r and the chain were not to my taste. I, and
two others, escaped; they took to the road, and have, no doubt, been
long since broken on the wheel. I, soft soul, would not commit another
crime to gain my bread, for Clara was still at my heart with her soft
eyes; so, limiting my rogueries to the theft of a beggar's rags, which I
compensated him by leaving my galley attire instead, I begged my way
to the town where I left Clara. It was a clear winter's day when I
approached the outskirts of the town. I had no fear of detection, for my
beard and hair were as good as a mask. Oh, Mother of Mercy! there came
across my way a funeral procession! There, now, you know it. I can tell
you no more. She had died, perhaps of love, more likely of shame. Do you
know how I spent that night? I will tell you; I stole a pickaxe from a
mason's shed, and, all alone and unseen, under the frosty heavens I dug
the fresh mould from the grave; I lifted the coffin; I wrenched the lid,
I saw her again--again. Decay had not touched her. She was always pale
in her life! I could have sworn she lived! It was a blessed thing to see
her once more,--and all alone too! But then at dawn, to give her back
to the earth,--to close the lid, to throw down the mould, to hear the
pebbles rattle on the coffin,--that was dreadful! Signor, I never knew
before, and I don't wish to think now, how valuable a thing human life
is. At sunrise I was again a wanderer; but now that Clara was gone my
scruples vanished, and again I was at war with my betters. I contrived,
at last, at O--, to get taken on board a vessel bound to Leghorn,
working out my passage. From Leghorn I went to Rome, and stationed
myself at the door of the cardinal's palace. Out he came,--his gilded
coach at the gate. "'Ho, father,' said I, 'don't you know me?'

"'Who are you?'

"'Your son,' said I, in a whisper.

"The cardinal drew back, looked at me earnestly, and mused a moment.
'All men are my sons,' quoth he then, very mildly; 'there is gold for
thee. To him who begs once, alms are due; to him who begs twice, jails
are open. Take the hint and molest me no more. Heaven bless thee!' With
that he got into his coach and drove off to the Vatican. His purse,
which he had left behind, was well supplied. I was grateful and
contented, and took my way to Terracina. I had not long passed the
marshes, when I saw two horsemen approach at a canter.

"'You look poor, friend,' said one of them, halting; 'yet you are