The Count looked at the Prince with mingled astonishment and doubt. The Prince said, "As men of our rank are glad to confess their faults, and ask pardon for them, I beg you, sir, to forgive me." The Prince bowed to Monte-Leone, who seemed overcome by emotion.
Taking the Prince's hand he placed it on his heart and said, "Now, sir, feel this palpitation, and tell me whether the heart of a bad or guilty man ever beat thus with joy, at justice being done him."
From this day Monte-Leone enjoyed two of the greatest pleasures of life--a tender love, and a noble friendship....
A month after the first visit of the Prince de Maulear to the house at Neuilly, the following scene took place in a sad room of the _rue Casette_ in the Faubourg St. Germain.
A sick woman lay on a bed, and a stern dark man sat beside her. "I tell you," said she, "I want a priest, and it is cruel for you to refuse me one."
"Bah! Signora, you are not sick enough for that. Why have a confidant in our affairs? Confession is of no use except to the dying!"
"I am very sick," said she, "and my strength every day decreases!"
"Well, let us come to terms, then, Duchess. You shall have a priest--but you do not intend to make your confession only to him, I know."
"Your old ideas again, Stenio!" said La Felina.
"They are not my ideas. Did you not say once when you were very sick, '_No, I will not die until I am completely avenged. I wish to know whence came the shaft which crushed him. I wish him to curse me as I have cursed him!_'"
"True!" said the Duchess, who, as she listened to the Italian, seemed lost in thought. "It is true, I said all that."
"Well, the time is come. You fear you are dying, and would not leave your work incomplete!"
"But if I tell all," said La Felina, "do you fear nothing for yourself?"
"That man is now but a shadow," said Salvatori, "and now in my strong hand I can grasp him, as he once grasped me, with his iron nerves, when he stabbed me. Besides, no one would believe him. _Is he not a spy?_"
The first words of the Italian, "_That man is but a shadow_," had arrested La Felina's attention. She said, "Is he much changed? is he very sick?" She could not restrain her accent.
"He? yes, indeed; he is dying. Public contempt has completely crushed the proud giant. We have effected that. Besides," continued he, "in order to make a suitable return for the touching interest you inspired me with just now, I must tell you I am going. You have made me rich, and if I were so unfortunate as to lose you--Ah, words never kill," added he, as he saw how terrified La Felina was--"I would not remain an hour in this accursed country."