I drew back the bed-curtains, being scarcely able to believe my ears, and I was going to rise, that I might know what to think of it; when in rushed the merchant’s whole family, wife, children, and servants, all speaking together, and repeating what I had heard before: I requested the wife to explain the meaning of all this. “It means,” said she “that the Bargello is expected in the course of an hour, with one of the thieves in his custody: he sent one of his attendants forward to give Pompey notice of it, who is dressing himself that he may wait upon you.” My host was not slow in bringing this man before me, to whom I put some questions, and he informed me, “that the thief who was taken was he who had sustained the character of Guzman.”
This news revived me a little, and I began to flatter myself, that I should recover at least a part of my effects, since we had apprehended the thief. Pompey also indulged the same hopes, and the whole family evinced the greatest joy at this fortunate event. I gave a pistole to the man who had ridden all the way at full gallop to bring me the news; and hastened to dress myself, that I might recognize the scoundrel who had personated me. Pompey also prepared to accompany me, that he might speak to the magistrates in my favour.
While we were conversing on the subject, a servant came to inform us, that the Bargello was at the door on horseback, and that his myrmidons were conveying the thief to prison. The merchant sent a request to the Provost that he would alight and favour us with his company up stairs.
The Bargello, as great a scoundrel as ever was born, marched in with an air of triumph. First of all he related to us the intrepid manner in which he had secured the thief, and made me quite impatient by long digressions which did little honour to his modesty. I interrupted his heroic recital, to inquire what was of most importance to me to know, namely, whether he could give me any information respecting my money. “As for the money,” said he, with an air of great nonchalance, “he had about him but five and twenty pistoles: which is not much to be wondered at. Though he played the chief character in the piece, he is not at the head of the gang. That honour belongs to a certain Alexander Bentivoglio, of whom I have heard but too often: and who may yet some day fall into my clutches; however,” continued he, “console yourself: the scoundrel who is the cause of your misfortune is in our power, and I promise you that he shall be hung.” I could scarcely repress my rage at this impertinent discourse. I fairly wished them all at the devil together. The Provost who talked to me in that manner,—his man who had cost me a pistole,—and the merchant who, by his imprudence, had placed me in this embarrassing situation. I began to be angry in good earnest. The Bargello perceiving that so far from thinking of rewarding him as he expected, I was highly dissatisfied, took his leave very much displeased with my Lordship; and telling Pompey that if he had known that I should have received his services so ungratefully, he should not have taken much trouble about the affair.
As soon as he was gone, Pompey called for his cloak, and expressed an intimation of going to solicit the judges. As for me, I had a great curiosity to see the thief who was in prison, and having repaired thither, it was with no small astonishment that I recognized Sayavedra; though he had been accurately described to me. He threw himself at my feet the moment he saw me. He was as pale as death, and earnestly begged me to pardon him. “My dear Signor Don Guzman,” cried he, drowned in tears, “have pity on a wretch who sincerely repents having betrayed you.” He was going on in this strain, for he had prepared a long harangue to excite my pity; but I did not allow him time to say more. I loaded him with reproaches; but even while I thus reviled him I felt my anger growing weaker every moment. All the feelings of indignation which agitated me gave way insensibly to emotions of pity, which I should have been weak enough to have suffered him to perceive, had I not hastened from the presence of a traitor, who would at least have been condemned to the galleys, if the administrators of justice in Sienna had acted with a little wholesome severity.
The judges of that period however, as you will soon perceive, acted as a thousand others have done before them, and ten thousand since. The next day they sent to me one of their clerks to propose that I should bind myself to prosecute the prisoner. I answered that I should be very ready to do it, provided that they would engage that my lost property should be restored to me; but that otherwise I would not: that I did not wish for the death of the offender, and that hanging him would not at all replenish my purse; in short that I wished for nothing but my money and my clothes, and that I had given up all hopes of them, since they were in too good hands for me to have any chance of regaining them. The clerk had no sooner reported to the judges what I said, than considering that there was no more spoil to be gleaned from this affair, except the pistoles which they had taken from the thief they had secured, they satisfied themselves with condemning him to the pillory for two or three hours, and perpetual banishment from Sienna. These upright magistrates urged in defence of so mild a punishment, that as the culprit had no marks of branding on his shoulders, it was a proof that he had never been guilty before, and that consequently he deserved some indulgence. A pretty reason this for suffering a professed thief to escape! And is it not a most judicious arrangement to banish him from the country where he had robbed? It was as if they had said to him, “Go friend, and rob elsewhere.”
I did not yet know what punishment the judges intended to impose on Sayavedra, and I was at dinner with Pompey, when one his servants, who had heard the sentence pronounced, rushed into the room quite out of breath, and cried out with as much apparent satisfaction, as if he had announced the restoration of my property: “Huzza! Signor Don Guzman, the thief who has robbed you, is condemned to the Pillory and the iron collar, and he is just now going to be fastened into it. It will be your own fault if you do not witness his punishment.” I regretted at this moment that this fool was not my own servant, and that I was not at liberty to knock his teeth down his throat for it; for if ever I was tempted to strike a man, it was upon this occasion. I was obliged however to endure this mortification, as well as the cold treatment which I experienced from that time from my host. He changed all at once from one extreme to the other, and looked upon me only as a stranger who incommoded him, and whom he wished to get rid of.
Is it possible! you will say. What the Pompey to whom you had been so serviceable, and who in his letters professed himself so sincerely obliged,—could this very Pompey repay you with ingratitude? alas it was but too true. He assumed all at once a cool and distant air, and gave me to understand by his behaviour, that he desired my absence. This conduct was owing in a great measure to my telling him that I should not return to Rome for some time. He concluded from this, that I should not have it in my power to render him any further service, and in all probability, as we should have no continued connexion between us, he was quite indifferent as to whether I was dissatisfied with him or not. He even went so far as to ask me without ceremony when I intended to proceed on my journey. I answered him that I should set out the next day; upon which he replied with a distant air, that he was sorry to part with me so soon, though he never made the slightest motion to press me to stay any longer. I was not a little vexed to think of having taken so much pains to oblige a man who felt so little gratitude, that far from offering me any assistance to make me some amends for what he had caused me to lose, he was so unfeeling as to count the minutes with impatience until I was out of his house. So that the first thing I did the next morning was to take leave of Signor Pompey, and I took care by my manner towards him, to let him see the opinion I entertained of his conduct.