Tales of the Wonder Club, Volume II

Tales of the Wonder Club, Volume II Page 3

by M. Y. Halidom

  CHAPTER III.

  THE THREE PAULS.[7]--THE ARTIST'S THIRD STORY.

  During my travels in Italy I happened once to be sojourning for sometime in an obscure and sequestered Italian village high up in theApennines, that chain of mountains which runs through the entirepeninsular like the backbone of some antediluvian monster.

  They are curious places, those Italian villages, with their tall, narrowhouses and small windows, built up the slant of a mountain like steps ofstairs. Their quaint roofs, balconies, arches, and buttresses, with atevery step some rustic shrine containing a rude painting orrepresentation of the Virgin Mary (the Madonna as they call her) orother saint. The narrow, dirty, ill-paved streets, the tumbling-downhouses, from the windows of which the picturesque but dirty inhabitantsmay almost shake hands with one another across the road.

  Then the odd nooks and angles in the by-streets that meet the stranger'seye on either hand as he ascends the uneven and slippery path-wayleading to the highest point of view, which is generally crowned by someruined feudal castle or fort built upon a rock and overgrown with ivy.They have a distinct character of their own, these mountain villages,and are as unlike as possible to anything seen in England. A mere verbaldescription is inadequate to give the faintest idea of their extremepicturesqueness. They require to be seen, and when this is impossible, apicture or sketch must give the next best idea of them to the mind ofthe stranger. I have several studies in oil-colour of these placeswithin my portfolio, which you may look at for a moment if you like.

  There, you see that it is quite unlike anything you ever saw before.Look at those figures in the foreground, how picturesque and yet howsimple their costume is! Well, but to proceed: the village where I wasstaying, when the fact that I am about to relate occurred, was one ofthe sort you see here. Ah! here is a sketch of the very place, and thereis the name of it written underneath. I remember that it had a certaincelebrity in the country round about it, as the cathedral (!) in thechief piazza or square boasted of a miraculous picture of the Madonna,that had the reputation of turning up its eyes, and in this mannercontrived to heal great numbers among the faithful who were blind, deafand dumb, maimed, halt, or lame.

  I cannot say that I ever witnessed one of these miracles, but that mayhave been from my want of faith; yet the tales that I heard ofmiraculous cures from persons of some repute, the arch-priest of theparish amongst the number, were most startling.

  I had taken up my quarters in a comfortable rustic inn, not in the townitself, but on a separate hill in an isolated spot, being built in itsown grounds, fertile with olive trees, which grew up the sides of thehill nearly to the door of the house.

  The inn was frequented almost entirely by artists. Sometimes we were alarge company, composed of all nations, when we would dine together "alfresco" under the shade of the vine which formed a verandah on one sideof the house. At other times I would be left alone in the inn. The hillon which I lived commanded an extensive view of the surroundingmountains, including the township with its old ivy-grown toweroverlooking all, and which appeared as if it were sliding down themountain side.

  I experienced an indescribable feeling of delight in rambling alonethrough this romantic scenery on a hot summer's day, beneath a perfectlycloudless sky, without a breath of wind to rustle the leaves of theshady trees, amidst a solitude like that of the desert, and a silenceunbroken save by the chirping of the birds and the chattering of thecicala, or at intervals, perchance, the distant shepherd's pipe, or thewild barbaric chant of the mountaineer. With what rapture, I remember,would I step from crag to crag, trampling the bush and bramble under myfeet, and startling away the green lizards in my path! Quaffing thebeauties of nature at every step, the dreamy influence of the balmyatmosphere intensifying my feelings for the beautiful to an abnormaldegree.

  It was on one of these sultry days during my rambles that I was takingshelter from the burning sun under the shade of a wide-spreading oak,reclining lazily on the soft moss, and listening to the chirping of thegrass-hoppers, when my ear was attracted by the sound of the bleating ofgoats, and shortly afterwards I heard the voices of two peasants whichseemed familiar to me. They were discoursing together in the dialect oftheir own village, a very different lingo from the pure Tuscan, andperfectly unintelligible to one lately coming from Rome, yet a prolongedstay in these parts rendered it familiar to me. I recognised the voicesas belonging, one of them to a goatherd who supplied me with milk in themorning, the other to a peasant who possessed a vineyard, a small barrelof whose wine I had bought the day before.

  "Ohe! Antonio," cried Guiseppe, the goatherd, to his friend, "so I hearyou have sold a _quarteruolo_ of wine to the Signor Inglese (the Englishgentleman) who lives on the hill."

  "Well, Compar,"[8] said his friend, "and what of that?"

  "I suppose you made him pay well for it, eh?" demanded the goatherd.

  "Well," answered Antonio, "I make my friends pay sixteen pauls the_quarteruolo_, but he, being an Englishman, I charged double."

  "What!" exclaimed the goatherd, "thirty-two pauls for a _quarteruolo_!"

  "Ay, and he paid me money down without haggling about the price, likeone of our '_paini_.'[9] These Englishmen are real gentlemen--they letthemselves be cheated without wincing. Those are the sort of men I liketo deal with. I was quite angry with myself afterwards at not havingasked four times the sum; he would be sure to have paid me."

  "_Accidente!_ what a swindler!" exclaimed Guiseppe. "Well, they tell methese English roll in wealth; that gold is as common in their country asbeans here. They say the streets are paved with it. How I should like togo to those parts, and come back with my pockets filled with the goldthat these idiots throw away like dross. I wouldn't fatigue myself allday long in the mountains for a piece of '_maritozza_'[10] or a dish of'_polenta_.'"[11]

  "Ha! ha!" laughed Antonio, "I've no doubt of it. I should like to see_you_ with money, friend Peppe. You'd make a rare use of it."

  "_Per Bacco!_ wouldn't I?" answered the goatherd; "you wouldn't catch mesober again until the day of my death. If I could sell my milk to theEnglishman at the rate you sell your wine, I'd soon make my fortune."

  "Well," said Antonio, "I would try it on if I were you. Perhaps milkisn't to be had in his country."

  "Perhaps not," said the goatherd, musingly. "It must be a curiouscountry from all accounts. They tell me they never see the sun from oneyear's end to the other, and, indeed, how can they, when the sun is hereall day? I hear, too, that the fog is so thick that you are obliged tocut it through with a knife as you go along the streets, and that theinhabitants are obliged to burn lamps all day long."

  "Yes, I have heard so, too," answered Antonio, "and that they have nowine in their country. Well, upon the whole, I'd sooner live where Iam."

  "Ah, but the gold that is to be found about the streets," said Guiseppe,"you forget that."

  "What would be the good of all the gold, if there is no wine to buy withit?" replied Antonio. "I am very well content to live by the sale of mywine----"

  "At the rate you sell it to Englishmen, I've no doubt," broke in Peppe,with a laugh.

  "Well, my friend, of course we all try to get what we can, where we can,and how we can," pleaded Antonio. "That's only business. I'd be a foolif I didn't."

  "Well, Compar, I suppose we are all much alike in that; but don't youthink that after having cheated the Englishman out of all that money,you could lend me three pauls?"[12]

  "Ah, Peppe, you rascal, I thought that was coming," laughed Antonio."What! lend _you_ three pauls! Why, when do you think you would be ableto pay me?"

  "Well, I make two pauls a day by the sale of my milk and go halves withmy _padrone_.[13] That is a paul a day for us apiece. In three days,therefore, I shall be able to pay you the entire sum. If I can manage togull the Englishman, I may pay you sooner," responded the goatherd.

  "Ah! Peppe," said Antonio, "I know you to be a slippery customer. How amI to be sure you will pay me within that time?"

 
"I give you my word of honour," cried Peppe.

  "Ho! ho! what is that worth?" laughed his friend.

  "May I die of an accident, if I don't! May the earth open and swallow meup! May the Madonna cause my mouth to fall off if I fail in my word.May----"

  "There; that is enough," interrupted his friend. "Here are the threepauls. Take them, and if you fail to pay me back in three days'time--not one hour later, may all the curses that you have invoked uponyourself be fulfilled."

  This was all I overheard of the dialogue. Shortly after this they musthave separated, as I heard soon the voice of the goatherd in thedistance, chanting in that wild strain, with a prolonged dwelling on thelast note peculiar to the peasantry in the Italian mountains.

  It was past midday when I rose from my mossy couch and saunteredleisurely home, where, having partaken of a light lunch, I continuedworking upon my picture--a large landscape--until sundown. I was at thattime the only guest at the inn, and I have no doubt that mine host andhis family made as much out of me as they could in one way or another,yet they were as honest as the people in those parts mostly are, andwhen not occupied with writing home I was in the habit of joining thefamily circle after supper, when they entertained me with the gossip ofthe village and stories of brigands, by whom the country was muchinfested, while I, in return for their information, related to them manythings about my own country, my travels, etc. The conversation that Ihad overheard that morning, however, between the goatherd and his friendI deemed not of sufficient importance to relate to the family; in fact,I had forgotten all about it before I reached the inn.

  The unscrupulous manner in which people cheated among these simpleseeming peasantry rather amused than annoyed me. And as for the simpleincident of one peasant borrowing three pauls from another, it was afact so uninteresting to me, that I never gave the matter a secondthought.

  Little did I imagine that the transaction of the three pauls that I bychance overheard that morning was to be the commencement of one of thedrollest waggeries that ever came within my experience.

  It was more than a week after the incident that I have related occurredthat I left my inn one morning to paint out of doors at the distance ofa mile or so. As I journeyed along the road, laden with my paintingmaterials, I came in sight of the goatherd's hut, built upon a hill, andthough it was yet distant, I descried a figure in the act of leaving thehut, but which I could distinctly see was not the goatherd.

  The figure had descended the hill, reached the road, and was then makingtowards me. I had now no difficulty in recognising my friend of whom Ihad bought the wine. He appeared to be anything but in good spirits, forhe advanced scratching his head and with his eyes fixed on the ground.

  This was our first meeting since our transaction of the barrel of wine,and had I been in a less good humour I might have taxed him withswindling me in good round terms, but with the fresh morning air in myface and the enchanting landscape around me, I felt in no humour toquarrel with anyone. I thought, however, I would make him aware that Iknew how he had served me without losing my temper.

  "_Buon giorno, Antonio_,"--(Good-day, Anthony)--I said, cheerfully.

  "_Ah! Eccellenza; buon giorno_," replied he, with a sickly attempt at asmile.

  "You seem a little out of spirits, eh?" said I. "Now, what would you sayif I could read your thoughts?"

  "You read my thoughts, Eccellenza! You joke with me."

  "No," replied I; "without joking I will tell you what is passing in yourmind. You have just come from the house of Guiseppe the goatherd, andyou are disappointed because he has not paid you the three pauls that hepromised to pay you after three days. Am I right?"

  "_Per Bacco!_" exclaimed Antonio. "Surely your Excellency is a saint,and it has been revealed to you. How else could you have known that?"

  "Does that surprise you," said I. "What would you say if I could tellyou more? If I could tell you the day and the hour that you lent thethree pauls to your friend? What would you say if I told you it was lastTuesday week in the forenoon, and how you first hesitated to lend themoney, having some doubt as to your friend's integrity, but how, afterhaving invoked certain curses on his own head in default of his notbeing able to pay, you at length yielded, and lent him the three pauls?"

  "_Diavolo!_ Eccellenza must be a saint indeed to know all that," criedthe peasant, dumbfounded.

  "Would you like to know more?" I asked. "At the expiration of the threedays you have been regularly every morning to the house of the goatherd,expecting to receive the three pauls, and each time he has sent youaway with a different excuse."

  "_O anime sante mie del Purgatorio!_"[14] exclaimed the peasant,crossing himself devoutly. "Either your Excellency is a saint, or youhave the demon within you."

  "Ha! say you so?" said I. "I will even venture to prophecy that you willnever get the three pauls."

  "Oh, pray don't say that, Signor. Pray don't say that I shall _never_ bepaid. Why should your Excellency think so?" asked the peasant, dismally.

  "Why! do you ask? Because the saints love you not," said I.

  "How, Signor? Was that also revealed to you? Why should they not loveme? How have I merited their wrath?" he asked, whiningly.

  "By charging me twice the sum you charge other people for that_quarteruolo_ of wine, and for repenting afterwards that you had notasked me four times the sum, as, being an Englishman, you thought to getit out of me."

  "_Corpo di San Antonio di Padova!_"[15] cried the peasant, casting uphis eyes. "Is nothing to be hid from you? Well, Eccellenza, what servesit to deny the truth, since you know everything? I am a poor man, andwhen an opportunity occurs for bettering myself, I am apt to do whatmost men do who know what want is."

  "Well, my friend," said I "you will find through life that 'honesty isthe best policy,' and that 'cheats never prosper,' at least, for long.For when the cheat is discovered, his reputation is lost for ever, whilethe honest man who sticks steadily to his labour, and puts aside hisscanty earnings, not wasting them in drinking or gambling, in the end isblessed by the saints who give him fortune."

  "That is most true," replied the peasant. "Eccellenza has spoken likethe preacher," and seizing my hand, he kissed it, and was about toproceed on his journey.

  "Stay," said I. "Would you like to earn two pauls?"

  "Willingly, Eccellenza; but how?" he asked.

  "Help me to carry these traps to my camping place, and carry them backagain when I return this evening," said I.

  Without further parley he relieved me of my burden, and we both trudgedon together.

  At first we walked on in silence, but after the first half-mile, torelieve the monotony of the walk, I began to question my companion as tothe reception his friend Guiseppe had given him and the excuses he hadmade for not being able to pay his debt.

  "Well, Eccellenza," he began, "you, who know everything, are well awarethat I called at Peppe's house at the time appointed for the payment ofthe debt, and that not being able to pay me, he excused himself bysaying that the goats had given so little milk, that he could not fulfilhis promise as he expected, but he promised faithfully to repay me onthe morrow. I called the next day, when he begged me to be patient withhim, as he had lost the money through a hole in his pocket. I wasannoyed at this, but called again on the morrow, hoping at least to geta portion of the money back; but no such luck. This time he pleaded thathis wife had been suddenly seized with the fever, and begged me not tobe too hard upon him.

  "'Then take care that she is better to-morrow,' said I, 'for I want mymoney.'

  "The next day (that was yesterday) I called again, and his wife informedme that her husband had caught the fever, and was dangerously ill. Shehoped, however, that it would soon pass over, and he would be able topay me as he had promised. I went again this morning to Peppe's house asusual for the money, when his wife came out to me with tears in hereyes, to inform me that her husband died last night. I began to losepatience, and said that, dead or alive, I meant to have my three paulsback; and off I
went, cursing and swearing. It was then that yourExcellency met me."

  As Antonio finished speaking we had already arrived at our campingplace, and I commenced arranging my painting materials. The latter partof Antonio's narrative immensely amused me, as I had both seen andspoken to Peppe that morning early when he brought the milk as usual tothe door of the inn, and he never looked in better health in his life.I remember upbraiding him for putting water in the milk, and telling himnot to try on his tricks with me, as Englishmen knew what good milk was,adding that if I caught him at it again, I should change my goatherd. Isuppose something like a smile must have passed over my countenance atthe idea of Peppe pretending to be dead, in order to get off payingthree pauls, for Antonio, eyeing me narrowly, said,

  "What say you, Eccellenza? You know everything. Tell me if Peppe isreally dead, or whether this is also a pretence."

  I put on a wise look, and said, looking him full in the face, "I knowhim to be alive."

  "Ha! say you so, Eccellenza?" cried Antonio, starting up from his seaton the ground. "Then _per Crispo_![16] I'll murder him when I catchhim."

  "There is no occasion to do that, my friend," said I. "You will not getyour three pauls back the sooner if he hasn't the money."

  "I'll go to his house again, though, if your Excellency can dispensewith my services for the present," said Antonio, "in the hopes ofcatching him; though, if he is alive, he will be away in the mountains,feeding his goats; but no matter, I'll enter the house and see formyself if the bed is empty or no."

  "Go then," said I, "and return in an hour to let me know the result ofyour visit."

  Off started Antonio, as fleetly as the wind, and before I could havethought it possible, returned without appearing out of breath.

  "Well?" said I, working steadily on my picture without looking up.

  "Well, Eccellenza," he began, "I went straight to the house, and triedthe door, but it was locked, and there was no one within. I peepedthrough the window, but could not catch a glimpse of the bed. Idescended the hill in a rage, when at some little distance, I sawPeppe's wife. I ran to her and told her that I wanted to speak to herhusband, as I had found out that he was living. She persisted in sayingthat it was false, and that her husband lay dead in his bed."

  "'Then let me see the corpse,' said I.

  "She replied that she was not going to fatigue herself to mount the hillagain to show me the corpse. That if I didn't choose to believe her, Ineedn't.

  "'Give me the key of the house, then,' said I, 'that I may go in andsatisfy myself.'

  "She replied that she never trusted anyone with the key of her house,and turned away.

  "I then lost my temper, and told her that both she and her husband werea couple of swindlers, who had schemed to defraud me of my money. Thenshe burst into tears again, and said that if I really wished to beconvinced that her husband was dead, I might go to the church myselfthis evening, where the corpse of her husband would be lying instate,[17] and that I might hide myself in one of the confessionals, andwatch all night to see if he moved at all, and that if he stirred everso little, never to believe her again.

  "Now, you see, Eccellenza, how artful women are. She hopes in that wayto intimidate me and to make me believe that her husband is dead in realearnest. She fancies that I would be frightened to spend a whole nightinside the church with a corpse, and that I won't go. If, then, I shouldcall at her house to-morrow she would be sure to tell me that herhusband was already buried. I do not for a moment believe that herhusband will be exposed in the church all night, feigning to be dead;but, just to give her the lie, I am determined to do just as she says,and hide myself in one of the confessionals, that I may be able to tellher that I passed the night in the church, and there was no corpse to beseen."

  "Do so, my friend," said I. "I am most curious to hear how this affairends."

  As we were discoursing together Antonio suddenly broke short hisdiscourse.

  "Hark, Signor!" he cried. "Do you hear? Those are death-bells that aretolling in the village. Can someone really have died, or has Peppe'swife set them tolling to impose upon me all the more? What say you,Signor? Would she carry out the joke as far as all that?"

  "There is nothing like doing a thing well," I answered, evasively.

  "I shall be able to find out from the sacristan for whom he has beentolling the bell this morning," said Antonio, "and if that knave of aPeppe is not dead yet, may I die of an accident if I don't worry him tothe death. You must know, Eccellenza, that three pauls to us poor devilsis a consideration, unimportant though the sum may be _alla vostraSignoria_.[18] What a conscience the man must have to try and swindle meout of what I lent him in friendship, after swearing to me on his wordof honour and invoking all sorts of curses on his own head if he failedto pay me on the day he promised! Had not your Excellency positivelyassured me that he still lives, I should be inclined to think that hehad died in real earnest, as a punishment for his broken faith."

  I was amused at the word "conscience" from the lips of a man likeAntonio, and the old fable of "the pot calling the kettle black" flashedacross my mind. We are wonderfully alive to the weak points of others'consciences where our own interests are concerned, but are too oftenwanting in equal rigour over ourselves. How true is that parable inScripture of the mote and the beam!

  In order to proceed with my narrative, I must pass on to the followingday. Feeling slightly indisposed from a fever on waking thatmorning--nothing serious, but just enough to prevent me from paintingout-of-doors, as I had intended--I kept my bed later than usual, andcalled to my landlady to bring me a basin of broth.

  As she entered my bedchamber with the steaming fluid, I noticed by theanimated expression of her face that she had news of unusual importanceto communicate to me.

  "Oh, Signor!" she exclaimed, as she hastened to place the broth on atable beside me, "what do you think has happened in the village? Amiracle! a miracle! nothing short of a miracle, blessed be the Madonna._Si Signor_," she added, in answer to a smile that she observed on mycountenance, "one of the most wonderful miracles that ever our blessedVirgin has deigned to vouchsafe to us, her unworthy servants. Blessed beher holy name for all eternity!"

  "Well," said I, calmly sipping my broth, "another miracle! let's hearit."

  "Ah! Signor, you do not believe in miracles," said the hostess; "but howwill you deny _this_? Just hear. You may not have heard, perhaps, thatpoor Peppe the goatherd died suddenly of a fever, and was laid out inthe church, where he remained all last night. Some robber, towards themorning, broke into the church, and would have robbed the alms-box. Hehad succeeded in unscrewing it from the wall and bursting it open--atleast, I presume so, for how else could he have got to the money?--andwas seated on the ground, counting his gains--a most incredible amount,chiefly consisting of gold. I am sure I don't know where it all camefrom, for only yesterday when I put in a _baiocco_[19] myself, the soundit made showed me that it was all but empty. Well, as I was saying, hewas counting his gains by the light of the candle, placed at the head ofthe corpse, when our blessed lady caused life to return to the defunct,who, leaping up suddenly from his bier, seized the robber by the throat,and called aloud for help. Our honest Peppe held the sacrilegiousmiscreant as in a vice until the sacristan entered the church to lightthe candles. You may imagine, Signor, the dismay of the sacristan atseeing the corpse that had been laid out in the church all the previousevening, now resuscitated, and holding in his grasp the wretch who hadattempted to defraud the church of the alms that pious souls had givento support her.

  "The worthy sacristan had not recovered from his surprise when thepeople began to pour in by twos and threes to hear mass, all of themstarting and falling back in horror at the spectacle before them.

  "'A miracle! a miracle!' cried the sacristan, at length. 'Behold theVirgin has been merciful to us. Blessed be the name of the Madonna!'

  "At that instant the arch-priest himself entered, attired in his robes.

  "'What is this?' he cried, in
astonishment, retreating several steps.'Holy saints! was not this the corpse laid out in the church lastevening?'

  "Here the sacristan broke in.

  "'A miracle, Signor _Arciprete_, a miracle! a most undeniable miracle. Icaught this robber this morning attempting to rob the alms-box, when lo!it pleased the Madonna to give back life to the dead in order to saveher holy church from being violated by sacrilegious hands.'

  "The good Peppe, still holding fast the robber, informed the arch-priestand the congregation that every word the sacristan had spoken was true;that he had been dead, but had been miraculously called back to lifeagain by the grace of our blessed Lady in order to secure the thief.

  "'You lie! you lie! You know you lie!' gasped out the burglar, as hetried to free himself from the iron grasp of the resuscitated corpse.'Impostor! knave! swindler,' he called out, nearly suffocated by thefirm grip of Peppe.

  "But his words were lost in the sensation caused by the crowd, whopermitted no explanation on the part of the criminal. The guard havingnow arrived, he was walked off to prison amid the execrations of thecrowd. The arch-priest, who, through all this scene had remainedstupefied for a time, as well he might, at length broke silence.

  "'There is some mystery that I am as yet unable to comprehend. I aminformed by the sacristan that he discovered the burglar in the act ofrobbing the alms-box of the church, and the money on the ground that youall see, he avers to have been taken out of the alms-box. Now, in orderto extract the money from the alms-box the thief must previously havebroken it open, yet I see no marks of violence on the box of any kind.

  "'Then there is another thing worthy of notice. The alms-box was emptiedonly last week, in order to distribute its contents amongst the poor.How comes it now, then, there appears such a large quantity of money,which, you see, consists chiefly of gold and silver, besides papermoney; and that diamond ring I see, whence is that? I think it will befound that the heap of money on the ground will be too large a sum toenter into the box. If it cannot enter, how could it have come out ofit?'

  "'All the greater miracle,' cried the sacristan, devoutly.

  "'True, true,' cried the people. 'A double miracle! Great is the powerof the Madonna.'

  "'Well, well, my people,' said the arch-priest, 'I own that I am puzzledbeyond measure; nevertheless, as it has pleased our gracious Lady to letus find this goodly sum here in the middle of the church, it is clearthat she has but one intention--namely, that the sum should bedistributed for the glory of her name. Therefore, let the treasure bereplaced in the alms-box for the enlargement and decoration of thechurch.'

  "This decision of their pastor was approved of by the pious flock, andthe sacristan hastened to fill the box with as much of the treasure asit was capable of containing, while still a large portion remained over.This, together with the diamond ring, the arch-priest took possessionof, declaring that the whole sum should be used for the enlarging andfitting up of his church."

  Having concluded her narrative, my worthy hostess perceived somethinglike a smile of incredulity on my countenance, which seemed rather toirritate her. However, I comforted her by saying that I wouldinvestigate the matter myself, and if, after a careful and strictinquiry, I could not account for the whole matter by natural causes, Iwould then become as much a believer in the miracle as she was herself.

  This seemed to pacify her, and she encouraged me in seeking everypossible means to disprove it. Accordingly, in an hour's time I was upand dressed, and bending my steps towards the township. Part of thiscurious tale I had already accounted for in my own mind. That Peppe hadnot been dead, but had feigned to be so, that I knew. The supposedrobber I concluded must be Antonio. I supposed that the latter, havingdiscovered at length the imposition practised upon him by his companion,a quarrel had ensued, in the midst of which they had been surprised bythe sacristan; but I could guess no more than this.

  The affair of the treasure being found in the church completely puzzledme, and my curiosity being aroused, I set straight off to the house ofthe arch-priest, whom I knew intimately, to hear either the confirmationor confutation of my hostess's statement.

  On passing the church in the chief piazza or square of this little town,I met the sacristan, whom, having been an eye-witness to the whole, Istopped and inquired as to the truth of the rumour that had spread soquickly throughout the village. He put on a sanctified look, crossed hishands upon his breast, and rolled up the white of his eyes, solemnlydeclaring that every word I had heard was true, that he himself had beenan eye-witness to the whole affair from first to last.

  Then, after recounting to me the whole proceedings in a long rigmarole,he wound up by calling on all the saints to open the ground under hisfeet to swallow him up, if what he spoke was not the truth. He then tookhis leave.

  Now, I never did like the appearance of this sacristan. He was a youngman, sallow and emaciated, with an extremely repulsive countenance andan expression of low cunning and avarice, which he sought to hide underan affectation of sanctity and cringing humility. He seemed unable tolook you full in the face, though I often caught him observing me out ofthe corners of his half-closed eyes.

  He would have been the last man in the world whose word I should havetaken for gospel, and there was something in the manner in which he toldhis story that impressed me with the idea, that whatever mystery theremight be connected with the discovered treasure, that _he_, in some wayor another, was interested in the affair being regarded as a miracle. Itherefore attached very slight importance to his testimony. In fact, Imerely addressed him in the hopes of discovering some discrepancy in myhostess's narrative, being aware how much a story gains in telling; but,to my surprise, I found the two accounts remarkably consistent. A stepor two further took me to the house of the arch-priest, which, beingopen, I entered, and was welcomed on the landing by that worthy.

  "Ah! Signor Vandyke," he said--you are always called by your Christianname in Italy--"it is long since I've had the pleasure of seeing you.You do not often honour our humble township with your presence. You havebeen hard at work as usual, I suppose, eh?"

  I replied that I had given myself a holiday for once in a way, notfeeling in a humour for work, and had called upon him for the purpose ofinquiring into the truth of a reported miracle in the village. Hereuponhe beckoned me upstairs, made me sit down at a table, and pouring outfor me a tumbler of his own wine from a huge jug, he proceeded to fillanother for himself; then tapping his snuff-box, a priest's inseparablecompanion, and taking from it a copious pinch wherewith to clear hisbrain, this dignitary recited to me the whole story of the miracle,differing in little or nothing from the other accounts that I had heardof it. Knowing him to be a thoroughly trustworthy and conscientiousman, I felt sure that he would not willingly deceive me; but fancying hemight in some way or other have been deceived himself, I proceeded tocross-question him, though I could not find that he contradicted himselfin anything.

  When I asked if he could vouch for the occurrence being a miracle, hereplied:

  "I can only vouch for what I saw. The resuscitated corpse was holdingthe accused in his grasp, while I had the sacristan's word that thecorpse had suddenly become re-animated under his very eyes, and hadseized the burglar after he had succeeded in extracting the money fromthe alms-box. I must confess I am puzzled at the whole of that sumhaving been extracted from the coffer, when, with the greatest pains thesacristan could not replace more than half of it. I have the rest here,as you see, and with it a handsome diamond ring. That is the wonderfulpart, for who wears diamonds in these mountains?"

  I was now perfectly sure of one thing namely, that the treasure hadnever been extracted from the alms-box at all, but had been found insome other manner. The testimony of the sacristan, as I have saidbefore, weighed little or nothing with me. So far from it, indeed, thatI began to see more clearly than ever that there had been some trick orimposture, at the bottom of which was the sacristan himself.

  I did not give the arch-priest the result of my reflections
, butrestrained myself until I should obtain further evidence. We haddiscoursed for full a couple of hours on the subject, and when I rose todepart I told him that I was as complete a sceptic as before, as far asthe miraculous character of the event was concerned, though I placedevery reliance in his statement. I said I was perfectly sure ofunveiling the mystery before long, and when I had done so I should atonce let him know.

  "And the delinquent," asked I, with my hand on the doorhandle, "where ishe?"

  "Locked up, to be sure; ready to be taken to-morrow to Gennazzano, thereto await his trial."

  "Could I exchange a word with him?"

  "If you wish. I shall have to give you a line to the guard, in order toadmit you. Just one moment,--here--with this pass they will let youenter."

  "Thank you very much. Till we meet again--_Addio_."

  It was now growing towards evening as I hastened my steps towards thelock-up house, where I delivered the arch-priest's note to the guard,who immediately gave orders to the turnkey to admit me. On entering thecell I found Antonio, as I had expected, pacing up and down dejectedly.

  "Well, Antonio," said I, "I have come to have a chat with you and tohear all about the miracle that happened this morning."

  "Ah! Signor, is it you?" cried he. "Now, was there ever an unluckiermortal on earth than I?"

  "Nonsense," said I, "about being unlucky. I have come to comfort you inyour trouble and to hear all about the miracle."

  "Miracle! The devil a miracle," exclaimed Antonio. "They've miracled mewithin four walls, who am innocent as the babe unborn, whilst they havelet go two of the greatest rascals in the village. It will be a miracleif I escape incarceration for life when I take my trial at Gennazzano."

  "Come," said I, consolingly, "you must not look so gloomily at things. Iwill do what I can to get you off, but you must tell me exactly how thewhole affair happened."

  "Ah! that I will, Signor, and with pleasure," said he.

  Walking me up and down his narrow cell, the turnkey waiting at the doorwith his bunch of keys the while, he began his story thus:--

  "You will remember, Eccellenza, that before parting from you last, Iinformed you of my intention of concealing myself within theconfessional of the church and to remain there all night, for thepurpose of observing attentively if the would-be corpse of Peppe therelaid out should make any movement or betray the slightest signs of life.

  "At a late hour, therefore, when all was dark--that is to say, aboutthree hours after Ave Maria--I entered the church, and there was my latefriend attired as a corpse with a candle left burning at his head, as isthe custom, you know, Signor, in these parts. I approached him, thoughnot without a certain tremor, for to me there has always been somethingsolemn and awful in being left alone with the dead, especially atmidnight when the corpse is laid out in state in the middle of thechurch, with nothing but the feeble light of one candle to illumine itsghastly features.

  "Nor did this feeling at all abate when I reflected, that in allprobability the supposed corpse was not really dead, but only feigningto be so. If anything, I felt more terrified. However, I advancedsteadily, and gazed full in the face of it. It was very pale, andperfectly motionless, and I began to think that this must be death, andthat your Excellency had been mistaken in being so positive that myfriend was yet alive.

  "I fancied that perhaps you had seen his spirit and had mistaken it forhimself in the flesh. I forebore to touch the corpse from that samefeeling of awe that I have just described, and though at the time I wasperfectly satisfied that he was really dead, yet I still resolved to situp all night, concealed within the confessional, so as to be able totell your Excellency on the morrow that I had fulfilled my promise.

  "I accordingly shut myself in, and gazed steadfastly at the features ofthe corpse, never taking my eyes off all the time, in order to assuremyself beyond a doubt whether this were really death or merely itscounterfeit. I gazed long and intently, but in vain did I endeavour todiscover the slightest breathing or other signs of life. Whether thedim light of one candle prevented me from seeing sufficiently well, Iknow not.

  "All was silent as the tomb, and as I gazed in breathless suspense, hourafter hour flew by, till at length I heard the old church clock tollforth the dread hour of midnight. The last stroke had hardly diedaway--How shall I describe to you my terror, oh, Signor?--when suddenlyI heard the church doors violently shaken. You know how nervous onebecomes in the dead of the night at hearing any sort of noiseunexpectedly that one cannot account for. Imagine, then, my sensations,Eccellenza, if you can, when, hidden within the confessional at thiswitching hour of night, with every nerve on the stretch, and looking outinto the solemn gloom of the church, illumined only by the solitarycandle placed at the head of the corpse--when all honest peasants, withtheir families, were in bed and fast asleep, and the greatest silencereigned everywhere, suddenly to hear a bang and a crash at the oldchurch doors, which soon gave way--you know how rotten they are,Signor--and there entered, cursing and swearing, a troop of--well, uponmy soul, Signor, I took them to be emissaries of the arch-fiend, sent tosecure the soul of the defunct.

  "However, after having attentively examined their forms, which werehardly less wild than those of the foul fiends themselves, if allaccounts of them be true, I satisfied myself that they were, after all,human--men of flesh and blood like ourselves. Signor, they were thebrigands.

  "I should say there were about a dozen of them, for I did not think ofcounting them, so great was my fright. They rushed helter-skelter intothe church, and without as much as glancing at the corpse, seized thecandle that stood burning near its head, and, striding towards the altarplaced the candle thereon and proceeded to count their ungodly gains. Itrembled in every limb; a cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and Ifelt my hair stand up, while my teeth chattered in my head.

  "What would happen next? Would the Madonna send a thunderbolt to destroythese sacrilegious wretches, and perhaps myself at the same time? Iquite expected something of the sort. I am sure it is quite a wonderthat my hair hasn't turned white from the terrors I underwent lastevening.

  "Well, Eccellenza, I presume these ruffians, after having laid wait forthe mail on the high road and robbed a number of poor gentlemen of allthey had about them, had made off with their ill-gotten treasure in thedead of the night, and, passing through the village on their way,descried the glimmer of the candle through the chinks of the churchdoor, and thought they would take this opportunity of dividing theirspoil.

  "The treasure was a goodly heap, consisting of gold, silver, and papermoney, besides a few gold watches, which they all drew lots for, and amagnificent diamond ring, which the brigand chief claimed for himself.

  "'Now, my men,' said he after an equal portion had been allotted toeach, 'I think every man in my band has had a fair share of the booty.This ring alone I claim the right of disposing of as head of the band,seeing that it cannot be divided; yet, to show you all in what highestimation I hold fair play, and how loath I am to possess even a_baiocco_ more than my valiant companions without deserving it, I willaward this ring to the man who shall first succeed in hitting yon corpseon the nose with it, I myself taking share in the pastime, and ascaptain of the band claiming for myself the first shot.'

  "Enthusiastic cheers greeted this decision of their chief, and the gamebegan. The captain had the first throw, but missed. Then a second pickedup the ring and also threw, but missed likewise. Then a third, with thesame result, and so on, till the seventh, who, more dextrous than therest, hit the corpse such a stinging whack on the nose that it suddenlyjumped up, shook its head, extended its arms, and leaped down from thebier.

  "You see, the rascal had been shamming, after all, sir, and, wearied outwith feigning death, had actually gone to sleep. Now, although I washalf prepared for such a resuscitation, the effect upon me waselectrical; but I recovered from my surprise soon enough to enjoy theconfusion of the brigands, who in their terror and dismay at what theytook to be a miracle wrought by the saints on pur
pose to punish theirimpious conduct, took to their heels, stumbling over one another intheir flight, and letting drop all their treasure on the groundunheeded, scampered out of the church as fast as their legs could carrythem.

  "I was infinitely amused at the fright and discomfiture of these lawlessruffians, and at another time should have laughed heartily at theirsudden dispersion, but my rage at having been imposed upon, and thethoughts of vengeance I harboured against my false friend somewhatdamped my mirth. No sooner were the brigands safely out of the churchthan Peppe, who was now sufficiently wide awake to comprehend thesituation, after closing the church doors carefully, proceeded to spreada large handkerchief on the ground and to collect together all the goldand silver that had rolled about into every corner of the church, andwhich I've no doubt he thought he alone was entitled to.

  "It was at this moment that I made a sudden burst from the confessional,and rushing towards him, seized him by the throat.

  "'Villain!' I cried, 'your imposture is found out. Was it thus you hopedto swindle me out of my three pauls?'

  "'Ah, friend Antonio,' exclaimed he, quite unmoved, 'is it you? Now I amglad that with your own eyes you have witnessed the miracle that thesaints have wrought upon me in order to enable me to pay back the debt Iowe to my best friend.'

  "'Liar!' cried I; 'blaspheme not. Think not to impose on me again. Giveme my three pauls at once.'

  "'Three pauls!' he exclaimed. 'How on earth should I possess socontemptible a sum? Come, sit down here, and we will divide this goodlytreasure between us.'

  "Now, I knew that I had just as much right to the treasure as my friend,since it remained unclaimed, and therefore to divide it between us wasnothing more than fair, nor did I thank Peppe for inviting me to take myshare of it. Chance had thrown it in our way, and therefore I wasentitled to the half of it.

  "Nevertheless, I did not consider myself obliged to cancel my friend'sdebt because of the good fortune that had befallen us, but wasdetermined that he should still pay me the three pauls out of his sharewhen the whole should be divided, for the principle of the thing, for Iam very punctilious as to principle, especially when my interests areaffected.

  "However, I said nothing until after we had divided the treasureequally. This being done, some debate arose as to what we should do withthe diamond ring. Peppe thought he had a right to it, as he said it wasall through him that the brigands had been put to flight and had left usin possession of the treasure. He even called me ungrateful andunreasonable when I disputed it with him, after having allowed me ashare of the booty. I was not to be put off in this way. I told him thatI had a right to an equal share of the treasure, and owed no thanks tohim for the accident of good fortune that had befallen us both. As tothe ring, I said that if either of us had a right to it more than theother it was myself, as he was my debtor.

  "'Avaricious man!' exclaimed he, 'do you still think of exacting yourmiserable three pauls after my generosity in making you a sharer of thetreasure that belonged properly to me? Have I not already paid you overand over again the paltry debt I owed you? If the Madonna had notbrought me miraculously back to life you would have had nothing.'

  "'Peace, blasphemer!' cried I. 'Do you think to befool me again withyour imposture?'

  "'_Imposture!_' he exclaimed, with an air of injured innocence. 'Why,did you not see me rise from the dead with your own eyes?'

  "'Come, now,' said I, losing all patience, 'do you think that I was notsharp enough to suspect your plot from the very beginning, knowing whatsort of character I had to deal with? Do you imagine I couldn't seethrough all your shamming--that I didn't see your breast heaving?'

  "'_My breast heaving! The breast of a corpse heaving!_' he ejaculated.'Strange hallucination! Trust me, my dear friend, you must have beenslightly in liquor, and saw double.'

  "'And do you think that I did not observe that worn out with feigningdeath so long, you really fell asleep,' said I, heedless of his insult,'and that I did not hear you snore like a hog?'

  "'I snore like a hog!' he exclaimed. 'My dear friend, believe me, youmust have been _very strongly_ in liquor.'

  "'No more in liquor than you,' I cried, with some vehemence. 'That youwere sound asleep I can swear, nor would you have awoke till morning,had not one of the brigands hit you on the nose with that ring. Then,naturally forgetting your caution, you jumped up, stretched yourself,which act of yours being sufficient under the circumstances to striketerror among the brigands, who, imagining no doubt, what you would likeme also to believe--viz., that a miracle had been wrought to bring youback to life again, took to their heels and left their treasure behindthem.

  "'Now, you can't well expect me to believe in what you affect toconsider a miracle, seeing that I have been an eye-witness to yourantics from the very beginning, and as for trusting you with the ringuntil it shall be converted into money, that would be too much for youto expect from me, after the insight you have given me into yourcharacter.'

  "'Come now, old fellow,' said he, gaily, and with most provoking goodhumour, 'let us have no more words about it. We'll toss up for it.Nothing can be fairer than that.'

  "'I do not agree either to toss up for it or to draw lots for it, as Iam usually unlucky,' I replied, firmly.

  "'Then we'll settle it between ourselves as the brigands did. If I hityou on the nose with it, it is mine. If you can hit me with it, it shallbe yours. Come--here goes.'

  "'I object to these proceedings,' I replied.

  "'What will you do, then? Will you cut it in half with a knife?'

  "'Nor that either,' said I.

  "'Well, now,' said he, 'you are one of the never-contented. I see youare determined by hook or by crook to keep the ring all to yourself.'

  "'No,' I replied, 'I do not wish for anything that is not strictly fair.What I propose is this--viz., that I should keep the ring in mypossession until you have disbursed the three pauls out of your share.Then, after the ring has been estimated by a trustworthy party andturned into money, then we will share the produce equally.'

  "'Ho! ho!' laughed he, 'so that's what you are after, is it? Ha! ha! Isee it all. You fancy that under the excuse of waiting for your threepauls (which I know as well as you do yourself you do not care a strawfor, since you have become enriched with the half of my treasure) that Iam going to allow you quietly to abscond with the ring, which may beworth as much as all the treasure put together, for what I know, neverto be heard of afterwards. Well, that is a cool idea! Ha! ha! ha!'

  "'I protest,' said I, 'that such a thought never entered my head.'

  "'Oh, of course not,' said he, incredulously. 'Friend Antonio, it isclear that our respective mothers hatched neither of us two yesterday. Iam only a poor goatherd, yet I have learnt as much of the world fromwatching the antics of my goats as you have in trailing and pruning yourvines. We are both of us men, and we know what men are. We all have ourwants, and our brains were given us to supply them.'

  "'Yes,' replied I, 'in a conscientious and legitimate manner, and not toover-reach our fellow-men in the shortest and most unscrupulous way thatour petty interests may dictate, to the scandal of all good saints andthe blessed Madonna at their head.'

  "And here I launched out into a moral strain for at least an hour,hoping to bring him round by dint of argument and persuasion to my viewof the case, but finding him at the end of that time still obdurate, andin the same state of hardness of heart as before--for who can moralisewith such a heathen as Peppe?--I attempted to seize the ring by force,intending to keep it until he should pay me the debt he owed me, but hewas before me, and a scuffle ensued, he declaring that he would notsuffer me to keep the ring in my possession, and I being equally firm inrefusing to let him keep it in his without first paying me my threepauls.

  "He promised faithfully to pay me the debt when he should have changedone of the pieces of money that fell to his lot; until then, however, Iremained firm in my resolution. Words had by this time led to blows, andthe conflict was getting desperate, when, it being
now fairly morning,we were interrupted by the sacristan entering the church to light thecandles on the altar.

  "Starting back in wonderment and terror at what he naturally believed tobe a miraculous resuscitation, it it was some time before he wassufficiently calm to hear from me the true account of the case.

  "At length, recovering from his stupor, his eyes sparkled with anavaricious light at the divided treasure on the ground, and his skinnyfingers opened and shut convulsively. Then gazing furtively over eachshoulder, he put his finger to his lip, winked, and whispered hoarsely,'My friends, the secret of your newly-acquired wealth is as yet onlyknown to us three. I think you will find it to your interest that itshould not be known to more, as in that case it might come to the earsof the arch-priest, who would be sure to deprive you of every penny ofit, in consideration of its being found in his church. Reflect well, myfriends; there is but one way to swear me to secrecy.'

  "'And that is?' asked I.

  "'To let me have an equal share of the treasure,' said he, impudently.'What other way would you buy my silence?'

  "We both violently opposed this proposition, considering it no less thanan act of brigandage, and however Peppe and I might differ in opinion onmany subjects, we both agreed that this was a piece of extortion towhich we were not bound to submit. I said that I would sooner await thedecision of the arch-priest, which would perhaps, after all, not be suchas he--the sacristan--represented it, and Peppe swore that he wouldknock his dastardly brains out in the middle of the church before hewould let him touch a _baiocco_.

  "'Think again, my friends,' said the sacristan, exchanging his customarylook of sanctity for one of deep cunning and malignity. 'Think again,and decide quickly. In another minute the arch-priest will enter thechurch to perform mass. All the inhabitants of the village will bepouring in. There is no time to be lost. Either let me have a third ofthe treasure, or I shall swear by all the saints to the arch-priest thatI caught _you_, Signor Antonio, in the act of robbing the alms-box, andthat the Madonna wrought a miracle before my very eyes by raising _you_,Signor Guiseppe, from the dead in order to chastise the burglar for hissacrilege.'

  "'He will not believe thee, thou imp of Satan!' roared Peppe.

  "'We shall see,' rejoined the sacristan, with a malicious chuckle, andrubbing his hands.

  "At this moment the arch-priest entered, attired in his robes, and allthe congregation at his heels.

  "'Oh, Signor Arch-priest!' began the sacristan, in a loud voice, beforethe assembled multitude, rolling up his eyes and crossing himself withmock devotion, 'I have witnessed this morning a miracle with these veryeyes.'

  "'A miracle!' exclaimed the arch-priest and all the congregation inchorus.

  "'Ay,' persisted the sacristan; 'a genuine, undeniable miracle. As Ientered the church this morning to light the candles on the altar, Idiscovered this burglar (pointing to me) in the act of robbing thealms-box. He had just succeeded in extracting all that treasure that yousee on the ground before you, and which was doubtless all of it placedin the box by our blessed Lady's own hands for the use of her holychurch. For who else in our little village could have amassed such asum, or, having amassed it, would have been willing to put it all of aheap within the alms-box?

  "'Well, Signor Arciprete, just as the sacrilegious knave was about tocount his unhallowed gains, lo! a miracle, such as these eyes neverbefore beheld, and may never see again before they close for ever inpeace.'

  "'Well, well,' said the arch-priest, impatiently.

  "'Well, Signor Arciprete mio, will you believe it? Yon image of ourblessed Lady suddenly raised its arm in a commanding attitude, and witha voice of ineffable sweetness blended with severity cried out to yoncorpse, or, rather, that man, who _was_ a corpse only last night, as allgood people may recollect, "Corpse! arise and seize yon sacrilegiousruffian by the scruff of the neck!" The words were no sooner out of theblessed image's mouth, when up leapt the corpse from his bier, andseizing the burglar with an iron grasp, continued to hold him untilvostra Reverenza entered the church!'

  "The arch-priest remained dumbfounded for a time, not knowing what tosay; but just as I was about to break silence and try to exculpatemyself, my voice was immediately drowned by the multitude crying out,'Down with him! down with him! Down with the thief, the burglar, theheathen! Let him not seek to exculpate himself with lies. Hear him not;he is guilty of sacrilege! Down with the Protestant! Blessed be the holyman who was raised from the dead and the good sacristan to whose eyesthe miracle was vouchsafed! Down with the Jew, the Protestant, theheretic! _Away_ with the miscreant! away with him.'

  "I saw and heard no more. Hurried away, midst the hootings andexecrations of the crowd, I was flung into prison, where I have remainedever since the morning."

  There was much in Antonio's story that moved me to laughter, though nota smile appeared upon the face of the narrator himself throughout thewhole recital. There was an air of truth, too, about his manner thatleft no doubt in my mind that he had retailed the facts of the case asthey had occurred without adding to or taking from them in the minutestparticular.

  I was then able to tell him the sequel of the story; how the arch-priesthad put the greater part of the treasure into the alms-box, and, for therest, the sum being too large to enter all of it into the box, he hadtaken charge of it, together with the diamond ring, and had designed thewhole sum to be expended for the benefit of the church.

  On hearing this he replied that he had rather that the money should bedisposed of in that way than that blackleg of a sacristan should get apenny of it. He said that he was perfectly sure that the arch-priest hadonly so disposed of the money from a sincere belief that it had beenmiraculously placed in the alms-box, he himself being the dupe of hisown rascally sacristan to whom he trusted implicitly.

  He was of opinion that had he been allowed to explain himself to thearch-priest, his reverence would have granted him, if not his propershare of the sum, at least some portion of it. I promised him that Iwould lay his case before the arch-priest, and do what I could to gethim liberated from prison. He thanked me, and slipping a small coin intothe turnkey's hand, I quitted the cell.

  It was now quite dark, so I thought I would make the best of my wayhome, where my supper awaited me. The following morning was rainy, andnot being able to work out of doors, I resolved to call again upon thearch-priest, and finding him at home, I related to him my interview withthe prisoner and the statement he gave of the case.

  My reverend friend looked thoughtful for a time, shook his head, andhinted that the prisoner's veracity might not be depended on.

  "However," he added, "the tale seems feasible, and I desire nothing morethan that the prisoner should have justice. I will probe the matter tothe bottom, and if he has spoken the truth I will get him liberated assoon as possible, and will moreover give out publicly in the churchthat what we had erroneously taken for a miracle was nothing more than acurious combination of circumstances perfectly natural, though strange,and that I had been imposed upon by the villainous and profane lies ofmy sacristan. It will require time to prove all this; meanwhile, Antoniomust take his trial at Gennazzano. He left here at five o'clock thismorning."

  "So early!" I exclaimed. "I wanted, if possible, to prevent his going."

  "You take great interest in his case," said my friend.

  "I like to see mysteries cleared up as soon as possible," I replied. "Iknow that the love of the marvellous is so great among the ignorant inthese parts, that they prefer persisting to believe in a miracle, evenin the face of facts which explain it away in the most natural mannerpossible. This proneness to attribute to supernatural causes everythingthat we are unable to account for on the first glance, and to yieldourselves up implicitly to the belief of what is irrational, absurd,improbable, without first weighing thoroughly the _pros_ and _cons_ ofthe case, is one of the unmistakable signs of a barbarous anduncultivated intellect, and ought to be discouraged as a trait unworthythe dignity of human nature by everyone who has the impro
vement andwell-being of his fellow creatures at heart."

  The arch-priest smiled drily, as if he had taken my last speech tohimself; then, after a pause, he began:

  "No Christian man will deny that miracles have been wrought, or willdare to call in question those of our blessed Lord or of His saints. If,then, he acknowledges these, why should he try to combat the existenceof modern miracles, seeing that everything is possible to the Almighty?What! Shall we limit the power of the Omnipotent, or dare to measurethings infinite by our finite faculties? It would be the height ofpresumption for anyone to maintain that these things cannot be, or thatour Heavenly Father cares less for His creatures now than he did in thedays of yore."

  "No wise man, Christian or otherwise," I replied, "would deny that anywonder were possible to the Divine author of the universe, the GreatSource of all things wonderful. Yet science, the gift of God Himself,mind you, since He in the first place created us with intellect to seeinto, in some measure, however darkly, His wonderful workings, in orderthat we might be taught to admire them and thereby come to a moreperfect knowledge of His unspeakable greatness--science, I say, revealsto us that our universal Father rules all nature by means of certainfixed laws, from which we have no reason to believe that He would turnaside for a trifle--to excite mere wonderment among an ignorantmultitude by performing such a conjuring trick as a bleeding crucifix orweeping Madonna. Our Lord Himself was chary of His miracles, and whenasked for a sign would often refuse; yet when He did perform miracles,they were invariably to do good, and not to excite wonderment. If manyintelligent people disbelieve in modern miracles, it is because theyhave not come within their experience, or that many seeming miraclesthey have been able to explain by natural causes.

  "They have been made, moreover, doubly cautious in receiving hearsaymiracles for gospel from the numerous cases of imposture that have beendiscovered among the priesthood in all countries where the RomanCatholic religion has prevailed. Then, why should miracles only bewrought in little sequestered villages, among the ignorant andsuperstitious, and not in large towns, in the presence of an intelligentand investigating population? Why, moreover, should they be moreprevalent in mountainous districts than in any others? Why? Save thatfrom the topographical configuration of the country, the inhabitants ofmountain villages are necessarily more shut out from intercommunicationwith their kind than the dwellers in more accessible regions, andconsequently cut off from that interchange of ideas so necessary to thedevelopment of the human intellect.

  "Because their minds thus necessarily forced into one narrow channeltill the intelligence borders on that of the brute, and is kept down tothat pitch by a coarse and monotonous diet, which hard labour enablesthem to earn but scantily, and, finally, because by intermarryingclosely among their own narrow population they reproduce offspring, ifanything, more stunted in intelligence than themselves--to say nothingof other natural influences which help to produce cretinism, goitre, anddeformity--and thus shutting out from their poor benighted intellectstheir last chance of fair play.

  "Ignorant by force of circumstances, superstitious because they areignorant, naturally discontented, with a life of hard labour that barelysupplies that life's necessaries, what wonder that the human mind thusstunted and oppressed by all its surroundings, should seek an outlet?That that outlet should be one that held out promises of a better timeto come than they are ever likely to see in their plodding every-daylife?

  "What wonder that such a one should throw himself more entirely upon thecomforts of the religion that his village priest holds out to him thanone more contented with his earthly lot, or that, superstitious as he isignorant, he should daily hope for some miracle to be wrought for hisown special benefit? Is it too much to infer that a mind in which faithreigns supreme and reason is hushed to sleep may be deluded by itssenses--that it may imagine it sees or hears anything that it desires tosee or hear?

  "Is this an irrational solution of the stories so common of pictures ofthe Virgin or other saints moving their eyes or speaking? Then justconsider when the average intelligence of a scanty population is at thisebb, what temptation this holds out to the priest of the parish whoseoffice it is to rule his little flock by maintaining order andrestraining crime, to strike awe into his congregation and keep alivetheir fanatical faith by some pious fraud in the shape of a crucifixthat bleeds by an easy mechanical contrivance, an image of the Madonnathat sheds tears, or a picture that rolls its eyes!

  "These tricks were known to the heathen priests of antiquity long beforethe introduction of Christianity, and have been repeatedly carried outsince by the priests of Rome. It is to the successful delusion of thesepoor benighted wretches that the Church of Rome owes her vauntedlaurels. These are your miracle seers! To these alone do the saintsvouchsafe to perform their wonders! As for the intelligent and wise, ifthey go to a church on purpose to see a miracle, and come away withoutseeing it, they are told by the priest that it is because they lackfaith, that they do not go in the proper spirit, that their natures aretoo material, that such sights are reserved only for the faithful, andthat few are sufficiently spiritualised to behold them.

  "So you see there is no way of catching a priest napping. He will alwaysfind some hole to creep out of. Like an eel, he will slip through yourfingers at the very moment that you may think you have got him. Shouldany individual be bold enough to force his way through the wonder-gazingcrowd, and publicly demolish the miracle-working image or picture andreveal to the devout bystanders the paltry mechanism by which they havebeen deluded, people's eyes would at length be opened, all miracles beliable to suspicion, and reason at length admitted into some share ofman's being.

  "But there are difficulties that beset so bold an expedient. In thefirst place, a man must be possessed of more than an ordinary amount ofcourage to face the fury of a fanatical mob whom he knows to be ready totear him in pieces should he attempt to rob them of their darlingprejudices, or dare to break one chip off their sacred wood or stone.

  "Secondly, the wonder-working image or picture is generally in aninaccessible place, high up on the wall or surrounded by railings, toprevent a too close scrutiny. Thirdly, the miracle often exists merelyin the imaginations of devout believers, without any aid of mechanism onthe part of the priest. In this case, if any man were daring enough tostep forward and openly to break in pieces the supposed miraculous imageor picture, and, having done so, was unable to detect in the fragmentsany trace of machinery or means of imposture whatever, the fame of themiracle would then gain ground, and the daring unbeliever be guilty ofsacrilege."

  When I had got thus far, my friend the arch-priest drew himself up andwas about to reply in a lengthy rejoinder, when he was suddenlyinterrupted by the servant girl of his household bursting hurriedly intothe room and crying out at the top of her voice, "Oh, Signor Arciprete,have you heard the news? The _vetturino_ of the mail has just arrived.He says that the night before last the mail was stopped on its way toRome by a band of brigands, who robbed the passengers, consisting of sixEnglish gentlemen and others, of everything they had about them. Gold,silver, and paper money--quite a heap--besides some gold and silverwatches, and, among other things, a diamond ring of great value,belonging to one of the English gentlemen. The soldiers are on the trackof the brigands already, and a heavy reward is offered to whosoevershall give such information as shall lead to their discovery.

  "Poor Luigi! He says that he himself was robbed of his silver watch andpaper money, amounting to forty pauls, all he possessed in the world. Ido hope they'll catch the nasty wretches. I myself would see themexecuted. _Gesu Maria!_ What hungry wolves! But I must be off now totell all the people in the village, or else that horrid gossip MariaGiovanna will be before me, and I always like to be first."

  So saying, she bounced out of the room, slamming the door after her, andwe were left once more alone.

  There was a pause, and my friend was the first to break silence. Thethread of his ideas had been broken by the girl's sudden entry into theroom
with the startling news, so he did not resume his discourse, butafter a while observed:--

  "I suppose you see in the wild tale of this girl a corroboration of theprisoner's statement, and a link in the chain of evidence."

  "Well," said I, "it looks like it, does it not? The heaps of gold andsilver, the paper money, the gold and silver watches, and, moreover, thediamond ring. It certainly looks as if the mystery were beginning toclear up."

  "Softly, my friend, softly," rejoined the priest, who still grudged theevent to natural causes. "Do not be rash in jumping at conclusions, forthe evidence is not yet complete. Let us first satisfy ourselves thatthe girl's tale is true, for reports get wind about our village--onehardly knows how--without the least vestige of truth in them. I willspeak to the _vetturino_ myself, and if the tale prove true, or partlytrue--for, depend upon it, the story will have lost nothing in thetelling--need it do away entirely with the miracle?

  "For instance, suppose instead of being a band of a dozen brigands, itshould have been only one brigand, and that brigand your friend Antoniohimself. That he alone, laden with his treasure, and being attracted bythe light of a candle that he descried through the chinks of the churchdoor, forced his way into the church to count over his booty. Supposingthis to have been the case, the miracle may, nevertheless, have occurredprecisely as related to me by the sacristan."

  "You are very ingenious," said I, "in suggesting an improbability inorder to support your miracle, but, if you recollect, the sacristandeclared that he caught Antonio in the act of breaking open thealms-box."

  "That may have been a mistake caused by the excited state of his mindon the occasion. However, I will see Luigi at once, and learn from hisown lips the true state of the case, for I am as anxious to get at thetruth as you are."

  "Then let us lose no time in speaking to him at once," said I. "Theweather is clearing up now, and as I have nothing better to do, I willaccompany you in your stroll down to his house."

  This was agreed on; so, putting on our hats, we found ourselves oncemore among the dirty streets, until we reached the house of the_vetturino_. Here we found him in front of his own door, surrounded by acrowd of eager peasants, who were listening with avidity to the recitalof his adventures.

  "_Buon giorno, Signor Arciprete_," said Luigi, raising his hat as weapproached.

  "_Buon giorno, Luigi_," responded the arch-priest. "There is a strangetale current in the village about you and your passengers having beenrobbed on the high road. Can it be true."

  "Perfectly true, Reverenza," was the reply. "Only the night before lastwe were assaulted by at least a dozen banditti armed to the teeth, andmy passengers, six of whom were English gentlemen, along with myself."

  "Stay," said the arch-priest. "You are perfectly sure there were a dozenof them?"

  "A dozen at the very least, your Reverence, I could swear."

  "Tell me," said the arch-priest, "did you see Antonio the prisoneramongst them."

  "Antonio?" inquired the _vetturino_, in extreme surprise.

  "Ay," replied the arch-priest. "He that hath been accused of robbing thechurch and is now at Gennazzano awaiting his trial. You will have heardthe tale by this time."

  "I certainly did hear a wonderful story, Reverenza, but did not know howfar to credit it," replied the _vetturino_. "The night was very dark andI could recognise no faces.

  "But, _Corpi di Bacco_! Antonio! Why I always considered Antonio as anhonest man, a simple _vignauolo_ who earned his bread by the sweat ofhis brow, and whom, for his steady plodding, the saints had awarded bygranting him a better share of this world's goods than most of hisfellows."

  "Ay, ay," said several bystanders at once, "we all thought so, too,Signor Arciprete. Still, what we all saw with our own eyes, onlyyesterday morning, made us change our opinion."

  The arch-priest looked thoughtful, and then enquired of Luigi if he knewanything of Peppe, the man who had been raised from the dead.

  "Peppe!" exclaimed the _vetturino_, laughing, "ay, do I, and a greaterrascal never walked God's earth. That is why I was so cautious inbelieving a story in which Peppe the goatherd was mixed up. I never yetheard any tale in which he figured but had some devilry at the bottom ofit."

  "You do not believe, then, in the miracle?"

  "Not upon such testimony," replied Luigi. "I should believe _you_,Signor Arciprete, if you had seen it with your own eyes," he added,respectfully.

  "All I can declare is," replied the priest, "that I saw the man Peppe,apparently dead, and decked out as a corpse, placed within the churchupon his bier, and the morning after, as I entered the church to saymass, I saw him as alive as ever again, still in his shroud, andappearing to dispute the treasure with Antonio. As for the rest, it wascommunicated to me by Ricardo, my sacristan. Do you know Ricardo?"

  "I do," replied Luigi, in a tone of deep meaning.

  "Well," said the arch-priest, "what do you think of him?"

  "Well, Signor Arciprete," said the _vetturino_, hesitatingly, "as he isyour sacristan, perhaps you would not like to hear _what_ I think ofhim."

  "Speak out, man," said the arch-priest. "If I find him unworthy of hispost, I shall discharge him. Come, now, what do you know about him?"

  "Since your Reverence presses me," replied the _vetturino_, "I mustconfess that I have found him to be just such another scamp as Peppe thegoatherd, if not worse, and, in spite of all his mock piety, I havefound him to be as cunning a knave as I know for miles round. Graspingas an eagle, wily as a serpent, and withal as poor spirited as a hare,seeking to cover his knavery with the cloak of religion; imagining thatno one can see through his hypocrisy."

  "You surprise me," exclaimed the arch-priest; "but what proof have youof his knavery?"

  "Well, in the first place," replied the _vetturino_, "he is in debt withalmost every man in the village, myself among the number, and not in oneinstance has he been known to repay what he has borrowed. I have pressedhim over and over again, but he always sneaks out of it by some lameexcuse, even when I know he has been able to pay me. He wanted to marrymy sister once, because he thought there was a little money to be had,but when he spoke to my mother about her dowry, and received for replythat she did not intend to give her daughter to one who sought her forher dowry, and that he who would marry her must support her himself, hevery soon slunk off. Not that I'd have given my consent to such ascarecrow marrying my sister, even if he _had_ been less grasping. Then,would you believe it, your Reverence, he actually had the impudence toinsult my sister when he encountered her alone, as he thought, in thecampagna. He little knew that I was only a short distance behind. I cameupon him unawares in time to overhear part of his impertinentconversation, and I gave him such a thrashing as will make him rememberLuigi the _vetturino_ as long as he lives.

  "Then, there is no doubt that it was he who picked the pocket of poorold Matteo when he happened to be drunk; everybody believes that,besides several other dirty tricks that I will not weary your patienceby relating, though I could if I would. As for cheating at cards, he isquite an adept, and yet, with all this, he walks with his eyeshypocritically fixed on the ground, counting his beads and crossinghimself, as if he were a very saint. But he doesn't take _me_ in, yourReverence, however he may impose on our simple peasantry, for when a manis a _vetturino_, he sees other towns besides his own, and gets to knowpeople of all sorts. I have been in Rome, and have picked up a thing ortwo."

  "Well, enough for the present, Luigi," said the arch-priest. "I willenquire into this matter; meanwhile I intend to take a stroll with thisgentleman. Till we meet again," and he waved his hand to the_vetturino_.

  "A rivederla, Signor Arciprete," responded Luigi, raising his hatrespectfully.

  "You see now," said I to my friend, as we strolled together from thenarrow streets into one of the main roads, "that there is some evidenceto support my view of the case. I never did think much of yoursacristan; his face was enough for me, but after the evidence you havejust heard, methinks you would do well to rid
yourself of such anornament to your church."

  "It is odd," replied my friend, "that I never suspected him of beingthat sort of character. On the contrary, I thought him a most exemplaryyoung man. It is not long ago since he informed me of his ardent desireto enter holy orders."

  "A fine priest he'd make!" said I, laughing. "The church has no need ofhim, for there are too many of his sort among your priesthood already.Not that he wouldn't be popular," I added, soothingly. "On the contrary,he would be able to manufacture miracles by the cart-load, I warrant, inorder to satisfy his flock's thirst for the marvellous. He wouldprobably die in the odour of sanctity and be canonised after his death."

  "My friend, my friend," said the arch-priest, gravely, "our church isnot, as you think, rash in canonising a man a saint. Our lawsuits areextremely rigid, and long--so much so, that many a holy man has beenrejected as a saint on account of the insufficient evidence of hismiracles."

  Then he proceeded to enlarge upon the miracles of the saints of old andall the legendary lore of his religion, and thus he entertained me untilwe found ourselves once more at the door of his house.

  "Signor Arciprete," said the aforementioned servant girl, whom wediscovered on the threshold, conversing with an elderly peasant, "hereis a man who wishes to speak to you in private. He says he has somethingto communicate."

  "Show him into my study," said the arch-priest. "I suppose you do notmind my friend being present?" said he, addressing the man and glancingat me.

  "No, Reverenza," said the peasant, shutting the door of the priest'sstudy behind him, "it was only to bring you some information concerningthe brigands."

  "Ha!" exclaimed the arch-priest, pricking up his ears. "Proceed."

  "Well, your Reverence," began the peasant, "hearing that a reward hadbeen offered to anyone able to give such information as should lead tothe discovery of the brigands, I thought I would make known whathappened to me on the very night of the robbery, which I hope may proveof some use to the brigand-catchers.

  "It was long past midnight when I was returning from Civitella, havingpurchased a hog there, which I was leading along by a string attached toits hind leg, when in the darkness I heard the sound of many voices, andupon listening attentively I recognised them as belonging to thebrigands, into whose hands I had fallen twice before, and I began to bealarmed for my hog, which I made sure would be seized as a prize, andaccordingly hid myself behind a tree until the whole band should havepassed by. I was near enough to hear every word they said, but theirvoices seemed neither to grow louder nor to grow less.

  "At length the moon breaking from behind a cloud, revealed to me thefeatures of the brigand chief. He was standing erect whilst the rest ofhis band were squatting or lounging around him in a circle. He thenproceeded to harangue them.

  "I trembled from head to foot, and felt that my only chance of escapingobservation was to continue rooted to the spot without disturbing thedead leaves that lay strewn at my feet, but the wretched animal, mycompanion, commenced grunting and squealing, as if purposely to mark mywhereabouts, and I made sure every moment that the brigands would bedown upon us both.

  "'Hush!' I cried, coaxingly.

  "'Grunt,' went the brute, louder than ever.

  "'Madonna mia Santissima!' I muttered, crossing myself, 'preserve a poorman and his pig from the depredations of these marauders!'

  "I know not if our good lady vouchsafed to hear my prayer, but certainit was that the brigands paid no attention whatever to either of us, soengrossed did they all seem with the oration of their chief, every wordof which fell distinctly on my ear in the stillness of the night, and Imust own that the tenor of it surprised me, for instead of the profaneoaths, fiendish laughter, or the planning of some new daring exploit, asI should have expected from such men, I now listened to a piousdiscourse, filled with godly phrases such as you, Signor Arciprete,might have used yourself from the pulpit. I think I can give you almostword for word the discourse as it ran.

  "'My comrades,' he commenced, 'we have for many years toiled together inan arduous and perilous profession; at war with society, wresting fromthe innocent and good their hard-earned substance to supply our ownwants, instead of getting our own livelihood honestly and by the sweatof our brow, as God hath decreed. Oppressed in our turn by the avengersof our victims, we are hunted like wolves, and have to take refuge fromour pursuers in the most inaccessible parts of the mountains, in caves,in forests and such-like secret places.

  "'Rest has departed from our slumbers--for what man can rest in the fearthat the vigilant myrmidons of the law with which he has lived at enmityare ever on his track?

  "'Like Ishmael, our hand is against every man, and every man's hand isagainst us. This is the lot of the brigand, as we all know. Born andbred in danger, nurtured from the breast, not with the milk of humankindness, but by the blood of his fellow men; his childish joys, thegroans and sufferings of his mutilated victims; feasting on horrors fromhis earliest youth, unbridled and brutal in his appetites, his highestambition through life to be a hardier ruffian than his father beforehim.

  "'Have we not, my friends, committed every sort of atrocity of whichdegraded humanity is capable? Nay, revelled in it, impiously defyingthat very God whom we ought humbly and reverently to thank as the Authorof our beings? Let each of us look back upon our past lives and askourselves how we have thanked Almighty God for his innumerableblessings.

  "'How have we repaid His ineffable love and care over us? Has it notbeen by subverting His wise laws, despising His holy ordinances,brutalising our natures, even to a degree lower than the very brutesthemselves? My brethren, we may be powerful against the weak and againstthe law, yet there is One above us more powerful than ourselves, to Whomwe shall all one day have to give an account. Let us fight no longeragainst God; for what is man when matched against Omnipotence. Deem itnot cowardice, my friends, to relinquish a life of evil now that yoursouls have received the light of truth, but rather thank God for Hisinfinite mercy in vouchsafing so great a miracle through His Holy Motherto save our souls from the bottomless pit.

  "'I confess that almost from my earliest youth I never have looked uponreligion as aught but priest-craft, and scoffed at all miracles astricks of the priesthood to impose upon the ignorant and simple; butwhat shall we say, my brethren, to the miracle we have all so latelywitnessed, or how shall we attempt to explain it away? Was it not theintervention of the blessed Virgin herself to scare us--the impiousdesecraters of her holy Church--from our evil ways? Could anything shortof Divine power have raised the dead at the lonely hour of midnightwithin the very church itself, and have struck such terror into us, thehardy sons of the mountains, who never yet quailed before mortal man?

  "'Tell me, my friends, if in all my wild life, in all our jointvillainies and wicked enterprises, in the very face of death, if youhave ever known me to lack courage before to-night?'

  "'Never, Capitano, never,' cried several voices at once. 'We know yourcourage to be undaunted, and that there is no mortal man that you standin awe of; but when it comes to running counter to spirits raised fromthe dead, or devils from hell, that is quite another sort of thing, anda man need be the arch-fiend himself to be without fear.'

  "'Just so,' replied the brigand chief; 'then, since none of you are ableto accuse me with a lack of human courage, you may know that myexhortation to you to repent and alter the course of your unholy livesis not the mere words of a craven soul who fears the law and seeks toshun the just penalty of his misdeeds, but those of a repentant sinnermiraculously brought to conversion through the intervention of theblessed Madonna, whom, in her boundless mercy, she had deigned to bringto a sense of his wickedness, even in the very midst of his crimes.

  "'Let us turn from our evil ways, oh, my comrades! Take the advice of abrother sinner, more deeply dyed in iniquity than any of yourselves, andrepent ere it be too late! What can atone for all our past wickednesssave the utter renouncement of our evil ways, a life of rigid penanceand the entire devotion of ourse
lves to God? Marvel not, then, mycomrades in wickedness, that you hear the man once your chief andforemost in wrong, exhort you to throw down your arms, divest yourselvesof your trappings, and don the holy convent garb, in order that by alife of fasting and prayer you may endeavour to open up a communicationwith Heaven, and wrest your souls from the hands of the Devil. I myselfwill set you the example.

  "'As I have been the first to incite you to evil, so will I be the firstto exhort you to repentance. Follow me, all ye that have a mind to saveyour souls. Yet I no longer command, but entreat you for your own good,for I aspire no longer to be your chief, but to live humbly as yourfellow labourer in Christ, to whom be all honour and glory, now and forevermore. Amen.'

  "As the chief brigand terminated his harangue the pale grey of themorning sky lighted up the faces of the whole band, so that I could nowdistinguish the features of each individual and the various expressionsof their countenances. Several appeared deeply affected, with tears ofrepentance standing in their eyes, others sullen and obdurate. Some witha look of vacant astonishment, others scowling and suspicious, or with asuppressed grin.

  "Their chief's harangue seemed to call for a reply, and there was asilence of some minutes, during which period the members of the bandappeared debating among themselves by means of winking and nudging as towhat their reply should be, and who should take it upon himself to speakfor the rest. I observed that they looked towards a sturdy brigand, whomnext to their chief they honoured with the deepest veneration. To himthey turned as the mouthpiece of the gang, and seemed to intimate thatthey would abide by his decision.

  "This man, who appeared wrapt in thought, finding himself thus appealedto, and feeling that he represented the sentiments of the whole band, atlength addressed his chief in these words:--

  "'Signor Capitano, we are ready as ever to follow you to the very jawsof death, according to our oath. We have served you long and faithfullyin all your deeds of daring and crime, and we will not abandon you nowin your change of sentiment, knowing, as we do, that you are still thesame brave and generous man as ever, and as such will always remain, inwhatever capacity, whether as the lawless brigand of the mountains, oras a holy monk in the retirement of the convent cell; therefore, in thepresence of the whole band I repeat my former vows of fidelity andfriendship, and reiterate my protestations of following you throughlife, to the utmost ends of the earth, if need be. The discipline of ourmonastic life will be merely the exchanging one life of hardships foranother no less hard, therefore we cannot be charged with cowardice oridleness, since there are duties before us that will call forth all thecourage and endurance of our natures.

  "'As for learning and psalm-singing, it has never been exactly myspeciality; nevertheless, I quite agree with you, Captain, that the lifewe have been in the habit of leading for years past is not the best tosuit us for Heaven, and I am not ashamed to say that I have long hadqualms of conscience for my past misdeeds, and had resolved uponrepentance at some future period, but never did I look back upon thepast with such horror and remorse as at the present moment, having nowbeen brought to a thorough knowledge of my crimes and of the bountifulmercy of our blessed Lady to us miserable sinners, as shown in theundoubted miracle that we all so clearly witnessed.

  "'After having received so great a proof of the blessed Virgin's loveand care for us, would it not be the blackest ingratitude to continue inmortal sin? Would it not be the most egregious folly as well, afterhaving had Divine warning to alter our lives, still to persist inpreferring death and hell to the sublime promises held out to the good?

  "'Why longer delay, then, my friends? Think of your precious souls, andrepent while there is still breath left in your bodies. It may not belong ere we shall be captured and executed. How shall we pass our lastmoments on earth, or how brook the vengeance of a just God with all ourcrimes upon our heads?

  "'Enough, then, of pusillanimous disbelief and impotent strugglingagainst Divine will. Let us hasten to the nearest convent, confess oursins, then, with a clean breast and humble spirit, endeavour to atonefor the past by a life of penitence and prayer, that we may fearlesslymeet our end as men and Christians.'

  "This exhortation was universally applauded, and as every man isgoverned by the public opinion of the little circle wherein he lives andmoves, so even those who had shown themselves obdurate and suspiciousfelt themselves forced to yield to the overwhelming tide of changedopinion, feeling ashamed of being left in the minority.

  "The chief, doffing his hat, fell upon his knees and thanked the MostHigh for his conversion and that of his whole band, in which prayer allthe rest reverently joined. Then rising from their knees, but with headsstill uncovered, they walked on towards the convent, singing an 'AveMaria,' by the way.

  "I did not know what to make of all this, for as yet I had heard nothingof the miracle, but I had hardly reached home safely with my pig, when Iheard from almost every mouth in the village of the great miraclewrought on the night of the robbery."

  The peasant having concluded his narrative, was dismissed with anassurance from the arch-priest that should his revelation lead to thecapture of the brigands he would be duly rewarded. Nevertheless, heinformed him that he was not the person to apply to, and that he shouldmention the affair to the authorities.

  Being left once more alone with my friend, I asked him what he thoughtof the man's tale, and whether or no it corroborated the statements madeby Luigi and Antonio. All three witnesses bore testimony to a pluralityof brigands, which seemed to me completely to overthrow my worthyfriend's hypothesis as to there being only one brigand.

  I confess, though, I was still puzzled by the peasant's wonderful story.I could hardly bring myself to believe in the utter and simultaneousconversion of a whole band of brigands, even though they _had_ beenterrified and thwarted for a moment in their crimes by an apparentmiracle, and yet what object could the man have had in inventing such alie, knowing, as he must have done, that he was not entitled to thereward until after the capture of the brigands.

  My friend the priest suggested that possibly he might have been foolenough to expect payment beforehand, and that he had concocted thisfable on the strength of it. The man was simple enough, it is true, butthere was an air of truth about the manner in which he told his talethat induced me to give credit to it, strange though it appeared.

  In any case, I knew that the truth or falsity of the man's statementwould soon be made manifest, for the brigand-catchers, once sent off inthe direction indicated by the peasant, would not fail to call at theconvent and inquire if the brigands were taking shelter there, in whichcase the monks would be forced to deliver up their charge into the handsof justice. As it happened, the brigand-catchers had already started insearch of their prey, though in quite an opposite direction.

  But let us return to our landlady, who had been impatiently awaiting me,having now prepared my noon-day meal some time.

  "The signor is late to-day," she said, as I entered. "I fear he willfind the macaroni cold."

  "No matter," I replied. "I have a good appetite, from having been verybusy all the morning."

  "The signor has been busy--yes? And yet I notice that he left all hispainting tools at home," observed the landlady.

  "True, my good woman," I replied. "The morning being rainy, I wasprevented from painting out-of-doors, but I have been very busy,nevertheless."

  "Indeed, Signor," she exclaimed, "what could have occupied you so muchas to forget your dinner, if I may be permitted to ask?"

  I expected this question, knowing that my hostess inherited the vice ofcuriosity, in common with the rest of her sex, in a marked degree.

  "How was I occupied?" I repeated. "Why, how else than by searching tothe bottom that confounded miracle you were so full of all yesterday andthe day before."

  "Oh, Signor, how you talk!" exclaimed my hostess, horrified. "What! doyou mean to say that the Blessed Virgin has not wrought among us thegreatest miracle ever heard of in these parts?"

  "Well, if t
his is one of the greatest," I replied, "I should advise herto give up miracles for the future, for she is no hand at them."

  "How say you, Signor?" cried the landlady, shocked at my levity, andcrossing herself again and again. "Oh, you Protestants believe innothing! What! Is it not a great miracle to raise the dead?"

  "It would be, if it were true," I interrupted.

  "If it were true!" she repeated. "How should it not be true? Have younot heard that the arch-priest himself believes it, that all the villagebelieves it, that the good Ricardo the sacristan was an eye-witness ofthe miracle?"

  "I must have better testimony than his in order to believe in themiraculous character of the story you related to me. However, I havesince looked into the case myself and find it to be a gross piece ofimposture."

  "_Imposture!_" cried the hostess. "Impossible! Who has beenimposing--his reverence, perhaps?"

  "No," I said; "the arch-priest was only one of the dupes. His rascal ofa sacristan was at the bottom of all the mischief. That scoundrel Peppe,too, was another prominent actor in the farce."

  "What do I hear?" exclaimed my landlady; "the pious Ricardo and the holyPeppe called 'rascal' and 'scoundrel.' You surely mistake theircharacters."

  "We are all liable to make mistakes sometimes," said I; "but I willhope, for their own sakes, that they are not as black as they appear."

  "You mystify me, Signor," she replied; "but I am sure you must belabouring under a gross mistake, for as a proof of Peppe's being a holyman, he has been doing nothing but miracles since he was raised from thedead."

  "What is that you say?" cried I, pricking up my ears.

  "Why, Signor, you must know that as soon as Peppe left the church on themorning of the miracle he was followed by a great crowd of thefaithful."

  "Of the curious and the idle, you mean," I observed, interrupting her."Well, proceed."

  "Who followed him to the door of his house," she continued; "and asdivers of them were labouring under sore diseases, they besought him totouch them that they might be healed. Well, very many of them went awaycured; others, he said, he was unable to cure on account of their wantof faith."

  "The artful dog!" said I, smiling. "Now, I'll be bound to say he madeall those who imagined themselves cured pay him well."

  "Oh, they all gave him something, of course, from a _baiocco_ upwards,according to their means. They tell me the worthy man has made a heap ofmoney by his miraculous touch."

  "Miraculous humbug!" I exclaimed, half-amused and half-angry at thesuccess of such a vagabond.

  "_Humbug!_ say you still?" cried my hostess. "How can it be humbug, ifhe really _has_ cured the sick?"

  "Come now," said I; "perhaps you will oblige me with a list of thediseases that this new saint professes to have cured."

  "Willingly," she replied.

  "In the first case, there is old Margherita, who lives at the bottom ofthe dell, and has been suffering much from nervous headaches; he buttouched her forehead, and she walked away declaring herself cured. Thenthere was poor old Carluccio, who goes about begging from one place toanother. He suffered much from rheumatism; but having been touched byPeppe on the parts affected, he immediately pronounced himself muchbetter, if not quite cured. Then the girl Lucia, who lives half-way downthe hill, and who used to suffer from the jumps, she likewise has notcomplained since. Then, again, Pietro, the vignauolo, who was sufferingfrom stomach-ache, felt himself considerably better some few hours afterhe had been touched by Peppe. Brigida, the daughter of old Angeluccio,has for some time been the victim of a deep melancholy. Since shereceived the magic touch she has done nothing but laugh and sing,Giacomuccio, the idiot boy, complained of loss of appetite, but afterPeppe had touched him he went home and ate up all the _maritozza_ in thehouse. Then the number of children he has cured is something fabulous;at least, so their parents say."

  "Well, well, my good woman," said I; "but these are all trifles. Can yougive me no great cure that he has effected, such as giving sight to theblind, causing the lame to walk, the dumb to speak, the deaf to hear,and the like?"

  "One blind man came to be cured," replied my hostess; "but he, so Peppesaid, had not sufficient faith, so of course no cure could be effected.It was the same with a cripple who had a withered arm, a man who had thesmall-pox, as well as several others. He said he could do nothing withthem, as they were wanting in faith."

  "I thought as much," said I. "All those whom he could not induce tobelieve were cured, he sent away as not having sufficient faith--thewily rascal! Now, my good woman, I really _do_ wonder at your placingfaith in such trash. If you knew as much about Peppe's character as Ido, you would very soon cease to look upon him as a saint. Besides, whatare the diseases you tell me he has cured? Headaches, jumps,nervousness, low spirits, want of appetite, etc.--trifles all of them.

  "He was supposed by all to have been miraculously raised from the dead,and they therefore concluded that he must have been a holy man, for sucha miracle ever to have been wrought upon him, and being so esteemed,they at once jumped at the conclusion that he was gifted with power towork miracles. Accordingly, all the scum of the village turns out andfollows him, placing implicit faith in his power to cure them of theirhalf imaginary complaints. They receive his touch, pay their money, andtheir imagination worked upon, they fancy themselves healed. This is thesecret of all his boasted success, for you say yourself that in allthose cases that were worth healing he signally failed."

  "Be that as it may, Signor," replied the woman, "you will hardly pretendto account for the miracle wrought upon Peppe himself in that manner.How could a man be raised from the dead by imagination? I don't seehow."

  "You don't? Then I will tell you; listen."

  I here proceeded to retail the account of Peppe's feigned decease inorder to escape paying his debt of three pauls; the entrance of thebrigands into the church with the spoil, since proved to have beenrobbed from six English travellers and others who were making their waytowards Rome on that very night; the dividing of the spoil upon thealtar, and the diamond ring that remained over, with which one of thebrigands dexterously succeeded in startling Peppe out of the sleep intowhich he had fallen, by hitting him on the nose, and finally, theconfusion of the brigands at the sight of what they supposed to be aresuscitated corpse.

  I also related how they had abandoned the treasure in their flight, andhow Peppe, taking advantage of his position, proceeded to gathertogether the said treasure, intending to keep it all for himself. HowAntonio at this moment burst from his hiding place in the confessional,whither he had resorted in order to satisfy himself whether his friend'sdeath were genuine or spurious. How both of them disputed the treasure,how they agreed to divide it equally, and how the diamond ring became abone of contention. How they were surprised by the sacristan early thenext morning. The sacristan's avarice, revenge, and hypocrisy. I dilatedon the story, not omitting the minutest particular, and winding up withthe subsequent conversion of the brigands, and letting her know uponwhat authority I had come to the knowledge of these facts.

  The discomfiture of my hostess at hearing her darling miracle explainedaway by natural causes, and those, too, of so ridiculous a nature, wastruly pitiable. I believe, in her heart, she wished that I had never putup at her inn, so that I might not have dispelled the sweet illusion.

  Not many days after my hostess had become convinced of the spuriousnessof her once cherished miracle, the brigand-catchers returned after theirfruitless search, but being put upon the right scent immediately ontheir return, they set off at once to the convent, where they commandedthe monks, in the name of the law, to deliver up the prisoners. It was,however, too late. The brigands in the meantime had written a fullconfession of their crime to the Pope, with an account of the miracleand of their sudden determination, in consequence, of leading holy livesfor the future, and had received from His Holiness pardon andabsolution, on condition that they should follow out their virtuousintentions.

  The document, with the pontifical seal affixe
d to it, was placed intothe hands of these emissaries of the law, who had now nothing to do butto retire. The brigands had been transformed into monks; so far no onehad anything to say but the six English travellers, the victims in thelate robbery, and who had lost no time on their arrival in Rome ininforming the government of their loss, and urging the immediate captureof the brigands; having heard of the extraordinary turn the affair hadtaken, now impatiently demanded their money back.

  Believers in the late miracle now grew scarcer and scarcer every day,the eyes of the most obstinate being now open to conviction byoverwhelming evidence. Peppe had lost his prestige as a saint, and theheadaches, jumps, fits of melancholy, loss of appetite, and other smallevils of which his patients had thought themselves miraculously cured,came back again as before to the indignant faithful, who, armed, in abody laid siege to the house of the "soi-disant" saint, vowing to burnhis dwelling over his head, if he refused to give back to each the moneythat under false pretences he had extorted.

  There is no knowing what an infuriated Italian mob may not be guilty ofperpetrating in the height of its fury; but let its rage be once drawnaside by some novel excitement or emotion, its fury will evaporate,expending its force through another channel. It might have gone hardwith Peppe, if a trifling incident had not served to avert the fury ofthe mob when at its climax. This was the arrival of the diligence withthe six Englishmen, whose pecuniary losses we have before alluded to,and who have arrived to claim their money from the arch-priest.

  Trifling as this incident was, it proved sufficient to induce theinhabitants of this sequestered village to abandon their purpose, andtheir curiosity now being raised to its height, they relinquished theirvictim for a time, in order to have a good stare at the six illustriousstrangers who had fallen a prey to the brigands, while Peppe, takingadvantage of the general confusion, made his escape from the back doorof his hut, and was soon lost to view in the thick grove of olive treesthat flanked the slopes of the hill.

  My story now draws towards a close. The money was returned to theowners, who were received with courtesy by the arch-priest, from whosevery lips they heard a detailed account of the late miracle, and sodelighted were they with the simplicity and urbanity of their newacquaintance, that they each made him a handsome present out of themoney restored to them, for the benefit of his church, and perhaps as aslight compensation for the dissatisfaction he must have felt at themiracle not proving genuine.

  The diamond ring likewise fell to the lot of the arch-priest, with thefull permission from the donor to dispose of it as he might think fit,and after an exchange of compliments and civilities, the Englishmen tooktheir departure.

  The duplicity and avarice of the sacristan having now fairly come tolight, he was dismissed, and another chosen to supply his place.Meanwhile the trial of Antonio was going on in the township ofGennazzano. Being summoned to appear as a witness, I was forced to go,and had the satisfaction of being mainly instrumental in the acquittalof my friend, who returned to his native village, where on his arrivalhe was carried in triumph over the heads of the cheering populace.

  The sum presented to the arch-priest, together with the diamond ring,which had been taken to Rome to be estimated and converted into money,was expended by our pastor in alleviating the sufferings of the pooramongst his flock, after which there remained a surplus sufficient topurchase two silver candlesticks for the altar of San Rocco, theprotecting saint of the village.

  Peppe had judiciously hidden himself in the mountains until the fury ofhis patients had considerably abated, but Antonio discovering him oneday, renewed his claim to the three pauls. I forget the excuse he madeon this occasion, but I know for a certainty that the debt was neverrepaid during the whole of my stay in that part of the country.

  Some months passed over without anything worthy of record, but thesequel of this narrative is to come. A friar, unknown to the inhabitantsof our village, appeared one Sunday morning to perform mass in theChurch of San Rocco. His shaven crown, bronzed skin, and high aquilinefeatures made him an object of intense veneration among the devoutcongregation, as being unmistakable signs of a pure and austere life. Hewas a man of middle age, tall, and well knit, his beard on the verge ofturning grey. The features were worn, but energetic, yet a physiognomistmight have observed that the eyes were somewhat small in comparison withthe rest of the face and moved rather too rapidly and furtively fromleft to right than was strictly necessary to complete the physiognomy ofone whose life had been completely devoted to religious contemplation.His arrival had created a sensation in the village, and many who hadnever confessed from one year's end to the other, impelled by curiosity,flocked to the church that day to confess to the stranger monk,imagining, no doubt, that the absolution of one from afar and unknown inthe villages was more valid than that of the arch-priest or any morefamiliar prelate.

  Familiarity breeds contempt, as we all know, therefore we so often findthat Roman Catholics prefer confessing to some priest or friar that theymeet for the first time, and are not likely to meet again, rather thanto their parish priest, to whom the most secret thought of their innerlives is already known.

  Among those who flocked to confess to the stranger monk, whose majesticbearing had impressed everyone with his sanctity, were our two friendsAntonio and Peppe, who, having neither of them confessed for a very longtime, sought this opportunity of disburdening their souls of those sinsthey were ashamed of confessing to a priest of their own native village.

  Antonio, to whom I am indebted for the sequel of this tale, declared tome that he experienced a thrill he was unable to account for as thefriar entered the confessional; but setting this down to nervousness atnot having confessed for so long, he endeavoured to concentrate histhoughts, and began what is called a "general confession," commencingwith the sins of his earliest childhood down to those of recent date.

  Fancying that he might have been guilty of avarice in pressing toohardly on his friend for the debt of the three pauls and of sacrilege inhaving hidden all night in the confessional, and afterwards quarrellingwith his friend over the treasure within the very church itself, itoccurred to him to relate the whole circumstance to the fatherconfessor, not omitting the entry of the brigands and their subsequentfright at what they supposed to be the sudden resurrection of one fromthe dead.

  Now, Antonio during the whole of this confession had his eyes fixed uponthe countenance of his confessor, which he could see distinctly throughthe grating. It struck him from the first that the features of the monkwere familiar to him, yet he could not call to mind where or under whatcircumstances he had seen them before. He had been racking his brain forsome time past in order to recollect where he had ever met him, but tono purpose.

  He observed that when he began enumerating all the peccadilloes of hisearly years the confessor evinced the utmost indifference, yawning everynow and then, and not deigning a reply; but as soon as he began to talkabout the miracle and the treasure abandoned by the brigands in theirfright, he immediately pricked up his ears and changed colour.

  "Eh, what?" he cried, suddenly waking out of a doze. "Just oblige me bybeginning that again, will you?"

  Antonio, though somewhat surprised at the monk's abrupt change ofmanner, nevertheless set it down to the natural interest that soextraordinary a tale inspired, and recommenced his story, detailingnicely every circumstance, especially the feigned death of Peppe; withan exact description of his own feelings at the time.

  Now it happened that Peppe, being in church, and seeing his friend onhis knees at the confessional, thought he could do no less than confesslikewise, so, falling on his knees on the opposite side to his friend,he prepared to pour out his soul through the opposite grating, into theleft ear of the father confessor, as soon as his friend should haverisen from his knees.

  Antonio at length having finished, and received absolution, remained amoment or two in prayer, whilst Peppe took his turn. Whatever thesubject of Peppe's confession might have been, it had an extraordinaryeffect upon t
he monk. He became visibly agitated, and the muscles of hisface twitched nervously.

  "Then it wasn't a miracle, after all," he gasped, throwing himself back,while something strongly resembling an oath rose to his lips, but wasinstantly stifled. His bronzed features had become livid, and hastilygiving his absolution, he hurried from the confessional.

  Our two friends had remained behind the rest of the congregation, and onrising from their knees and finding themselves alone in the church, eachadvanced towards the other in a spirit of Christian forgiveness, andshook his friend warmly by the hand, the subject of the three paulsbeing dropped on this occasion.

  "By the way, Peppe," said Antonio, after a short interchange of genialconversation, "did you ever set eyes on that confessor before, thinkyou?"

  "Well, now you mention it, friend Antonio, his features _do_ seemfamiliar to me, yet I can't call to mind where I have seen him,"answered Peppe.

  "Ah!" suddenly ejaculated Antonio, "I have it. If that monk is not thehead brigand whom you so miraculously scared away by rising from thedead, may I be--shot."

  "_Per Baccounaccio!_ friend Antonio, you're right," exclaimed hisfriend; "it _is_ the very same. I thought I knew him all the while. Wellthis is strange; and we have been confessing to a brigand chief!"

  "True," said Antonio; "but of course you have heard that in consequenceof the supposed miracle, he and the rest of his band became convertedand took holy vows, having received a full pardon from the Pope fortheir past misdeeds. He now performs mass, and therefore his absolutionis worth just as much as that of any other ecclesiastic."

  "Yes, yes; I've no doubt," replied Peppe; "but, I say, Anthony, if youhad but noticed how uncommonly interested he became in the middle of myconfession! That was because I confessed to him the trick I played uponyou, old friend, that night. You remember, eh? Ha! ha! Well, as soon asI began to talk about jumping up from the dead, and how the brigandsscampered away helter-skelter, leaving their treasure behind them intheir flight, I noticed him change colour, and he grew impatient to knowmore. I thought it strange that he should appear to take such interestin the matter. Now I can account for his look of remorse that puzzled meso before. He is angry with himself at being frightened into turningmonk by a sham miracle."

  "I, too, noticed the very same thing, friend Peppe," said Antonio, "whenI likewise confessed the same story. I'll lay my life that he nowrepents him of having turned monk. Perhaps he suspected that werecognised him, and that was the reason he hastened away so afterconfession. I wonder where he is now?"

  The mysterious monk had disappeared; so had the two silver candlestickson the altar. Extraordinary coincidence! Had they also vanished by amiracle?

  They were on the altar when our two friends went to confess, as both ofthem declared. Perhaps the new sacristan had taken them away to cleanafter the departure of the congregation.

  No; the sacristan was questioned, he knew naught but that they werestill on the altar. The affair caused much gossip and surmise, and muchtime was lost in loud talking and angry gesticulations. The arch-priestat length appeared on the spot, and our two friends Antonio and Peppecommunicated to him their suspicions--viz., that the unknown friar, whomboth of them recognised to be no other than the brigand chief himself,had purloined the silver candlesticks immediately after confession, andmade his escape into the mountains. Search was now made for the thief,but the day was already far spent and the monk had had ample time toreach the convent before his pursuers thought of going in search of him.

  On the following day the arch-priest called at the convent in person,acquainted the monks there with his loss, and stated his suspicions. Hewas informed by them that the band of brigands who had only latelybecome converted and had entered their order, and who, up to the presenttime, had shown themselves most exemplary in conduct, to the greatsurprise of their brother monks, had suddenly decamped in the dead ofnight, no one knew how. They had evidently resumed their formerprofession, as they had left their cassocks behind them, and their arms,which had been hung up in the chapel as trophies of their conversion,had been removed.

  The affair of the silver candlesticks was unknown to the rest of theorder, but shortly afterwards a silversmith in Rome, to whose shop ahandsome pair of silver candlesticks was brought for sale, having somescruples at receiving stolen goods, and distrusting much the appearanceof the person who brought them, sent secretly to the police, who took incharge the suspected party. Now it happened about that time in thevicinity of Rome, that a certain band of brigands had been guilty of themost fearful outrages. The police were already on their track, and thecapture of the suspected vendor of stolen goods subsequently led to thediscovery of the whole band, which was soon identified as the samewhich had once received the Pope's pardon and had entered into holyorders. They were accordingly tried, condemned, and executed on thesummit of the fort of St. Angelo, which is built on the ruins of theancient tomb of Hadrian, on the banks of the Tiber.

  * * * * *

  By the time our artist had finished his story, and received Helen's warmeulogium on the same, the sitting had already come to an end. DameHearty now knocked at the door to ask if her daughter could be spared,as she found that she really could not go through her household dutieswithout her.

  "Just one moment," said McGuilp; "there, Helen, just place yourself oncemore as you were, and I shall have finished with you for the day. Justone more touch."

  The artist then began working rapidly for some ten minutes, as if hislife were at stake, when suddenly throwing himself back in his chair, asif exhausted after some stupendous effort, he exclaimed: "There now!"

  These magical words were the signal for Helen's liberation, and now bothmother and daughter placed themselves behind the artist's chair andproceeded to criticise his work.

  "Oh my! what a love of a pictur'!" exclaimed Dame Hearty; "and howexactly like our Helen. Oh, if ever! Well I never! I do declare," etc.

  "And how you have improved it this sitting! Why, last time I thoughtthere was no more to do to it, but now it is life itself."

  "You flatter me, Helen," said McGuilp; "for I assure you that theportrait is still in a most crude and unfinished state."

  "How say you?--still unfinished?" cried Helen. "Well, if you go on atthat rate, by next sitting I shall expect to hear it speak."

  "Come, Helen," said her mother, "we must be off, for we have no time tolose. Another time, when we have less to do, I shall be most happy tolet you assist the gentleman to finish his pictur'," and curtseying toMcGuilp, she led her daughter out of the room, while the painter wasleft to the uninspired operations of cleaning his palette and brushes,and putting his studio in order previous to joining the other members ofthe club.

  FOOTNOTES:

  [7] A paul is half a franc.

  [8] A corruption of the word _compare_ (godfather) which is used as afamiliar appellation among the peasantry, even when no such relationsexists between them.

  [9] Paini, the grade between a peasant and a gentleman.

  [10] A sort of pudding made of chestnut flour.

  [11] A species of cake made of Indian corn, used much among the Italianpeasantry, being cheaper than bread.

  [12] A paul is half a franc, and equal to five pence.

  [13] Padrone, master.

  [14] Oh, my holy souls of Purgatory!

  [15] Body of St. Anthony of Padua!

  [16] A corruption of per Cristo.

  [17] It is the custom in Roman Catholic countries for the dead to beexposed in the centre of the church for twenty-four hours upon a bier,with a candle burning.

  [18] To your Lordship.

  [19] A halfpenny.

 

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