"Diable!" exclaimed Monsieur d'Antin; "I had quite forgotten about him."
"What? You know him?"
"No, my dear friend, no. But I happened to see him two or three evenings ago in Rome, and in whose company do you suppose he was? You will never guess. Well, he was dining at a restaurant with Professor Rossano and his son and daughter."
The Abbé Roux gave an exclamation of surprise.
"Lelli! Dining with the Rossanos? Are you sure that it was he?"
"Absolutely sure. I was dining with Peretti—you know whom I mean?—and Peretti knew Monsignor Lelli perfectly well. He left the restaurant very soon after he saw us."
"Lelli!" repeated the Abbé Roux, with a scowl. "Yes, he is the priest at Montefiano. Peretti will have told you his story. He fell into disgrace at the Vatican—in fact, he embezzled money, and rather than have a public scandal, he was sent here to get him out of the way. What was he doing with the Rossanos?"
"Eating his dinner," replied Monsieur d'Antin, tranquilly; "at least, if you call such a thing a dinner. Ciel! what filth one eats in a Roman restaurant, even in the best of them. Oh, la, la! Yes, your parroco was dining with the Rossano family. It would appear that he is an intimate friend."
"No doubt," observed the abbé, with a sneer. "Lelli was always hand and glove with all the canaille in Rome of the literary and scientific world. He is simply a free-thinker—nothing more nor less. It does not at all surprise me that he should be a friend of Professor Rossano."
"But it is a little unfortunate that a friend of the Rossanos should be curé at Montefiano, is it not?" asked Monsieur d'Antin.