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Don Abbondio and the Unknown were left alone in the apartment;

the latter was absorbed in his own thoughts, impatient for the

moment to arrive when he should take his Lucy from sorrow and

prison; for she was indeed his Lucy, but in a sense very

different from the preceding night. His countenance expressed

concentrated agitation, which to the suspicious eye of Don

Abbondio appeared something worse: he looked at him with a desire

to begin a friendly conversation. "But what can I say to him?"

thought he. "Shall I repeat to him that I rejoice? I rejoice! at

what? That having been a demon, he has formed the resolution to

become an honest man? A pretty salutation, indeed! Eh! eh!

however I should arrange my words, my I rejoice would signify

nothing else! And can one believe that he has become an honest

man all in a moment! Assertions prove nothing; it is so easy to

make them! But, nevertheless, I must go with him to the castle!

Oh! who would have told me this, this morning! Oh!