“But then——”
“But then, but then; when we have arrived safely there, we shall be very glad, that’s all. It is well known that this signor thinks of nothing now but doing good to others, and he will afford us an asylum with the greatest pleasure. There, on the frontiers, and almost in the sky, the soldiers will not trouble us. But then—but then, we shall have enough to eat, no doubt. On the top of the mountains, the provisions we have here with us would not serve us long.”
“Is it true that he is really converted?”
“Can you doubt it, after all you have seen?”
“And if, after all, we should be voluntarily placing ourselves in prison?”
“What prison? With this trifling, excuse me, we shall never come to any conclusion. Worthy Agnes! your plan is an excellent one.” So saying, she placed the basket on the table, and having passed her arms through the straps, swung it over her shoulders.
“Could we not procure,” said Don Abbondio, “some man to accompany us? Should we encounter some ruffian on the way, what assistance would you be to me?”
“Not done yet! always losing time!” cried Perpetua. “Go then, and look for a man, and you will find every one engaged in his own business, I warrant you. Come, take your breviary, and your hat, and let us be off.”
Don Abbondio was obliged to obey, and they departed. They passed through a small door into the churchyard. Perpetua closed it from custom; not for the security it could now give. Don Abbondio cast a look towards the church,—“It is for the people to guard it,” thought he; “it is their church: let them see to it, if they have the heart.” They took the by-paths through the fields, but were in continual apprehension of encountering some one, who might arrest their progress. They met no one, however; all were employed, either in guarding their houses, or packing their furniture, or travelling, with their moveables, towards the mountains.
Don Abbondio, after many sighs and interjections, began to grumble aloud: he complained of the Duke of Nevers, who could have remained to enjoy himself in France, had he not been determined to be Duke of Mantua, in despite of all the world; of the emperor, and above all, of the governor, whose duty it was to keep this scourge from the country, and not invoke it by his taste for war.