صفحة 171 من 1118

"If I speak to you of your debt," said Renzo, "it is because I

intend to give you the means of paying it."

"Do you really?"

"Really; would this content you?"

"Content me! that it would, indeed; if it were only to be freed

from those infernal shakings of the head the curate makes me

every time I meet him. And then always, '_Tony, remember; Tony,

when shall we see each other for this business?_' When he

preaches, he fixes his eyes on me in such a manner, I am almost

afraid he will speak to me from the pulpit. I have wished the

twenty-five livres to the devil a thousand times: and I was

obliged to pawn my wife's gold necklace, which might be turned

into so much polenta. But--"

"But, if you will do me a small favour, the twenty-five livres

are ready."

"Agreed."

"But," said Renzo, "you must be silent and talk to no one about

it."

"Need you tell me that?" said Tony; "you know me."