‘True, something I see wherefore I call thee blessed,’ replied the friar; ‘but I cannot tell it thee now. To-morrow, perhaps, I may find it easier. Impossible now, friend. Now, pray thee, show us our rooms.’
It needed not to add any injunctions concerning the rooms; of course, the cleanest and the best were appointed by Francesco spontaneously for such honoured guests.
‘How do you think we are getting on?’ said the friar to the lay brother when they were alone.
‘Excellently well so far,’ replied the other; ‘things have passed my lips this night which never have they tasted before, nor ever may again. But the reckoning, the reckoning; that is what puzzles me: when it comes to paying the bill, what’ll you do then?’
‘Leave it all to me,’ returned the friar; ‘I’m quite satisfied with the man we have to deal with. It will all come right, never fear.’
The next morning the two brothers were astir betimes, but Francesco was on the look-out to serve them.
‘Excellenza! you will not leave without breakfast, Excellenza!’
‘Yes, Francesco; poor friars must not mind going without breakfast.’
‘Never, from my house, Excellenza!’ responded Francesco. ‘I have the table ready with a bottle of wine freshly drawn from the cellar, eggs that were born[8] since daylight, only waiting your appearance to be boiled, rolls this moment drawn from the oven, and my wife is at the stove preparing a fried dish[9] fit for a king.’
‘Too much, too much, Francesco! You spoil us; we are not used to such things,’ said the lay brother as they sat down; but Francesco had flown into the kitchen, and returned with the dish.