What if she should have totally misconstrued this weak, uncertain nature? What if she should have misinterpreted this character so full of indecision? How, if this would-be priest were to turn out one reckless in daring, and indifferent to all consequences? How, if the next tidings she were to hear of him were from some far-away country: some scene that might show how cheaply he held the tinsel decoration of a mock station, the miserable pretension to a rank he was never to enjoy! ‘At all events,’ said he, ‘they shall have matter for their speculations, and shall not see me for some days to come!’ And with this determination—rather like the resolve of a pettish child than of a grown man—he sauntered into the mill, where the miller was now busily engaged.
‘Your master’s despatches have nothing very pressing in them, I see,’ said the miller; I scarcely thought to have met you this morning.’
‘I have ample time at my disposal,’ said Gerald; ‘so that I can reach St. Stephano some day within the coming week I shall be soon enough; insomuch that I have half a mind to gratify the curiosity you have excited in me and make a short ramble through the mountains yonder.’
‘Nay, nay, leave that track to your left hand; follow the road by the head of Lago Scuro, and don’t run your neck into peril for nothing.’
‘But you told me last night this Pastore was never cruel when it served no purpose: that he was far readier to help a poor man than to rifle him. What should I fear then?’
‘That he might look into the palm of your hand and see that it was one not much used to daily labour. If he but thought you a spy, per Bacco! I ‘d not be in your shoes for all the jewels in the Vatican!’
‘Couldn’t you manage to disguise me as one of your own people, and give me some sort of a letter for him?’
‘By the way, there is a letter for him these four days back,’ said the miller suddenly;’ and I have had no opportunity of sending it on.’
‘There, then, is the very thing we want,’ broke in Gerald.
‘Here’s the letter here,’ said the miller, taking the document from the leaves of a book. ‘It comes from the Ursuline Convent, on the other side of the Tiber. Strange enough that the Pastore should have correspondence with the holy ladies of St. Ursula. It was a monk, too, that fetched it here, and his courage failed him to go any farther. Indeed, I believe that picture of the Capri pass decided him on turning back.’