those nearest to her.
Bianca smiled. "I have little to say," she said, simply, "but I have heard that things have been done in my name that are unjust things. You have come here to tell my step-mother, the princess, this; is it not so? Well, I shall tell her; and I, Bianca Acorari, promise you that there shall be no increase in the rents, and that a faithful servant of Casa Acorari, who has been dismissed because he would not consent to injustice being done in my step-mother's and my name, shall be – no – is recalled to his post," and she turned to Sor Beppe with a quiet smile.
A dead silence greeted her words. The peasants forgot to cheer her. They could only look at her, open-mouthed and wonder-struck. Don Agostino started forward and gazed at her almost wildly for a moment. Then, staggering back, and placing his hands to his head, he seemed as though he would have fallen to the ground had it not been for Silvio, who supported him in his arms.
"Listen," Bianca continued, tranquilly, "for I do not wish you, the people of Montefiano, to think what is not the truth. My step-mother is not responsible for what has been done, any more than I am responsible. She is good, and she would never have consented to anything which was unjust. But she has been deceived – yes – deceived by that priest in whom she trusted, who summoned the soldiers here, and who, as you have heard, has called upon them to charge you with their bayonets."
An outburst of hisses and groans followed her last words, and once more the crowd made a movement as though to force its way to the staircase. The soldiers closed up, lowering their muskets with fixed bayonets to the charge.
Silvio Rossano and Don Agostino, who by a supreme effort over himself had regained his composure, sprang to Bianca's side. The color mounted to her face as she looked at Silvio, and their eyes met. Then she turned from him to the crowd that was swaying like the swell of the sea before a coming storm.
"No!" she called out, imperatively. "There must be no more violence. You say that you will do what I ask you – that you trust me? Well, I ask you to go quietly to your homes, secure in having my word that the injustices committed by the Abate Roux will be removed."
"She speaks well! Evviva la Principessina Bianca!" shouted the crowd.
"Yes – long live the Principessina Bianca, and long live her betrothed husband, Signor Silvio Rossano! Evviva! Evviva!" cried Sor Beppe.
His words were taken up with an almost frenzied enthusiasm. It was evident that the peasants had been waiting for some allusion to the principessina's own troubles, now that they had obtained their desire and had heard from her lips that she disapproved of what had been done in the princess's and her name. Concetta Fontana's reports had indeed been cleverly circulated, with a view of securing to Bianca the sympathy and support of the people. The women of the paese had poured into the ears of their husbands, brothers, and lovers such stories of the principessina's unhappiness at being forbidden to marry the man she loved, and at the prospect of being sacrificed to the lust of an old man and the dishonest schemes of the Abbé Roux, as had aroused local indignation to the highest pitch. At the same time, Bianca's defence of the princess and her decided refusal to allow her step-mother to be blamed, had only coincided with the sentiments of the large majority of her hearers. Public opinion in Montefiano had long ago exonerated the princess from any other offence than that of being a foreigner who allowed her own compatriots to interfere in the management of her step-daughter's affairs.
The sight of Silvio Rossano standing by their young padrona, who had shown them that she could fearlessly take the part of her people against injustice, was all that had been needed to evoke an unmistakable demonstration that, whatever the princess and her advisers might do, the Montefianesi approved of Bianca's choice.
"Evviva i fidanzati!" rang from all parts of the court-yard, while there were also not wanting premature shouts of "Evviva gli sposi!"
Bianca blushed scarlet. She stood for a moment hesitating and uncertain, almost unnerved by the acclamations of the crowd of peasants whose threatening attitude a few minutes before had only served to kindle her spirit and rouse her courage. Then, shyly, she turned to Silvio.
"Speak to them," she said, pushing him gently forward.
Silvio was about to obey her, when a sudden movement among the soldiers at the foot of the staircase arrested the attention of the crowd. At a word from their officer, the ranks of the granatieri parted, and Princess Montefiano approached her step-daughter. Monsieur d'Antin was by her side, and the Abbé Roux followed immediately behind them.
Bianca rushed up to her step-mother. "Ah," she exclaimed, quickly, in a low voice, "I am glad you have come! See, the people are quite quiet now. There is no more danger. You must not blame me; I was told that nothing would happen if I came and spoke to them, but that if I did not, then they would be more angry than ever, and the troops would charge – and then – " and she shuddered visibly.
The princess looked at her, and apparently was unable to summon her words for a moment or two. That she was not suffering from fear was evident, for she gazed at the crowd of peasants almost indifferently.
"You are angry," said Bianca. "I am sorry; but I did what I thought – what I was told – was for the best. After all," she added, "they are my father's people, and they wanted me. Surely it was better to try to calm them than to allow a fight with the soldiers! Why should you be angry if I have prevented that?"
"Hush, Bianca, hush!" exclaimed Princess Montefiano. "I am not angry. You did right. I would have come before, but Monsieur l'Abbé Roux persuaded me not to show myself, and until five minutes ago I believed you were in your own room. I have seen and heard everything during the last few minutes from the gallery, but I do not quite understand. Now I have come to learn the truth. Monsignor Lelli," she continued, raising her voice so as to be heard by the crowd, which was now dumb from wonder and curiosity, "you came to see me this afternoon, and I was advised not to receive you. Will you now say what you would have said had I not listened to that advice?"
The Abbé Roux started forward, and was about to speak, but Princess Montefiano waved him back.
"No, monsieur," she said, with dignity, "the people shall hear you afterwards. Monsignore," she added, again addressing Don Agostino, "will you have the kindness to explain to me your reasons for wishing to see me this afternoon?"
Don Agostino bowed to her. "My object in asking you to see me, principessa, was to communicate to you personally the requests which would have been made by the deputation you declined to receive. I had, it is true, another and even more pressing object. This was to interest you to prevent the despatch of troops to Montefiano."
The princess did not reply for a moment. Then she said, slowly and emphatically:
"The requests of the deputation which I was advised not to receive, monsignore, have been answered by Donna Bianca Acorari. She has promised that certain acts of injustice which have been committed in my name and in hers shall be remedied, and I shall see that her promise is duly carried into effect."
A murmur of applause interrupted her. Monsieur d'Antin, standing a little apart, watched his sister critically.
"Tiens!" he said to himself, "Jeanne is a capable woman – more capable than I imagined. She can rise to a situation. If she would only think less of the next world and more of this, she would be more capable still."
"As to the despatch of troops to Montefiano," the princess added, "until five minutes ago I was in ignorance that any such step had been taken. The requisition for military intervention was made without consulting me and without my authority."
"Evviva la principessina! Viva l'esercito!" shouted the peasants.
"Signori," Princess Montefiano continued, addressing the delegate and the officer in command of the granatieri, "perhaps you will be so good as to tell me at whose request you are here?"
The delegate of public safety bustled forward, full of the consciousness of his own importance and dignity.
"I am here at the request of the sindaco of Montefiano," he replied, "to enforce order and respect for the law in this commune."
The princess turned from him abruptly.
"Signor Commandante," she said to the military officer, "I thank you for your discretion in refusing to allow the people to be attacked at the bidding of a civilian. My brother has told me of your declining to order your men to charge the crowd. You may be sure that your conduct will be represented in its proper light to the authorities. In the mean time, perhaps you will tell me who summoned you to Montefiano?"
The captain shrugged his shoulders. "Your sindaco, Signora Principessa, telegraphed to the military authorities at Civitacastellana for troops to be despatched at once. An official of the pubblica sicurezza accompanied me, according to the requirements of the law in these circumstances, and the law places me at the Signor Delegate's orders for the time being. Nevertheless, an officer is allowed to use a certain discretion as to carrying out any orders that may in his opinion be inopportune – and I merely exercised that discretion. I may add," he continued, with a glance of admiration at Bianca, "that had it not been for the timely arrival of Donna Bianca Acorari on the scene, and her courage in facing the crowd at a very critical moment, I should probably have been reluctantly compelled to order my men to clear the court-yard. We soldiers do not like that kind of work, Signora Principessa; and both I and my men are grateful to Donna Bianca for having spared us the unpleasant duty of performing it."
Princess Montefiano looked round her.
"Where is the sindaco?" she asked.
A movement took place in the rear of the crowd, and presently the avvocato Ricci advanced into the open space.
"I understand, Signor Sindaco," the princess said, "that the troops are here at your request. With the arrangements of the municipal authorities regarding the town of Montefiano I have nothing to do. But within the castle of Montefiano I am mistress. Why was I not informed that troops had been sent for?"
Monsieur d'Antin rubbed his hands together. "Jeanne is superb," he said to himself, "absolutely superb!"
The sindaco looked petrified with astonishment.
"But," he stammered, "it was after consultation with the Signor Abate that I made the official application for troops to be sent. The abate assured me that he was acting in your eccellenza's name. He declared it to be your wish that troops should at once be despatched to protect the castle."
"Monsieur l'Abbé," said the princess, quietly, "is this true?"
"Madame," replied the Abbé Roux, sullenly, "I have already explained that if I did not inform you of the fact that I had applied for military protection against a possible assault on the castle by the peasants, it was because I did not wish unduly to alarm you and the inmates of the castle. I believed that I had full authority to act as I might think best in this as in other matters."
"You were mistaken, monsieur," the princess returned, coldly. "This matter," she continued, "has been from the beginning misrepresented to me. What proof have I that in other matters, also, I have not been deceived?"
"Your excellency has been deceived all down the line!" shouted a voice from the crowd. "It is I, Stefano Mazza, who say it!"
Princess Montefiano turned to Don Agostino.
"Stefano Mazza?" she repeated, inquiringly.
Sor Stefano came forward.
"Your excellency, perhaps, is not aware that the Abate Roux is the lessee of the rents of the property belonging to Casa Acorari at Montefiano," he said.
The princess started violently, and Monsieur d'Antin drew nearer to where she was standing.
"What does this mean?" she exclaimed.
"It means, madame, that the man is a liar!" cried the abbé, hoarsely.
Sor Stefano laughed. "If her excellency desires it," he said, "I will this evening put positive proofs into her hands that it is as I say. Sicuro! the affittuario of these lands is nominally one Signor Oreste Francavalli; is it not so, eccellenza? But the Signor Oreste Francavalli is a poor devil of a bankrupt mercante di campagna, who has not a lira left in the world, as I know to my cost, and the real holder of the rents is at this moment the Abate Roux. It is not surprising, eccellenza, that the abate should have wished to increase his profits."
XXXIII
Princess Montefiano seemed to be almost stunned by Sor Stefano's assertion. Once or twice she tried to speak, but appeared to be unable to collect her words.
The Abbé Roux turned furiously to Stefano Mazza. "It is a lie!" he exclaimed. "You cannot prove your assertion. What have I to do with this Oreste Francavalli?"
Sor Stefano laughed scornfully.
"Mah!" he returned. "It seems that you have a great deal to do with him, Signor Abate. And I, too, have had a great deal to do with him, as I shall be happy to prove to you from certain documents which I do not carry about with me but which I can produce for her excellency's inspection, should she care to see them. Sicuro! Francavalli is an old acquaintance of mine – an old client, I may say. You are probably unaware, Signor Abate, that I found myself reluctantly obliged to make him a bankrupt. It was naturally, therefore, somewhat of a surprise to me to learn that Signor Francavalli had become the new lessee of the latifondo of Montefiano. A man does not offer himself as affittuario of a large property unless he has some capital at his back – or, if he does do so, his offer is not usually accepted by the administration of that property. It was news to me – interesting news – that Francavalli had capital; for he had certainly not discharged all his liabilities to his creditors, of whom I am not the least important. Do you understand, Signor Abate?"
"It is untrue," the abbé repeated. "Francavalli has never been a bankrupt."
"Ah, no?" returned Stefano Mazza, dryly. "But I tell you that he is a bankrupt – and I will tell you something more, Signor Abate. If Francavalli were the real affittuarioof these lands, then he would be a fraudulent bankrupt, for he would be in possession of capital and of income which would belong to his creditors. But he is not the real lessee of the lands belonging to Casa Acorari."
"And who says that he is not so?" asked the abbé.
Sor Stefano shrugged his shoulders. "He says so himself," he replied. "Or, rather," he added, "I happen to possess a document signed by him, declaring that he is merely the nominal lessee; that in consideration of a sum of money advanced by you, Signor Abate, he allowed you to use his name, but that the real lessee is yourself. Had it not been for Francavalli's readiness to sign the said document, I should have been compelled to proceed against him for fraud. Sicuro! you have been very cautious, Signor Abate, but not quite cautious enough. If you had happened to consult me, I could have told you that in selecting the Signor Oreste Francavalli as your confidant, you had made a bad choice;" and Sor Stefano laughed dryly.
For a moment the Abbé Roux remained silent. He was evidently unable to refute Sor Stefano's words, spoken as they were with the calm conviction of a man who knew that he was in a position to substantiate them. Then he turned to Princess Montefiano.
"Madame," he said, "it is true that, in a sense, I am the purchaser of the right to take the rents of these lands; and also that, as I did not wish to appear as the lessee, I arranged with Francavalli that the affair should be carried out in his name. You are aware, madame, that a larger annual sum is now paid by the lessee than has hitherto been the case, and that the half-yearly payments of this sum have been punctually made. This being so, I do not see that the fact of my being the real lessee instead of Francavalli or another need concern anybody but myself. You, Madame la Princesse, are better off in consequence of my having taken over the lease; and when I told you that a friend of mine was disposed to pay more for the lease of the rents than the lessee whose tenure was just expiring, I only spoke the truth."
Princess Montefiano hesitated, and then turned to her brother with a distressed look on her face. "It is true," she said, in a low voice. "Monsieur l'Abbé advised me not to give the late affittuario a renewal of his term, promising me that he would find a more satisfactory lessee. As he says, we have been better off since the change, and I do not see – "
"Eccellenza," interrupted Sor Stefano, "there is more to say, and with your permission, it had better be said now! The peasants are here not only to obtain justice for themselves, but to support their padrona, the Principessina Bianca – is it not so?" he added, turning towards the crowd.
"Yes – yes! Long live the Principessina Bianca!" resounded from all parts of the court-yard. Princess Montefiano bit her lip.
"What does he mean?" she asked, abruptly, of Don Agostino.
"Evviva la principessina! Evviva! Abbasso gli stranieri! Evviva il fidanzato della principessina!"
The shouts were raised again and again, and among them were others, in which Baron d'Antin was alluded to in terms neither delicate nor complimentary.
The princess flushed with anger.
"Monsignore," she exclaimed, turning again to Don Agostino, "am I to understand that you, the parroco of Montefiano, encourage your people to insult my brother and myself? I insist upon an explanation, but I will not listen to it from peasants – "
"Signora principessa," said Don Agostino, quietly, "you are quite right. Explanations are necessary, but not here – not in the presence of the crowd. Let the Signor Delegato here dismiss the troops, and at a word from you and from Donna Bianca Acorari, the people will disperse quietly. Afterwards," he added, "I shall be entirely at your service to give what explanations I can of the attitude of the peasants."
Princess Montefiano considered for a moment. "So be it, monsignore," she said, at length; and then, turning to the delegate, she added: "Signore, as I observed a few minutes ago, I have no right to interfere with the arrangements of the authorities outside these walls; but inside the castle of Montefiano I am mistress, and I beg of you to order the troops to retire. We, I and my step-daughter, have no need of their protection. We are among our own people."
The officer hesitated and looked at Monsieur d'Antin, who had preserved an imperturbable demeanor of good-humor even during the uncomplimentary epithets cast at him by the crowd – epithets, indeed, that he had scarcely understood so well as did the princess.
"My sister is right, signore," Monsieur d'Antin observed, tranquilly. "If there are explanations to be made, it is scarcely necessary that the whole population of Montefiano, a company of grenadiers and a detachment of infantry should assist at them. That gentleman," he continued, indicating Sor Stefano, "appears to have considerable authority with the peasants. No doubt he will persuade them to leave the castle quietly, now that they have received assurances that their grievances will be removed."
Sor Stefano turned to the crowd. "Her excellency, the princess, has requested the troops to retire," he said, in a loud voice. "Since she and the principessina are here at Montefiano they need no soldiers to protect them. Therefore you will leave the castle quietly and go to your own homes."
"We will go if the principessina and her fidanzato tell us to go!" shouted a voice from among the group of younger men.
Princess Montefiano drew back suddenly, and her face flushed. For a moment she seemed as if about to resent so obvious an affront to her position and authority.
Monsieur d'Antin advanced towards her. "Jeanne," he said, in a low voice, "I think you would be wise to allow Bianca to complete her office of peacemaker. The peasants evidently are ready to listen to her, and to do what she tells them. Is it not so, monsignore?" he added, turning to Don Agostino.
Don Agostino glanced at him with some surprise, and the Abbé Roux's countenance exhibited both astonishment and anger.
"You are quite right, monsieur," Don Agostino replied. "The people will listen to Donna Bianca, and in these cases it is generally prudent to seize every opportunity of bringing matters to a peaceful solution. Moreover," he continued, "if I may presume to say so, the fact of Madame la Princesse putting Donna Bianca forward will have an excellent effect."
Princess Montefiano looked at him quickly. "You mean – " she began, and then she paused, abruptly.
"Madame," Don Agostino said, returning her look and making a slight gesture of apology, "I mean that your encouraging Donna Bianca Acorari to take her rightful position before the people of Montefiano will remove many misunderstandings and stop much idle gossip."
The princess gazed inquiringly at him for a moment, then she turned to Bianca. "Speak to them, figlia mia," she said, quietly.
Bianca shook her head. "No," she replied; "now that you are here, it is for you to speak to them. I came because I knew – "
"You knew what?" interrupted Princess Montefiano.
"Oh, that Monsieur l'Abbé had told you nothing – that you did not even know the soldiers had been sent for."
"La principessina!" shouted the crowd, impatient with a colloquy in a language it could not understand. "Vogliamo sentire la principessina!"
Princess Montefiano took her step-daughter by the hand and led her forward. "Speak to them," she repeated, in Italian; and as she spoke, she drew back, leaving Bianca standing in front of her.
The words and the action accompanying them met with an immediate response from the peasants. "Evviva la principessa!" they cried, and then pressed forward until Bianca was almost surrounded.
"Go," she said, in a quiet, clear voice – "go back to your homes, now you know that neither my step-mother nor I will allow any injustice to be done to our people. Signori," she added, addressing the delegate and the officer in command of the granatieri, "you will order the troops to retire, is it not true? You see well that we are in no danger here at Montefiano."
An outburst of approval drowned the remainder of her words, and with a shrug of the shoulders the civil official turned to the officer in command and bade him give the order to his men to leave the court-yard.
The peasants fell back to allow the troops to pass through their midst, and cheered the captain of the granatieri as he marched through the gateway at the head of his company.
As the last of the soldiers disappeared under the archway, the majority of the peasants prepared tranquilly to follow them. A certain number lingered, however, talking eagerly among themselves, and presently shouts of "Evviva i fidanzati!" were raised, succeeded by cries of "Evviva Rossano!"
Princess Montefiano turned hastily, and a look of astonishment and anger crossed her face.
"You see, madame," said the Abbé Roux, quickly, "the whole affair has another scope than that which you have been made to believe to be the case. There is the true ringleader of the peasants" – and he pointed scornfully to Silvio Rossano, who was urging the remainder of the crowd to leave the castle without making any further demonstration.
The princess did not answer, but she looked intently at Silvio for a moment. Then she turned to her brother. "Philippe," she said, coldly, "you will have the goodness to inform Signor Rossano that his presence here is unwelcome, and that he must leave the castle with – his friends!"
Bianca started forward. "No," she exclaimed, abruptly; "if you send that message, Monsieur d'Antin shall not be the bearer of it! It is an insult, a – "
Princess Montefiano waved her back indignantly. "Have you no shame?" she said, rapidly, beneath her breath.
Monsieur d'Antin smiled. "Bianca is right, Jeanne," he observed. "I prefer not to be the bearer of your message. No doubt Monsieur l'Abbé will undertake to deliver it," and then he laughed gently.
Bianca looked at him for a moment in evident perplexity, and then quickly averted her gaze.
"Wait," she said to her step-mother, earnestly – "wait till you have heard – till you know."
Princess Montefiano gave a gesture of impatience.
"I think you are all mad!" she exclaimed, angrily. "And in this, at least, I will be obeyed. Philippe – "
Don Agostino interrupted her.
"Madame," he said, "let me entreat you not to insist. Donna Bianca is right – it would be an insult. When you have heard all Donna Bianca has to tell you – all that others have to tell you – you will understand better, and perhaps you will form a different opinion. But this is not the place for explanations. It is not necessary to discuss a scandal in public."
"How, monsignore, a scandal!" exclaimed Princess Montefiano, indignantly.
"I repeat it, madame – a scandal," returned Don Agostino, looking at the Abbé Roux and Monsieur d'Antin steadily. "Donna Bianca Acorari and yourself have been the victims of a dishonorable intrigue. Ah, I am not afraid to use the expression, for I can prove my words."
"But you may be mistaken, monsignore– you may be mistaken," observed Monsieur d'Antin, airily, gently rubbing his hands as he spoke.
"If I am so, monsieur, it is for you and the Abbé Roux to prove it," returned Don Agostino, coldly.
"Ah, as to that," Monsieur d'Antin said, composedly, "I can only speak for myself. Monsieur l'Abbé Roux must make his own defence. I am not responsible for his actions."
The abbé's face grew livid.
"What do you mean?" he exclaimed, hoarsely. "Do you mean to say that your honor is less attacked than mine by this disgraced priest?"
"Honor?" repeated Monsieur d'Antin; "honor, Monsieur l'Abbé? Oh, la, la! Monsignor Lelli is right, Jeanne," he continued. "This is not the place for explanations. I would suggest retiring in-doors."
The princess looked from one to the other. "I do not understand," she said, at length, "but if I am to hear of more deceptions – more abuses of my trust and confidence – this is certainly not the moment to discuss them. Come, Bianca! Monsignore," she continued, "you will doubtless explain to me your words in the presence of Monsieur l'Abbé Roux and my brother."
Don Agostino bowed. "I desire nothing better, madame," he said, and then he paused and glanced at Silvio. "I must ask that Signor Rossano may also be present," he added, "since what I and others have to say concerns him nearly, and it is only fair to him and to Donna Bianca that he should hear it."
The princess gave a gesture of dissent.
"No," she replied, "Signor Rossano is a stranger. I cannot admit that he is in any way concerned with my step-daughter's affairs or with my own."
Don Agostino hesitated for a moment. Then he said, quietly: "I cannot press the subject, madame. It is possible, however, that you may change your opinion."
"When I do so, I will send for Signor Rossano," returned Princess Montefiano, obdurately. "Come, Bianca," she repeated, "we will hear what Monsignor Lelli has to say."
The court-yard was by this time nearly empty. Fontana and Sor Stefano, together with a few of the older and more prominent tenants, alone remained. Princess Montefiano turned away, and, accompanied by Bianca, who, now that she had played her part, seemed to be overcome by a nervous shyness, slowly ascended the flight of steps leading up to the portico of the piano nobile. Monsieur d'Antin and the Abbé Roux followed them in silence, but Don Agostino lingered for a moment.