d in, if the occasion offers? For whatever a man's habit, he
will not wear it long if it cover an empty belly; and he that respects
his calling must find food enough to continue in it. But as for me, sir,
I have put a hand to every trade, from composing scenarios for the ducal
company of Pianura, to writing satirical sonnets for noblemen that
desire to pass for wits. I've a pretty taste, too, in compiling
almanacks, and when nothing else served I have played the public
scrivener at the street corner; nay, sir, necessity has even driven me
to hold the candle in one or two transactions I would not more actively
have mixed in; and it was to efface the remembrance of one of these--for
my conscience is still over-nice for my condition--that I set out on
this laborious pilgrimage."

Much of this was unintelligible to Odo; but he was moved by any mention
of Pianura, and in the abate's first pause he risked the question--"Do
you know the hump-backed boy Brutus?"

His companion stared and pursed his soft lips.

"Brutus?" says he. "Brutus? Is he about the Duke's person?"

"He lives in the palace," said Odo doubtfully.

The fat ecclesiastic clapped a hand to his thigh.

"Can it be your excellency has in mind the foundling boy Carlo Gamba?
Does the jackanapes call himself Brutus now? He was always full of his
classical allusions! Why, sir, I think I know him very well; he is even
rumoured to be a brother of Don Lelio Trescorre's, and I believe the
Duke has lately given him to the Marquess of Cerveno, for I saw him not
long since in the Marquess's livery at Pontesordo."

"Pontesordo?" cried Odo. "It was there I lived."

"Did you indeed, cavaliere? But I think you will have been at the Duke's
manor of that name; and it was the hunting-lodge on the edge of the
chase that I had in mind. The Marquess uses it, I believe, as a kind of
casino; though not without risk of a distemper. Indeed, there is much
wonder at his frequenting it, and 'tis said he does so against the
Duke's wishes."

The name of Pontesordo had set Odo's memories humming like a hive of
bees, and without heeding his companion's allusions he asked--"And did
you see the Momola?"

The other looked his perplexity.

"She's an Innocent too," Odo hastened to explain. "She is Filomena's
servant at the farm."

The abate at this, standing still in the road, screwed up his eyelids
and protruded a relishing lip. "Eh, eh," said he, "the girl from the
farm, you say?" And