“Let go,” screamed the prince.
“Let go of that knife!” screamed Duco.
The prince refused and hung on to it.
“Let go,” he screamed again.
“Let go of that knife …”
The knife fell from his grasp. Duco grabbed it and stood up.
“Get up!” he said. “If you want we can continue this fight tomorrow in a less primitive way. Not with a knife but with swords or pistols.”
The prince had got up. He was panting, blue in the face … He came to his senses.
“No,” he said slowly. “I don’t want to fight a duel. Unless you do. But I don’t want to. I’m beaten … There’s a demonic force in her, which would always ensure that you won, whatever game we played. We have already duelled. This fight means more to me than an ordinary duel. Only if you wish, then I have no objection. But now I know for sure that you would kill me. She is protecting you …”
“I don’t want a duel,” said Duco.
“Then let us regard this fight as a duel, and let us shake hands …”
Duco put out his hand, and Gilio shook it.
“Forgive me,” he said condescendingly to Cornélie, “I have insulted you …”
“No,” she said. “I won’t forgive you.”
“We must forgive each other. I forgive you your slap.”
“I’m not forgiving you anything. I will never forgive you this evening, not your spying, not your lack of self control, not your rights that you seem to think you can exert over me as an unmarried woman, although I concede you no rights: neither your attack, nor your knife.”
“So we are enemies for ever?”
“Yes, forever. I shall leave your house tomorrow …”
“I acted wrongly,” he admitted humbly. “Forgive me. My blood is hot.”
“Up to now I have known you as a gentleman …”
“I am also an Italian.”
“I won’t forgive you.”
“I have proved to you in the past that I could be a good friend.”
“This is not the moment to remind me.”
“I’m reminding you of everything that might make you better disposed towards me.”
“That is all to no avail.”
“Enemies then?”
“Yes. Let us go in. I shall leave your house tomorrow …”
“I will perform any penance you impose on me.”
“I am not imposing anything on you. I want to end this conversation and I want to go home.”
“I shall lead the way …”
He did so. They walked through the pergola. He opened the terrace gate himself and let them through first.
They went to their rooms in silence.
The castle was asleep and in darkness. The prince lit the way with a match. Duco reached his room first.
“I shall light your way a little further,” said the prince humbly.
He accompanied Cornélie to her door with a second match. There he fell on his knees.
“Forgive me,” he whispered with a catch in his throat.
“No,” she said.
And without further ado she closed the door behind her. He stayed kneeling for a moment. Then he slowly got up. His neck was hurting. His shoulder felt as if he had dislocated it.
“It’s over,” he muttered. “I am beaten. She is stronger than me now, but not because she is a devil. I saw them together … I saw their embrace. She is stronger, he is stronger than I am … because of their happiness … I feel that, because of their happiness, they will always be stronger than me …”
He went to his room, which adjoined Urania’s bedroom. Sobs welled up in his chest. He threw himself, fully clothed, on his bed, swallowing his sobs in the slumbering night, which wrapped the castle in its downy folds. Then he got up, and looked out of the window. He saw the lake. He saw the pergola where they had fought a moment ago. The night was asleep, the caryatids rose gleaming from the shadow. And he tried to pinpoint the place of their fight and his defeat. And thinking superstitiously of their happiness he felt that it would never be possible to fight against it, never. Then he shrugged his shoulders, as if throwing off a burden.
“Non fa niente!” he said, consoling himself. “Domani meglio …”
By that he meant that tomorrow he would win, if not this victory, then another. And with his eyes still wet, he fell asleep like a child.
XL
URANIA SOBBED NERVOUSLY in Cornélie’s arms when Cornélie told the young princess that she was leaving the next day. They were alone with Duco in Urania’s private drawing-room.
“What happened?” she asked, sobbing.
Cornélie told her about the previous evening.
“Urania,” she said seriously, “I know I’m a flirt. I loved talking to Gilio; call it flirting if you like. I have never made a secret of it, either with Duco or with you. I regarded it as amusement and nothing more. Perhaps I was wrong; I have irritated you by it in the past. I promised you never to do it again, but it seems to be stronger than I am. It’s in my nature, and I won’t try to defend myself… I regarded it as something so trifling, a piece of fun and amusement. But perhaps it is bad. Will you forgive me? I’ve grown so fond of you: it would pain me if you did not forgive me …”
“Make it up with Gilio and stay …”
“Impossible, dearest girl. Gilio has insulted me, Gilio drew his knife against Duco, and I shall never forgive him that double insult. So it is impossible to stay any longer.”
“I shall be left so alone!” she sobbed. “I am very fond of you too, of both of you. Is there no way …? Robert is leaving me tomorrow too. I shall be all alone here. What do I have here? No one who loves me …”
“You have a lot, Urania. You have a goal to live for; you can do much good for those around you … You are interested in this castle, which is now yours.”
“It’s all so hollow!” she sobbed. “It gives me nothing. I need sympathy. Who cares for me? I have tried to love Gilio, and I do love him, but he, he cares nothing for me. No one here cares for me …”
“I believe your poor folk care about you. You have a noble cause.”
“I am glad of that, but I’m too young to live just for a cause. I have nothing else. No one cares for me here.”
“What about Prince Ercole …”
“No, he despises me. Shall I tell you something? I told you before that Gilio had told me there were no family jewels, that everything had been sold? Do you remember? Well, there are family jewels. I realised that from something the Countess di Rosavilla said. There are family jewels. But Prince Ercole keeps them in the Banca di Roma. They despise me and I am unworthy to wear them. And with me they act as if there is nothing left. And the worst thing! … is that all their friends, their whole coterie know that they are kept in the bank and they all approve of what Prince Ercole has done. My money is good enough for them, but I’m not good enough for their old jewels, their grandmothers’ jewels!”
“It’s scandalous,” said Cornélie.
“It’s the truth!” she sobbed. “Oh, make it up; stay here with me …”
“Judge for yourself, Urania: we really can’t.”
“It’s true,” she admitted with a sigh.
“It’s all my fault.”