alk and chat about various things.

Preciozi was beginning to believe that his friend was a man with a
future. Some explanations that Caesar gave him about the mechanism of
the stock-exchange convinced the abbe that he was in the presence of a
great financier.

Preciozi talked to all his friends and acquaintances about Cardinal
Fort's nephew, picturing him as an extraordinary man; some took these
praises as a joke; others thought that it was really very possible that
the Spaniard had great talent; only one abbe, who was a teacher in a
college, felt a desire to meet the Cardinal's nephew, and Preciozi
introduced him to Caesar.

This abbe was named Cittadella, and he was fat, rosy, and blond; he
looked more like a singer than a priest.

Caesar invited the two abbes to dine at a restaurant and requested
Preciozi to do the ordering.

"So you are a nephew of Cardinal Fort's?" asked Cittadella. "Yes."

"His own nephew?"

"His own nephew; son of his sister."

"And he hasn't done anything for you?"

"Nothing."

"It's a pity. He is a man of great influence, of great talent."

"Influence, I believe; talent, I doubt," said Caesar.

"Oh, no, no! He is an intelligent man."

"But I have heard that his _Theological Commentaries_ is absolutely
absurd."

"No, no."

"A crude, banal book, full of stupidities...."

"_Macche_!" exclaimed the indignant Preciozi, neglecting the culinary
conflict he was engaged in.

"All right. It makes no difference," replied Caesar, smiling. "Whether
he is a famous man, as you two say, or a blockhead, as I think, the fact
remains that my uncle doesn't wish to have anything to do with me."

"You must have done something to him," said Cittadella.

"No; the only thing is that when I was small they told me the Cardinal
wished me to be a priest, and I answered that I didn't care to be."

"And why so?"

"It seems to me a poor job. It's evident that one doesn't make much at
it."

Cittadella sighed.

"Yes, and what's more," Preciozi put in, "this gentleman says to anybody
who cares to listen, that religion is a farce, that Catholicism is like
a dish of Jewish meat with Roman sauce. Is it possible that a Cardinal
should bother about a nephew that talks like that?"

The Abbe Cittadella looked very serious and remarked that it is
necessary to believe, or at least to seem to believe, in the truths of
religion.

"Is the Cardinal supposed to have money?" asked Caesar.

"Yes, I should sa