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Renzo learnt, moreover, to pronounce the name of Don Ferrante

properly; Agnes, it is true, had caused it to be written to him,

but Heaven knows how it was written; and the Bergamascan

interpreter had given it so strange a sound, that if he had not

received some instruction from his friend, probably no one in

Milan would have guessed whom he meant, although this was the

only clue he had to guide him to Lucy. As far as the law was in

question his mind was set at rest. The signor Podestà was dead,

and most of the officers; the others were removed, or had other

matters too pressing to occupy their attention. He related, in

his turn, his own adventures to his friend, receiving in exchange

an account of the passage of the army, the pestilence, the

poisoners, and the prodigies. "Dreadful as are our afflictions,"

said he, as he led him for the night to a little chamber which

the epidemic had deprived of its inhabitants, "there is a

mournful consolation in speaking of them to our friends."