I called on the abbé again in the evening, for I felt anxious to learn in what way I had offended the lord borgello, to whom I thought I was quite unknown. The abbé satisfied me.
“The borgello,” said he, “saw your name on the bill which he receives daily containing a list of the names of those who enter or leave the city. He remembered that you were daring enough to escape from The Leads, and as he does not at all approve of that sort of thing he resolved not to let the Modenese be contaminated by so egregious an example of the defiance of justice, however unjust it may be; and in short he has given you the order to leave the town.”
“I am much obliged, but I really wonder how it is that while you were telling me this you did not blush to be a subject of the Duke of Modena’s. What an unworthy action! How contrary is such a system of government to all the best interests of the state!”
“You are quite right, my dear sir, but I am afraid that as yet men’s eyes are not open to what best serves their interests.”
“That is doubtless due to the fact that so many men are unworthy.”
“I will not contradict you.”
“Farewell, abbé.”
“Farewell, M. Casanova.”
Next morning, just as I was going to get into my carriage, a young man between twenty-five and thirty, tall and strong and broad shouldered, his eyes black and glittering, his eyebrows strongly arched, and his general air being that of a cut-throat, accosted me and begged me to step aside and hear what he had to say.
“If you like to stop at Parma for three days, and if you will promise to give me fifty sequins when I bring you the news that the borgello is dead, I promise to shoot him within the next twenty-four hours.”