The governor Fabio Conti had turned white with rage at the sight of General Fontana: he had been so slow in obeying the Prince's orders that the Aide-de-Camp, who supposed that the Duchessa was going to occupy the position of reigning mistress, had ended by losing his temper.
The governor reckoned upon making Fabrizio's illness last for two or three days, and "now," he said to himself, "the General, a man from the court, will find that insolent fellow writhing in the agony which is my revenge for his escape."
Fabio Conti, lost in thought, stopped in the guard-room on the ground floor of the Torre Farnese, from which he hastily dismissed the soldiers: he did not wish to have any witnesses of the scene which was about to be played.
Five minutes later he was petrified with astonishment on hearing Fabrizio's voice, on seeing him, alive and alert, giving General Fontana an account of his imprisonment.
He vanished.
Fabrizio shewed himself a perfect "gentleman" in his interview with the Prince.
For one thing, he did not wish to assume the air of a boy who takes fright at nothing.
The Prince asked him kindly how he felt:
"Like a man, Serene Highness, who is dying of hunger, having fortunately neither broken my fast nor dined."
After having had the honour to thank the Prince, he requested permission to visit the Archbishop before surrendering himself at the town prison.
The Prince had turned prodigiously pale, when his boyish head had been penetrated by the idea that this poison was not altogether a chimaera of the Duchessa's imagination.
Absorbed in this cruel thought, he did not at first reply to the request to see the Archbishop which Fabrizio addressed to him; then he felt himself obliged to atone for his distraction by a profusion of graciousness.
"Go out alone, Signore, walk through the streets of my capital unguarded.
About ten or eleven o'clock you will return to prison, where I hope that you will not long remain."
On the morrow of this great day, the most remarkable of his life, the Prince fancied himself a little Napoleon; he had read that that great man had been kindly treated by several of the beauties of his court.
Once established as a Napoleon in love, he remembered that he had been one also under fire.
His heart was still quite enraptured by the firmness of his conduct with the Duchessa.
The consciousness of having done something difficult made him another man altogether for a fortnight; he became susceptible to generous considerations; he had some character.
He began this day by burning the patent of Conte made out in favour of Rassi, which had been lying on his desk for a month.
He degraded General Fabio Conti, and called upon Colonel Lange, his successor, for the truth as to the poison.
Lange, a gallant Polish officer, intimidated the gaolers, and reported that there had been a design to poison Signor del Dongo's breakfast; but too many people would have had to be taken into confidence.
Arrangements to deal with his dinner were more successful; and, but for the arrival of General Fontana, Signor del Dongo was a dead man.
The Prince was dismayed; but, as he was really in love, it was a consolation for him to be able to say to himself:
"It appears that I really did save Signor del Dongo's life, and the Duchessa will never dare fail to keep the word she has given me."
Another idea struck him:
"My business is a great deal more difficult than I thought; everyone is agreed that the Buchessa is a woman of infinite cleverness, here my policy and my heart go together. It would be divine for me if she would consent to be my Prime Minister."
That evening, the Prince was so infuriated by the horrors that he had discovered that he would not take part in the play.
"I should be more than happy," he said to the Buchessa, "if you would reign over my States as you reign over my heart.
To begin with, I am going to tell you how I have spent my day."
He then told her everything, very exactly: the burning of Conte Rassi's patent, the appointment of Lange, his report on the poisoning, and so forth.
"I find that I have very little experience for ruling.
The Conte humiliates me by his jokes. He makes jokes even at the Council; and, in society, he says things the truth of which you are going to disprove; he says that I am a boy whom he leads wherever he chooses.
Though one is a Prince, Signora, one is none the less a man, and these things annoy one.
In order to give an air of improbability to the stories which Signor Mosca may repeat, they have made me summon to the Ministry that dangerous scoundrel Rassi, and now there is that General Conti who believes him to be still so powerful that he dare not admit that it was he or the Raversi who ordered him to destroy your nephew; I have a good mind simply to send General Fabio Conti before the court; the judges will see whether he is guilty of attempted poisoning."
"But, Prince, have you judges?"
"What!" said the Prince in astonishment.
"You have certain learned counsel who walk the streets with a solemn air; apart from that they always give the judgment that will please the dominant party at your court."
While the young Prince, now scandalised, uttered expressions which shewed his candour far more than his sagacity, the Buchessa was saying to herself:
"Does it really suit me to let Conti be disgraced?
No, certainly not; for then his daughter's marriage with that honest simpleton the Marchese Crescenzi becomes impossible."
On this topic there was an endless discussion between the Duchessa and the Prince.
The Prince was dazed with admiration.
In consideration of the marriage of Clelia Conti to the Marchese Crescenzi, but on that express condition, which he laid down in an angry scene with the ex-governor, the Prince pardoned his attempt to poison; but, on the Duchessa's advice, banished him until the date of his daughter's marriage.
The Duchessa imagined that it was no longer love that she felt for Fabrizio, but she was still passionately anxious for the marriage of Clelia Conti to the Marchese; " there lay in that the vague hope that gradually she might see Fabrizio's preoccupation disappear.
The Prince, rapturously happy, wished that same evening publicly to disgrace the Minister Rassi.
The Duchessa said to him with a laugh:
"Do you know a saying of Napoleon?
A man placed in an exalted position, with the eyes of the whole world on him, ought never to allow himself to make violent movements.
But this evening it is too late, let us leave business till to-morrow."
She wished to give herself time to consult the Conte, to whom she repeated very accurately the whole of the evening's conversation, suppressing however the frequent allusions to a promise which was poisoning her life.