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Even old Saracinesca's iron strength was in need of rest when, at the end of forty-eight hours, he again entered his son's rooms, and threw himself upon the great divan. "How is Corona?" was his first question. "She is very anxious about you," returned Giovanni, who was himself considerably disturbed. "We will go and set her mind at rest as soon as I have had something to eat," said his father.
As it was, she had started at the mention of Saracinesca's son. The diplomatist only did what everyone else who came near Corona attempted to do at that time, in endeavouring to ascertain whether she herself entertained any feeling for the man whom the gossips had set down as her most devoted admirer. Poor Duchessa! It was no wonder that she had started at the idea that Giovanni was in trouble.
The information had been necessary to him, for he was beginning seriously to press his suit with Donna Tullia, and he needed to be sure that Giovanni was not a rival to be feared. He had long suspected Saracinesca's devotion to the dark Duchessa, and by constantly putting himself in his way, he had done his best to excite his jealousy and to stimulate his passion.
As Sant' Ilario entered the room, Saracinesca looked up with an expression which showed clearly that the interruption was unwelcome. "Do I disturb you?" asked Giovanni, noticing the look. "Do you want anything?" "No nothing especial." Saracinesca's eye fell upon the pile of manuscripts that lay on the table.
"Quite I was only waiting for you," answered Corona, who longed to be at home and alone. "Let me know the result of old Saracinesca's warlike undertakings," said Astrardente, with a cunning smile on his painted face. "Of course, as he consulted you, he will send you word in the morning."
The churchman came nearer and took it. 'Will you risk the operation on that? he asked. The light of a profound gratitude illuminated the young soldier's tired face, and his fingers pressed Monsignor Saracinesca's spasmodically; but his voice was quiet when he spoke. 'Sister Giovanna 'Yes? The nun looked up suddenly and drew a sharp breath, for her joy was almost agonising.
There were the Rocca, mother and daughter and son a boy of eighteen and a couple of men in the back of the box. Everybody was there, as her husband had said; and as she dropped her glance toward the stalls, she was aware of Giovanni Saracinesca's black eyes looking anxiously up to her. A faint smile crossed her serene face, and almost involuntarily she nodded to him and then looked away.
His perceptions were naturally quick and were sharpened by the peculiarities of his present position, so that he understood Saracinesca's unwillingness to have a hand in the matter almost better than the prince understood it himself. "I trust that I shall not be obliged to ask your help," remarked San Giacinto. "I was, indeed, more anxious for your goodwill than for any more material aid."
Then the agonised words came with a great effort, harshly but ringing from the heart. "And I can give you nothing!" He covered his face and turned away. "Give me your friendship, dear I never had your love," she said. It was long before they talked together again. This is what I know of young Orsino Saracinesca's life up to the present time. Maria Consuelo, Countess Del Ferice, was right.
But, with all his failings, Astrardente was a man of considerable acuteness of moral vision. He had made a shrewd guess at Saracinesca's business, and had further gathered from a remark dropped by his diplomatic friend, that if there was to be a duel at all, it would be fought by Giovanni.
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