"But nothing! leave me," said Michel, opening the door impatiently; and leaning on Fra Angelo's arm, he descended the inner staircase from the Casino and resolutely entered the great gallery in his artisan's costume. The princess, dressed in black, was sitting on a sofa at the end of the gallery, surrounded by the Marquis della Serra, Doctor Recuperati, Pier-Angelo, several tried friends of both sexes, and several kinsmen; the faces of the latter wearing a more or less resentful or dismayed expression, despite their efforts to appear touched and fascinated by the romance of her life which she had just told them. Mila was sitting on a cushion at her feet, lovely as ever, with glistening eyes, and pale with surprise and emotion. Other groups were scattered about the gallery. They were the less intimate friends, the more distant relations, and the lawyers whom Agatha had summoned to declare the validity of her marriage and the legitimacy of her son. Still farther away the servants of the house, on active service or retired on pensions, some privileged workmen, the Magnani family among the rest, and lastly, the cream of those _clients_ with whom Sicilian nobles have intimate relations unknown in France, which recall the ancient customs of the Roman patriciate. It will readily be believed that Agatha had not felt called upon to state the cruel reasons which had led her to marry the too famous Prince of Castro-Reale, that gallant and redoubtable brigand, so depraved and yet at times so ingenuous, a sort of converted Don Juan concerning whom more tales were current, tales of crime and of love, fabulous and improbable, than could possibly be true of any one man. To the public avowal of an act of violence which was most offensive to her modesty and her pride, she preferred the implied confession of a passion, romantic beyond reason on her part, but unconstrained and legitimate. To the Marquis della Serra alone had she confided her real story; he alone knew of Agatha's unhappy youth, the cruelty of her parents, the probable murder of the _Destatore_, and the plots against the life of her son while he was in his cradle. The princess allowed the others to infer that her family had not approved of that clandestine marriage, and that her son had necessarily been brought up secretly, to avoid the risk of being disinherited by his mother's relations. Her narrative was brief, simple and concise, and she had borne herself in the telling with a self-assured and tranquil dignity which she owed to the force of her maternal affection. Before she was aware of her son's existence, she would have killed herself rather than allow the tenth part of her secret to be suspected; but, with the determination that her son should be recognized and welcomed, she would have revealed everything if a complete disclosure had been necessary.