"Gone? Left? What! both of them?"
"Both of them."
"They did not pass through this door-way then?"
"No, sir. They left the sacristy by a side-door."
"Confound it! Baffled!" exclaimed my uncle with a gesture of impatience, and stamping his foot. "After all this waiting, too! What are we to do, Frank?"
"Do you want very much to see this old man?" said Paolo. "Perhaps," and he looked around, as if to see that no priest were by—"perhaps I may be able to help you."
"Help us?" said my uncle. "Good! You will be the very man for our purpose. Ah!" he continued, as he saw the fellow's face gleam with the hope of a reward, "you worship the golden calf, I see. We understand each other. What is your name?"
"Paolo."
"Paolo, eh? None other? Perhaps you prefer a single name. The great men of Greece had but one. Well, Paolo, you must know every face in this little town. Tell us whether this old man is an inhabitant of Rivoli."
"He is a complete stranger to me," replied the attendant. "I have never seen his face till this morning."