“What does the signor curate say to the disasters of the times? I can fancy I’m reading the history of the Moors in France,” said the tailor.
“What do I say? That even that misfortune might have befallen me,” replied Don Abbondio.
“You have chosen an excellent asylum, however; for none can ascend those heights without the consent of the master. You will find a numerous company there. Many people have already fled thither, and there are fresh arrivals every day.”
“I dare to hope we shall be well received. I know this worthy signor: when I had the honour to be in his company he was all politeness.”
“And,” said Agnes, “he sent me word by his illustrious lordship, that if ever I should need assistance, I had only to apply to him.”
“What a wonderful conversion!” resumed Don Abbondio. “And he perseveres? does he not persevere?”
The tailor spoke at length of the holy life of the Unknown, and said, that after having been the scourge of the country, he had become its best example and benefactor.
“And the people of his household—that band?” asked Don Abbondio, who had heard some contradictory stories concerning them, and did not feel, therefore, quite secure.
“The greater part have left him,” replied the tailor, “and those who have remained have changed their manner of life; in short, this castle has become like the Thebaid. The signor curate understands me.”
Then retracing with Agnes the visit of the cardinal, “What a great man!” said he, “a great man, indeed! what a pity he remained so short a time with us! I wished to do him honour. Oh, if I had only been able to address him again, more at my leisure!”