The villa of the Duke of Aosta stood in the center of Mogliano, and there were no marks which distinguished it from the surrounding villas, save that the flowers were more carefully cultivated. The Duke’s dogs playfully greeted the visitors. His Highness was expecting us in the broad ante-chamber. He clasped my hand, and we had a long affable talk together. His tall figure, which became slightly bent after Caporetto, has all the majesty of his race; expressing at the same time a certain paternal goodness. His face furrowed by nights of anxiety and watching, expresses the ability and habit of command; his clear, penetrating eyes are accustomed to look fate well in the face. The Duke wished to know in detail all we planned to do. He knew the broad outlines and Colonel Smaniotto and I explained a few details he did not know. He noticed that I had changed the collar of my uniform and I told him the reason which induced me to make the change and the displeasure I felt at not being able to bear upon the other side the colors of my regiment to which I am still devoted. Before we left, he again clasped my hand firmly and with a steady voice in which there was barely a shadow of emotion, said, “I thank you for what you are about to attempt. I am convinced of the usefulness of your enterprise, and I am certain you will help us greatly in those days when the enemy hurls against us all his desperate strength. I thank you as a Prince and as an Italian, and you know I am a good Italian.” I know that his Royal Highness is a good Italian and I felt that in difficult moments, in moments when I should have to dare and risk all, the memory of that dear, austere face, would be a great help and comfort in the fulfillment of my duty. I left the house of the Duke of Aosta, moved not by what I was about to undertake but by what he said to me. There was not much time to lose, yet I dearly wished to give a farewell greeting to Lieutenant Lanza di Camastra who is the uncle of my intimate friend Ignatius Lanza di Trabia. He is very intimate with his Royal Highness, knew of our plans, but since he wished to be present at my departure he begged me to send for him. In the little courtyard of the villa in which he lived I found several officers who offered me a small glass of cognac. I relished it, sipping it to the last delicious drop, certain that on the other side I should find nothing of the kind. I was very pleased to spend a few moments with Lieutenant di Camastra because I wished to speak to him of Ignatius who we hoped was still alive and interned in some distant German camp. The thought of this dear friend had often given me strength to overcome the innumerable difficulties which presented themselves before arriving at this point. With gratitude I listened to the words of di Camastra who assured me that Ignatius would be proud could he see me depart.