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Updated: June 29, 2025
Half an hour before the time appointed he appeared at the Palazzo Trenta. The cavaliere was ready, and they went out into the street together. "If you have not been asleep since the ball, Baldassare which is probable perhaps you can tell me how Nera Boccarini is this morning?" "She is quite well, I understand," answered Adonis, with an air of great mystery, as he smoothed his scented beard.
Baldassare is not a member, but he was admitted to the club by the influence of his patron, the old chamberlain; not without protest, however, with the paternal shop close by. Being there, Baldassare stands his ground in a sullen, silent way. He has much jewelry about him, and wears many showy rings. Trenta says publicly that these rings are false; but Trenta is not at the club to-day.
"For the love of God," ejaculated Trenta, stung to the quick by what he looked upon at that particular moment as in itself an aggravation of his wrongs, "don't remind me of your politics, or I shall instantly leave the room. Domine Dio! it is too much. You had a mission there, too, I believe." This was spoken in as bitter a sneer as the cavaliere's kindly nature permitted. "Now pray be satisfied.
With the mention of his ancestral saint, the cavaliere's thoughts ran on to the Trenta chapel in the church of San Frediano, where they had all stood so lately together, Enrica blooming in health and beauty at his side. His sobs choked his voice. "Shall I send to Lucca for a doctor?" Trenta asked, as soon as he could compose himself. "As you please.
Leading the cotillon last night has turned your head. Take my advice, however an old man's advice stick to your dancing. You understand that. Every man has his forte yours is the ballroom." Baldassare smiled complaisantly at this allusion to the swiftness of his heels. "Out of the ballroom," continued Trenta, eying him with quiet scorn, "I advise caution great caution.
I propose to take her to the church of San Frediano and to show her the ancient fresco representing the discovery of the Holy Countenance; also the Trenta chapel, containing the tombs of my family. I will try to explain to her their names and history. What do you say to this, my child?"
The latter quality recommended him strongly to Trenta. He was always ready to believe every word the cavaliere uttered with unquestioning faith. At the mention of a church legend Count Marescotti turned away with an expression of disgust, and leaned against a pillar, his eyes fixed on Enrica.
Fra Pacifico, his full, broad face perfectly unmoved, and Cavaliere Trenta, who watched the scene nervously with troubled, twinkling eyes, placed themselves on either side of Count Nobili. Ser Giacomo had already slipped round behind the sofa, and seated himself at a table placed against the wall, the marriage-contract spread out before him. There was an awkward pause.
From this roseate dream the poor cavaliere was abruptly roused. His outstretched hand had not been taken by Marescotti. It dropped to his side. Trenta looked up sharply. His countenance suddenly fell; a purple flush covered it from chin to forehead, penetrating even the very roots of his snowy hair. His cane dropped with a loud thud, and rolled away along the uncarpeted floor.
So Adamo went to his dinner in all peace; and Argo and his friends knocked down the flowers, and scratched deep holes in the gravel, barking wildly all the time. The marchesa, sitting in grave confabulation with Cavaliere Trenta, rubbed her white hands as she listened. There was neither portcullis, nor moat, nor drawbridge to her feudal stronghold at Corellia, but there was big, white Argo.
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