Chapter III (1)

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

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

They are curious places, those Italian villages, with their tall, narrow houses and small windows, built up the slant of a mountain like steps of stairs. Their quaint roofs, balconies, arches, and buttresses, with at every step some rustic shrine containing a rude painting or representation of the Virgin Mary (the Madonna as they call her) or other saint. The narrow, dirty, ill-paved streets, the tumbling-down houses, from the windows of which the picturesque but dirty inhabitants may almost shake hands with one another across the road.

Then the odd nooks and angles in the by-streets that meet the stranger's eye on either hand as he ascends the uneven and slippery path-way leading to the highest point of view, which is generally crowned by some ruined 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 verbal description is inadequate to give the faintest idea of their extreme picturesqueness. They require to be seen, and when this is impossible, a picture or sketch must give the next best idea of them to the mind of the stranger. I have several studies in oil-colour of these places within 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 how simple their costume is! Well, but to proceed: the village where I was staying, when the fact that I am about to relate occurred, was one of the sort you see here. Ah! here is a sketch of the very place, and there is the name of it written underneath. I remember that it had a certain celebrity in the country round about it, as the cathedral (!) in the chief piazza or square boasted of a miraculous picture of the Madonna, that had the reputation of turning up its eyes, and in this manner contrived to heal great numbers among the faithful who were blind, deaf and dumb, maimed, halt, or lame.

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

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

The inn was frequented almost entirely by artists. Sometimes we were a large company, composed of all nations, when we would dine together "al fresco" under the shade of the vine which formed a verandah on one side of the house. At other times I would be left alone in the inn. The hill on which I lived commanded an extensive view of the surrounding mountains, including the township with its old ivy-grown tower overlooking all, and which appeared as if it were sliding down the mountain side.

I experienced an indescribable feeling of delight in rambling alone through this romantic scenery on a hot summer's day, beneath a perfectly cloudless sky, without a breath of wind to rustle the leaves of the shady trees, amidst a solitude like that of the desert, and a silence unbroken save by the chirping of the birds and the chattering of the cicala, or at intervals, perchance, the distant shepherd's pipe, or the wild barbaric chant of the mountaineer. With what rapture, I remember, would I step from crag to crag, trampling the bush and bramble under my feet, and startling away the green lizards in my path! Quaffing the beauties of nature at every step, the dreamy influence of the balmy atmosphere intensifying my feelings for the beautiful to an abnormal degree.

It was on one of these sultry days during my rambles that I was taking shelter from the burning sun under the shade of a wide-spreading oak, reclining lazily on the soft moss, and listening to the chirping of the grass-hoppers, when my ear was attracted by the sound of the bleating of goats, and shortly afterwards I heard the voices of two peasants which seemed familiar to me. They were discoursing together in the dialect of their own village, a very different lingo from the pure Tuscan, and perfectly unintelligible to one lately coming from Rome, yet a prolonged stay in these parts rendered it familiar to me. I recognised the voices as belonging, one of them to a goatherd who supplied me with milk in the morning, the other to a peasant who possessed a vineyard, a small barrel of whose wine I had bought the day before.

"Ohe! Antonio," cried Guiseppe, the goatherd, to his friend, "so I hear you have sold a _quarteruolo_ of wine to the Signor Inglese (the English gentleman) 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, like one of our '_paini_.'[9] These Englishmen are real gentlemen--they let themselves be cheated without wincing. Those are the sort of men I like to deal with. I was quite angry with myself afterwards at not having asked four times the sum; he would be sure to have paid me."

"_Accidente!_ what a swindler!" exclaimed Guiseppe. "Well, they tell me these English roll in wealth; that gold is as common in their country as beans here. They say the streets are paved with it. How I should like to go to those parts, and come back with my pockets filled with the gold that these idiots throw away like dross. I wouldn't fatigue myself all day 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 me sober again until the day of my death. If I could sell my milk to the Englishman 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 milk isn't to be had in his country."

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

"Yes, I have heard so, too," answered Antonio, "and that they have no wine in their country. Well, upon the whole, I'd sooner live where I am."

"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 with it?" replied Antonio. "I am very well content to live by the sale of my wine----"

"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 fool if I didn't."

"Well, Compar, I suppose we are all much alike in that; but don't you think 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 able to pay me?"

"Well, I make two pauls a day by the sale of my milk and go halves with my _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 to gull the Englishman, I may pay you sooner," responded the goatherd.

"Ah! Peppe," said Antonio, "I know you to be a slippery customer. How am I 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 me up! 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 three pauls. 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 upon yourself be fulfilled."

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

It was past midday when I rose from my mossy couch and sauntered leisurely home, where, having partaken of a light lunch, I continued working upon my picture--a large landscape--until sundown. I was at that time the only guest at the inn, and I have no doubt that mine host and his 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, and when not occupied with writing home I was in the habit of joining the family circle after supper, when they entertained me with the gossip of the village and stories of brigands, by whom the country was much infested, while I, in return for their information, related to them many things about my own country, my travels, etc. The conversation that I had overheard that morning, however, between the goatherd and his friend I 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 simple seeming peasantry rather amused than annoyed me. And as for the simple incident of one peasant borrowing three pauls from another, it was a fact so uninteresting to me, that I never gave the matter a second thought.

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

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

The figure had descended the hill, reached the road, and was then making towards me. I had now no difficulty in recognising my friend of whom I had bought the wine. He appeared to be anything but in good spirits, for he 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 with swindling me in good round terms, but with the fresh morning air in my face and the enchanting landscape around me, I felt in no humour to quarrel with anyone. I thought, however, I would make him aware that I knew 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 a smile.

"You seem a little out of spirits, eh?" said I. "Now, what would you say if 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 your mind. You have just come from the house of Guiseppe the goatherd, and you are disappointed because he has not paid you the three pauls that he promised 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 tell you more? If I could tell you the day and the hour that you lent the three pauls to your friend? What would you say if I told you it was last Tuesday week in the forenoon, and how you first hesitated to lend the money, having some doubt as to your friend's integrity, but how, after having invoked certain curses on his own head in default of his not being able to pay, you at length yielded, and lent him the three pauls?"

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

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

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

"Ha! say you so?" said I. "I will even venture to prophecy that you will never get the three pauls."

"Oh, pray don't say that, Signor. Pray don't say that I shall _never_ be paid. 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 love me? 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 not asked me four times the sum, as, being an Englishman, you thought to get it out of me."

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

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

"That is most true," replied the peasant. "Eccellenza has spoken like the preacher," and seizing my hand, he kissed it, and was about to proceed 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 back again when I return this evening," said I.

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

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

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

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

"The next day (that was yesterday) I called again, and his wife informed me that her husband had caught the fever, and was dangerously ill. She hoped, however, that it would soon pass over, and he would be able to pay me as he had promised. I went again this morning to Peppe's house as usual for the money, when his wife came out to me with tears in her eyes, to inform me that her husband died last night. I began to lose patience, and said that, dead or alive, I meant to have my three pauls back; and off I went, cursing and swearing. It was then that your Excellency met me."

As Antonio finished speaking we had already arrived at our camping place, and I commenced arranging my painting materials. The latter part of Antonio's narrative immensely amused me, as I had both seen and spoken to Peppe that morning early when he brought the milk as usual to the 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 him not 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. I suppose something like a smile must have passed over my countenance at the idea of Peppe pretending to be dead, in order to get off paying three pauls, for Antonio, eyeing me narrowly, said,

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

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

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

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

"I'll go to his house again, though, if your Excellency can dispense with my services for the present," said Antonio, "in the hopes of catching 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 for myself if the bed is empty or no."

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

Off started Antonio, as fleetly as the wind, and before I could have thought 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 tried the door, but it was locked, and there was no one within. I peeped through the window, but could not catch a glimpse of the bed. I descended the hill in a rage, when at some little distance, I saw Peppe's wife. I ran to her and told her that I wanted to speak to her husband, as I had found out that he was living. She persisted in saying that 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 hill again to show me the corpse. That if I didn't choose to believe her, I needn't.

"'Give me the key of the house, then,' said I, 'that I may go in and satisfy 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 were a couple of swindlers, who had schemed to defraud me of my money. Then she burst into tears again, and said that if I really wished to be convinced that her husband was dead, I might go to the church myself this evening, where the corpse of her husband would be lying in state,[17] and that I might hide myself in one of the confessionals, and watch all night to see if he moved at all, and that if he stirred ever so little, never to believe her again.

"Now, you see, Eccellenza, how artful women are. She hopes in that way to intimidate me and to make me believe that her husband is dead in real earnest. She fancies that I would be frightened to spend a whole night inside the church with a corpse, and that I won't go. If, then, I should call at her house to-morrow she would be sure to tell me that her husband was already buried. I do not for a moment believe that her husband 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 tell her that I passed the night in the church, and there was no corpse to be seen."

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

As we were discoursing together Antonio suddenly broke short his discourse.

"Hark, Signor!" he cried. "Do you hear? Those are death-bells that are tolling in the village. Can someone really have died, or has Peppe's wife 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 been tolling the bell this morning," said Antonio, "and if that knave of a Peppe is not dead yet, may I die of an accident if I don't worry him to the death. You must know, Eccellenza, that three pauls to us poor devils is a consideration, unimportant though the sum may be _alla vostra Signoria_.[18] What a conscience the man must have to try and swindle me out of what I lent him in friendship, after swearing to me on his word of honour and invoking all sorts of curses on his own head if he failed to pay me on the day he promised! Had not your Excellency positively assured me that he still lives, I should be inclined to think that he had died in real earnest, as a punishment for his broken faith."

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

In order to proceed with my narrative, I must pass on to the following day. Feeling slightly indisposed from a fever on waking that morning--nothing serious, but just enough to prevent me from painting out-of-doors, as I had intended--I kept my bed later than usual, and called to my landlady to bring me a basin of broth.

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

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

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

"Ah! Signor, you do not believe in miracles," said the hostess; "but how will you deny _this_? Just hear. You may not have heard, perhaps, that poor Peppe the goatherd died suddenly of a fever, and was laid out in the church, where he remained all last night. Some robber, towards the morning, broke into the church, and would have robbed the alms-box. He had succeeded in unscrewing it from the wall and bursting it open--at least, I presume so, for how else could he have got to the money?--and was 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 came from, for only yesterday when I put in a _baiocco_[19] myself, the sound it made showed me that it was all but empty. Well, as I was saying, he was counting his gains by the light of the candle, placed at the head of the 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 sacrilegious miscreant as in a vice until the sacristan entered the church to light the candles. You may imagine, Signor, the dismay of the sacristan at seeing the corpse that had been laid out in the church all the previous evening, now resuscitated, and holding in his grasp the wretch who had attempted to defraud the church of the alms that pious souls had given to support her.

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

"'A miracle! a miracle!' cried the sacristan, at length. 'Behold the Virgin 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 last evening?'

"Here the sacristan broke in.

"'A miracle, Signor _Arciprete_, a miracle! a most undeniable miracle. I caught 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 save her holy church from being violated by sacrilegious hands.'

"The good Peppe, still holding fast the robber, informed the arch-priest and the congregation that every word the sacristan had spoken was true; that he had been dead, but had been miraculously called back to life again 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 he tried to free himself from the iron grasp of the resuscitated corpse. 'Impostor! knave! swindler,' he called out, nearly suffocated by the firm grip of Peppe.

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

"'There is some mystery that I am as yet unable to comprehend. I am informed by the sacristan that he discovered the burglar in the act of robbing the alms-box of the church, and the money on the ground that you all see, he avers to have been taken out of the alms-box. Now, in order to extract the money from the alms-box the thief must previously have broken 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 emptied only 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 paper money; and that diamond ring I see, whence is that? I think it will be found that the heap of money on the ground will be too large a sum to enter into the box. If it cannot enter, how could it have come out of it?'

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

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

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

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

Having concluded her narrative, my worthy hostess perceived something like a smile of incredulity on my countenance, which seemed rather to irritate her. However, I comforted her by saying that I would investigate the matter myself, and if, after a careful and strict inquiry, I could not account for the whole matter by natural causes, I would then become as much a believer in the miracle as she was herself.

This seemed to pacify her, and she encouraged me in seeking every possible means to disprove it. Accordingly, in an hour's time I was up and dressed, and bending my steps towards the township. Part of this curious tale I had already accounted for in my own mind. That Peppe had not been dead, but had feigned to be so, that I knew. The supposed robber I concluded must be Antonio. I supposed that the latter, having discovered at length the imposition practised upon him by his companion, a quarrel had ensued, in the midst of which they had been surprised by the sacristan; but I could guess no more than this.

The affair of the treasure being found in the church completely puzzled me, and my curiosity being aroused, I set straight off to the house of the arch-priest, whom I knew intimately, to hear either the confirmation or 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, I stopped and inquired as to the truth of the rumour that had spread so quickly throughout the village. He put on a sanctified look, crossed his hands upon his breast, and rolled up the white of his eyes, solemnly declaring that every word I had heard was true, that he himself had been an 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 his feet to swallow him up, if what he spoke was not the truth. He then took his leave.

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

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

"Ah! Signor Vandyke," he said--you are always called by your Christian name 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 have been hard at work as usual, I suppose, eh?"

I replied that I had given myself a holiday for once in a way, not feeling in a humour for work, and had called upon him for the purpose of inquiring into the truth of a reported miracle in the village. Hereupon he beckoned me upstairs, made me sit down at a table, and pouring out for me a tumbler of his own wine from a huge jug, he proceeded to fill another for himself; then tapping his snuff-box, a priest's inseparable companion, and taking from it a copious pinch wherewith to clear his brain, this dignitary recited to me the whole story of the miracle, differing in little or nothing from the other accounts that I had heard of it. Knowing him to be a thoroughly trustworthy and conscientious man, I felt sure that he would not willingly deceive me; but fancying he might in some way or other have been deceived himself, I proceeded to cross-question him, though I could not find that he contradicted himself in anything.

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

"I can only vouch for what I saw. The resuscitated corpse was holding the accused in his grasp, while I had the sacristan's word that the corpse had suddenly become re-animated under his very eyes, and had seized the burglar after he had succeeded in extracting the money from the alms-box. I must confess I am puzzled at the whole of that sum having been extracted from the coffer, when, with the greatest pains the sacristan 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 wonderful part, for who wears diamonds in these mountains?"

I was now perfectly sure of one thing namely, that the treasure had never been extracted from the alms-box at all, but had been found in some other manner. The testimony of the sacristan, as I have said before, weighed little or nothing with me. So far from it, indeed, that I began to see more clearly than ever that there had been some trick or imposture, at the bottom of which was the sacristan himself.

I did not give the arch-priest the result of my reflections, but restrained myself until I should obtain further evidence. We had discoursed for full a couple of hours on the subject, and when I rose to depart I told him that I was as complete a sceptic as before, as far as the miraculous character of the event was concerned, though I placed every reliance in his statement. I said I was perfectly sure of unveiling the mystery before long, and when I had done so I should at once let him know.

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

"Locked up, to be sure; ready to be taken to-morrow to Gennazzano, there to 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 to admit you. Just one moment,--here--with this pass they will let you enter."

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

It was now growing towards evening as I hastened my steps towards the lock-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 the cell 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 to hear all about the miracle that happened this morning."

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

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

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

"Come," said I, consolingly, "you must not look so gloomily at things. I will do what I can to get you off, but you must tell me exactly how the whole 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 door with his bunch of keys the while, he began his story thus:--

"You will remember, Eccellenza, that before parting from you last, I informed you of my intention of concealing myself within the confessional of the church and to remain there all night, for the purpose of observing attentively if the would-be corpse of Peppe there laid 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, about three hours after Ave Maria--I entered the church, and there was my late friend attired as a corpse with a candle left burning at his head, as is the custom, you know, Signor, in these parts. I approached him, though not without a certain tremor, for to me there has always been something solemn and awful in being left alone with the dead, especially at midnight when the corpse is laid out in state in the middle of the church, with nothing but the feeble light of one candle to illumine its ghastly features.

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

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

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

"All was silent as the tomb, and as I gazed in breathless suspense, hour after hour flew by, till at length I heard the old church clock toll forth the dread hour of midnight. The last stroke had hardly died away--How shall I describe to you my terror, oh, Signor?--when suddenly I heard the church doors violently shaken. You know how nervous one becomes in the dead of the night at hearing any sort of noise unexpectedly that one cannot account for. Imagine, then, my sensations, Eccellenza, if you can, when, hidden within the confessional at this witching hour of night, with every nerve on the stretch, and looking out into the solemn gloom of the church, illumined only by the solitary candle placed at the head of the corpse--when all honest peasants, with their families, were in bed and fast asleep, and the greatest silence reigned everywhere, suddenly to hear a bang and a crash at the old church doors, which soon gave way--you know how rotten they are, Signor--and there entered, cursing and swearing, a troop of--well, upon my soul, Signor, I took them to be emissaries of the arch-fiend, sent to secure the soul of the defunct.

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

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

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

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

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

"'Now, my men,' said he after an equal portion had been allotted to each, '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 high estimation I hold fair play, and how loath I am to possess even a _baiocco_ more than my valiant companions without deserving it, I will award this ring to the man who shall first succeed in hitting yon corpse on the nose with it, I myself taking share in the pastime, and as captain of the band claiming for myself the first shot.'

"Enthusiastic cheers greeted this decision of their chief, and the game began. The captain had the first throw, but missed. Then a second picked up the ring and also threw, but missed likewise. Then a third, with the same result, and so on, till the seventh, who, more dextrous than the rest, hit the corpse such a stinging whack on the nose that it suddenly jumped up, shook its head, extended its arms, and leaped down from the bier.

"You see, the rascal had been shamming, after all, sir, and, wearied out with feigning death, had actually gone to sleep. Now, although I was half prepared for such a resuscitation, the effect upon me was electrical; but I recovered from my surprise soon enough to enjoy the confusion of the brigands, who in their terror and dismay at what they took to be a miracle wrought by the saints on purpose to punish their impious conduct, took to their heels, stumbling over one another in their flight, and letting drop all their treasure on the ground unheeded, scampered out of the church as fast as their legs could carry them.

"I was infinitely amused at the fright and discomfiture of these lawless ruffians, and at another time should have laughed heartily at their sudden dispersion, but my rage at having been imposed upon, and the thoughts of vengeance I harboured against my false friend somewhat damped my mirth. No sooner were the brigands safely out of the church than Peppe, who was now sufficiently wide awake to comprehend the situation, after closing the church doors carefully, proceeded to spread a large handkerchief on the ground and to collect together all the gold and silver that had rolled about into every corner of the church, and which 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 hoped to swindle me out of my three pauls?'

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

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

"'Three pauls!' he exclaimed. 'How on earth should I possess so contemptible a sum? Come, sit down here, and we will divide this goodly treasure 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 was nothing more than fair, nor did I thank Peppe for inviting me to take my share of it. Chance had thrown it in our way, and therefore I was entitled to the half of it.

"Nevertheless, I did not consider myself obliged to cancel my friend's debt because of the good fortune that had befallen us, but was determined that he should still pay me the three pauls out of his share when the whole should be divided, for the principle of the thing, for I am very punctilious as to principle, especially when my interests are affected.

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

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

"'Peace, blasphemer!' cried I. 'Do you think to befool me again with your 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 not sharp enough to suspect your plot from the very beginning, knowing what sort of character I had to deal with? Do you imagine I couldn't see through 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 been slightly in liquor, and saw double.'

"'And do you think that I did not observe that worn out with feigning death 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, you must have been _very strongly_ in liquor.'

"'No more in liquor than you,' I cried, with some vehemence. 'That you were 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 strike terror among the brigands, who, imagining no doubt, what you would like me also to believe--viz., that a miracle had been wrought to bring you back to life again, took to their heels and left their treasure behind them.

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

"'Come now, old fellow,' said he, gaily, and with most provoking good humour, '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 I am usually unlucky,' I replied, firmly.

"'Then we'll settle it between ourselves as the brigands did. If I hit you on the nose with it, it is mine. If you can hit me with it, it shall be 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 you are determined by hook or by crook to keep the ring all to yourself.'