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Occupied with such reflections, and noticing from time to time as

more people came up loaded with plunder, he proceeded to the

convent.

The church and convent of the capuchins was situated in the

centre of a small square, shaded by elm trees; Renzo placed in

his bosom his remaining half loaf, and with his letter in his

hand, approached the gate and rung the bell. At a small grated

window appeared the face of a friar, porter to the convent, to

ask "who was there?"

"One from the country, who brings a letter to Father Bonaventura,

from Father Christopher."

"Give here," said the friar, thrusting his hand through the

grate.

"No, no," said Renzo, "I must give it into his own hands."

"He is not in the convent."

"Suffer me to enter and wait for him," replied Renzo.