This ecclesiastic was engaged in
conversation with the Prime Minister, Count Pievepelago, a small feeble
mannikin covered with gold lace and orders. The deference with which the
latter followed the Dominican's discourse excited Odo's attention; but
it was soon diverted by the approach of a lady who joined herself to the
group with an air of discreet familiarity. Though no longer young, she
was still slender and graceful, and her languid eye and vapourish manner
seemed to Odo to veil an uncommon alertness of perception. The rich
sobriety of her dress, the jewelled rosary about her wrist, and most of
all, perhaps, the murderous sweetness of the smile with which the
Duchess addressed her, told him that here was the Countess Belverde; an
inference which Trescorre confirmed.
"The Countess," said he, "or I should rather say the Marchioness of
Boscofolto, since the Duke has just bestowed on her the fief of that
name, is impatient to make your acquaintance; and since you doubtless
remember the saying of the Marquis de Montesquieu, that to know a ruler
one must know his confessor and his mistress, you will perhaps be glad
to seize both opportunities in one."
The Countess greeted Odo with a flattering deference and at once drew
him into conversation with Pievepelago and the Dominican.
"We are discussing," said she, "the details of Prince Ferrante's
approaching visit to the shrine of our Lady of the Mountain. This shrine
lies about half an hour's ride beyond my villa of Boscofolto, where I
hope to have the honour of receiving their Highnesses on their return
from the pilgrimage.
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