"Did you hear him? The good old abbé simply worships me.--He worships me even too much, for I am not as noble as he has made me out.--He has given Andryana a proof of inalienable affection in consenting to our secret marriage. He is as intelligent as it is possible to be. He knows Navagero to the very marrow and dreaded an unhappy future for Andryana if she did not escape from her brother's clutches. He is also a clever diplomatist, for he persuaded his old companion in _carcere duro_ to lend us his little chapel.--Well, intelligence, diplomacy, friendship, and all the rest are swept on one side in the Italian soul by the law of primogeniture. Did you not hear how, in his quality of Cavour's friend, he made us feel that France was only the youngest scion of the great Latin family?--In this case the youngest has fared better than the eldest! But I pardoned all Don Fortunato's presumption when I thought of the face my brother-in-law will pull, Italian though he is, when he is shown the piece of paper which bears your name beside that of the Prince.--Would you like another proof of Corancez's luck? Look over yonder." He pointed through the window to the sky covered with black clouds and to the street below, at the foot of the palace, where the north wind, sweeping along, made the promenaders huddle up in their cloaks. "You don't understand?" he went on. "Don't you see you cannot sail again while such a sea is on? The ladies will stay at the hotel all night." As he spoke the Provençal smiled with an easy-going, semi-complicity. Happily the newly made vicomtesse drew near and brought the _tête-à-tête_ to an end. She was leaning on Madame de Carlsberg's arm. The two young women, so beautiful, so graceful, so delicate, so enamoured, formed a living commentary as they thus approached the two young men. And the pagan air that one seems to breathe in Italy was so keen, so penetrating, that Pierre's uneasy scruples were soothed by the love he could read in his mistress's brown eyes that were lit up by the same tender fire that shone in the blue eyes of the Venetian when she regarded her husband. "You have come to us from the Prince, I suppose?" asked Corancez. "I know him! You will have no peace until he has shown you his treasures." "Yes, he has been asking for you," said Andryana. "But I came on my own account.--A husband who abandons his wife an hour after marriage is rather hurried." "Yes, it is a little too soon," repeated Ely. And the hidden meaning of the words, addressed as it was in reality to Hautefeuille, was as sweet as a kiss to the young man. "Let us obey the Prince--and the Princess," he said, bearing his mistress's hand to his lips as though in playful gallantry, "and go to the treasure-house. You know all about it, I suppose?" he added, turning to his friend.