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"I thank you," replied Renzo; "I only came to say a few words to

Tony; and, Tony, not to disturb your family, we can go and dine

at the inn, and we shall then have an opportunity to converse."

The proposal was as agreeable as it was unexpected. Tony readily

assented to it, and departed with Renzo, leaving to his family

his portion of the polenta. They arrived at the inn, seated

themselves at their ease in a perfect solitude, since the penury

of the times had driven away the daily frequenters of the place.

After having eaten, and emptied a bottle of wine, Renzo, with an

air of mystery, said to Tony, "If you will do me a small service,

I will do you a great one."

"Speak, speak, command me," said Tony, filling his glass; "I will

go through fire to serve you."

"You are twenty-five livres in debt to the curate, for the rent

of his field, that you worked last year."

"Ah! Renzo, Renzo! why do you mention it to me now? You've

spoiled your kindness, and put to flight my good wishes."